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“Bullshit!” His words are full of anger, but also full of doubt.
“I wouldn’t hurt you like that. You know what it would mean to have our mate deny either one of us.” Even the thought of her choosing just one of us nearly crumples my body. There’s no way we could remain Alphas. Not with the pain and weakness it would cause our wolves. Death would be better. At least that would be honorable.
“My intent wasn’t to hurt you.” He glances at the entrance and then meets my gaze before clenching his fists. “It wasn’t about you. I wasn’t thinking like that.”
“You weren’t thinking at all!” I yell at him. Although he doesn’t flinch or react in the least, I see his eyes flash with remorse.
It takes several minutes for us to calm the fuck down; I feel my muscles relax and my skin heal as I stretch my arms and rub my jaw. “Well maybe with your dick.” I try to lighten the mood between us. After all, Luke has never been a peacemaker, and I want this behind us as soon as possible. We need to be united for the sake of our mate. He huffs at my remark, devoid of all humor. I crack my neck and give him a look over. “At least I got to beat your ass.” I lean my neck to one side until it cracks and then the other side. “I’ve always wondered who would win between the two of us.”
“Bullshit, you got your ass handed to you.” A semblance of a smile barely surfaces, but the air between us feels cleaner. I smack a hand on his solid back and start walking out of the cave.
My smile slips and I glance into the woods, sniffing the air for her scent. “We need to find her and make it up to her.” She couldn’t have gotten very far, but she’s hurt. I can feel it in my bones. Darkness washes over Luke as he nods his head. My chest pains looking at him. If only I’d kept my emotions in check, she wouldn’t be hurting. This could’ve been so good. Fuck, if I hadn’t been pissed, we could both be satisfying our sweet mate right now. I shake my head and look at the ground while taking a deep breath. “We’ll make it up to her.”
“We have to.” Luke’s solemn words ring in my ears and we head into the woods.
It’s easy to catch her scent. It’s the sweetest thing in the air. It’s also mixed with my brother’s scent, and I have to restrain myself from getting pissed all over again. I forgive him, but I’m going to fucking remember this. We should’ve taken her together. Her virginity was just as much mine as it was his. A low growl rumbles in my chest as the thought registers. Luke looks my way and has the decency to at least look a little shameful.
“I want her next…alone.” Luke’s jaw clenches and he looks like he wants to fight me. My eyes widen in surprise. He’s got to be fucking kidding me! I clench my fist, hoping I don’t have to lay into him, but I’m fucking ready if he’s going to be stubborn.
“Fine.” He barely grumbles the word through clenched teeth.
“And her ass.” I add that in there more or less to let him know her ass is mine. His eyes blaze with fury.
“Fuck off.” He spits his words and starts running, shifting in the air and landing hard on the ground, before taking off toward our mate. Selfishly I correct myself, my mate.
EMMA
Ishiver on the ground, not wanting to move, but knowing I need to get going. My body is aching with a soreness I’ve never experienced in my life. I clench my thighs and my pussy aches. I wince and moan into the ground. It’s not a good ache. Not at all. Tears prick and they’re purely from the pain. And then I remember. I remember Luke and his authority, his desire for my body. I remember his eyes as he watched me find my release. The feeling of him inside of me.
My heart clenches in my chest with desperation and a sadness I’ve never imagined I could feel. I hear his word “leftovers.” I cry harder into the ground. I’ve never been hurt so much in my life. I’m saddened by Owen and what he really thinks of me. I don’t know how I managed to feel so much for men I don’t even know. I can’t believe I’ve given so much of myself to each of them. Physically and emotionally.
I wince and remember them fighting. Fighting over me. Over their plaything. I fist my hands and pound them into the dirt in frustration, but also the need to feel something other than this sadness. Each movement reminds me of the soreness between my thighs.
I pick my body up off the ground slowly, relishing the pain. I fucking deserve this. What did I honestly expect, coming here, hunting down wolves? What a fucking idiot I was.
I’ve sacrificed my whole life in order to research their species. I have no friends. I’ve lost all contact over the years as I’ve traveled from town to town, questioning as many people as I could about the shifters. I’ve interviewed dozens, if not more, of families of the women who were taken. None of them had ever heard from their loved ones after they’d been taken. They also never understood why they were so at peace and calm while they were being taken from their homes.
That was my first clue. Werewolves don’t possess magic. They can’t calm someone with a touch like a witch can. Yet each time, the women go easily, willingly with the wolves. The only exception was the Shadow Falls’ offering. I still don’t understand what happened, and I intend to get to the bottom of it. I watched the news clip of the women. Elizabeth and Grace. I saw how the shifters calmed the women. How they looked at them. With devotion and love. There’s no doubt in my mind that there was true love between them. I studied the historical texts over and over, searching for a hint of human and werewolf relations.
I didn’t find anything. Nothing at all. But I found old scripts about beasts and their fated mates. Tales of how the beast was only tamed by his beauty. True love. I believed in a legend. A fairytale. I was a fucking idiot. Fairytales are for children. Romantic knights in shining armor are for books; there aren’t princes waiting to come rescue damsels in distress. I look down at my battered, aching body and feel as irrational as I look.
I wrap my arms around my chest and look into the woods. I haven’t a clue which way is safe or where I’ll end up. I know we were heading toward Shadow Falls, toward the Dark Valley. So I’m not fucking going in that direction. Fuck that.
I start to walk in the opposite direction, the way we came, but stop immediately. That would mean more than a full day in the woods. So I turn ninety degrees and start walking. I can’t remember on the map what it is that I’m walking toward, but at least I’m walking away from the asshole shifters.
I sigh and push my hand against my chest to relieve some of the pain. It fucking hurts to be leaving them behind me. It physically pains me. My body shudders with the cold, but also with a sense of loneliness.
What is wrong with me? My head hasn’t been right since I first saw them.
I was dead wrong.
Werewolves don’t have fated mates; they don’t hold the offerings so they can claim the ones they love. A deep frown mars my face as unwanted emotions settle in. Not paying attention, I step on a pine cone or nut or something that really fucking hurts. As I shriek and pull back, my bare back falls against a tree and I suck air through my clenched teeth to keep from screaming as I grab my foot. Fuck! My eyes stay closed shut and I start rubbing the sore spot with my thumbs. The pain slowly subsides and just as I’m about to put my foot down and continue my probably-going-to-lead-to-death journey, a large, warm hand takes my foot. My eyes pop open and I scream in terror. My hand shoots to my chest as the air freezes in my lungs and I stare at Owen’s massive chest. He’s kneeling, but his chest is at my eye level.
My heart pounds. He came for me.
I resist the urge to lean into him. The force between us threatens to make me submit to him once again. I have to remind myself what happened. And what he thinks of me. I can’t let myself fall for him. I can’t be blinded by lust like I was by Luke.
But his fingers massaging my aching foot feel so damn good. The heady haze comes over me once again. His kind silver eyes don’t meet mine. He concentrates on the small red mark on the arch of my foot. My eyes travel up his muscular arm to his broad shoulders and down his chiseled chest. His tanned skin tempts my fingertips to run along rippled muscle. I feel a strange urge to lick his neck. To nip his ear lobe.
