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“Your Alpha did this to you?” I hadn’t ever heard of an Alpha who could cause non-healing wounds, but maybe he’d hired a witch or something. Although the only witch I knew of in North America lived in the middle of my packlands. Well, the only trustworthy witch. I’d heard of some in the Keys, but I was pretty sure they’d been exterminated by Northern Enforcers decades ago.
“Nah. My true mate.” Luke turned his head slightly to see my face.
I blinked, shocked again. “I didn’t know you had one.” No one knew it; that sort of gossip usually spread faster than pollen on a storm wind.
His smile widened, though it wasn’t joy-filled, as it ought to be. He had the brass ring, the prize every shifter longed for. That almost none of us found, not for many years. “Neither… did she.”
“Oooh. Tricky. Didn’t take the news well?”
“I may have… chosen my moment poorly.” He glanced down at his stomach, and I winced. I’d already felt sorry for the man. Now I wondered if he was cursed or something.
I was sure there was more to the story. Female shifters in my pack could be belligerent, even dangerous, with their training. More than a few of the males in my pack had been shown their place by their women, though they weren’t true mates. Maybe Luke’s was a great brute of a woman, with a temper to match her muscles.
At least the lack of healing made sense now. The only wound that didn’t heal on a shifter was either from silver, magical, or given by a true mate. I hadn’t smelled silver or magic. But what kind of a true mate would eviscerate her fated love?
Everything I was feeling must have showed because he let out another short laugh, which made more blood well out of his cut.
“Damn, who’d your true mate turn out to be? A mountain lion?”
“No,” Luke grumbled. “She snuck up on me like one, though. She’s fast. Sneaky.” He took a breath. “Smells like her here, so good. She’s so pretty. Well, not now, I guess. Cut all that… gorgeous red hair off. Why’d she have to… cut off her hair? I never got to… touch it…”
And then he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Oh shit.
12
Calling in a Debt
FLOR
Ifelt really, really bad for stabbing Luke in the gut. Almost bad enough to sneak into the compound after him and apologize.
I didn’t, though. He’d heal, and fast. I hadn’t actually killed him, or even done permanent damage. He was super-shifter Heir guy, right? And it’s not like he’d ever apologized to me for the lifetime of bullshit I’d lived through. I kept telling myself that, but for some reason, I wasn’t sure.
Why wasn’t I sure? Had I read something in Home Skills back in middle school about mates and wounds, or… Shake it off, Flor. This isn’t the time to be second guessing.
Just because Luke had said I was his true mate didn’t mean it was a fact. I mean, I definitely would have felt it before now.
The strange humming feeling during the hug started up again in my arms.
Snakeshit. What if I was wrong? What if I had just stabbed my true mate in the guts?
Why did I care? I was getting the hell out of this rotten pack, and even if Luke was my true mate, he hadn’t done jack to help me over the past four years while I was being hunted by almost all the other unmated males. I’d been beaten by Van for the smallest infractions, harassed and attacked by Trevor and his group, and ignored by everyone else. I’d gone without a full night’s sleep for four years. Practically starved, some weeks. If it hadn’t been for Del…
I held back the sob that threatened to tear out of me. It wasn’t the time to be weak. I had to find Glen and force him to make good on his promise. Then I had to get the hell out of this pack, this state, and never look back.
The dry pine needles on the forest floor crunched slightly under my sore feet as I ran, watching for tracks, although night had truly fallen and even though the moon was full, in the shadows I couldn’t see for shit.
If I’d had a shifter’s nose, I wouldn’t have needed to watch so carefully; I’d be able to smell anyone upwind. I froze, wondering if anyone from my pack was downwind. The pervert—Glen, I reminded myself—had said they’d accused me of the murder. They’d be hunting me.
Crap. I smelled like me now. For the first time all day, I regretted my creek bath. Too dark to go hunting for more shit to rub over myself.
I gathered up the edges of my dress and picked up my pace, staying as low as I could when I came over the series of small rises that made up the landscape here. If I could make it past the next bigger hill, I’d be able to see farther. Maybe I’d spot the… Glen.
Like I’d conjured him, blond hair appeared, gleaming on the horizon in the moonlight. I raised my voice slightly. “Glenda!”
He was standing in the middle of a clearing next to the redheaded guy I’d fought, Finnick. He was still wearing his running shorts, so I figured they hadn’t gone back into the compound.
