Page 9 of Undesired Mate

9

LEVI

“I need your word. Watch over her while I’m gone.” Because I will not have another close call like she had while I was out looking for information about her father. The lone wolf I pledged to kill for her sake.

I sense Thorn’s irritation at my insistence, but he manages to cover it without his anger flaring. “As I told you, there will be eyes on her at all times. Security teams will be working in shifts, patrolling our territory. If there are any signs of trespassers, they know what to do.”

That has to be enough. It doesn’t feel like it—not nearly enough—but I don’t have the luxury of hanging around, questioning whether or not this is the right course of action. It has to be. I cannot spend the rest of my life and hers waiting for the next time someone decides to eliminate her because of what she is, how she is.

And I did make a promise. I told Clara I would do this. My wolf won’t let me rest until I make good on that promise. It’s either head out to find and kill the rapist bastard who fathered her, or wrestle my wolf until he tears my mind apart. When I look at it that way, there isn’t much of a choice to be made.

Just like I have no choice but to set out now. The recon work I’ve done so far points toward a wolf named Bradford who has been spotted roughly ten miles outside our northernmost territory, haunting an old hunting cabin high up in the mountains. I can’t imagine what it must be like to live that way, completely cut off from my pack, left alone for the rest of my days.

Wolves do not handle solitude well, at least not in general. We’re born with the instinct to work together, to protect and support one another. I wonder what happens when that natural instinct is turned inside out. What it would do to the wolf’s mind, his identity?

At least I know as I make the shift that he won’t have any backup fighting his battles for him. It will be the two of us alone, which means I like my chances.

Everything is so much simpler and clearer when the wolf takes over. I have a goal nothing can keep me from. Heightened vision comes in handy when clouds cover the half-moon. I hear everything—the night creatures, how they scurry in their search for sustenance. The way they flee when they sense my presence. They don’t know I have much bigger prey in my sights.

It takes very little time for me to pick up a scent that should not be familiar, but is just the same. The shifter side of Clara, the unique essence that pulled me in from the beginning. It’s faint, carried on the wind along with the scents left behind by humans hiking and camping. I ignore all of that in favor of zeroing in on the wolf scent, following it, my paws slapping the ground a little faster as the scent grows stronger, more concentrated the closer I get. He’s out here somewhere, perhaps a few miles ahead. He could be hunting—the way I am. He’ll sense the presence of another shifter in the area and will be on guard, not that it will help him. He deserves to die for what he did, not to mention for all the pain inflicted on Clara.

It’s only another few minutes of climbing the increasingly steep slope leading up to the secluded cabin before I hear him in my head. “Stop. Turn back. There is nothing for you here.”

He thinks that will help him. I slow my pace, not out of fear but to keep watch. He might become desperate once he senses I’m still coming for him. I won’t be so easily deterred.

“Stop!” Louder this time, angry. “Do not disturb my peace.”

His peace? Now I’ve heard everything. The absurdity of his statement stops me, makes me wonder if that approach has ever worked before. Somehow, I doubt it.

He’ll start to panic soon, and he’ll show himself. I take my time, listening for him as I approach. He’s out here, standing upwind from where I peer into the darkness.

Calling out to him in my mind, I ask, “Are you the lone wolf known as Bradford?”

He hesitates before offering a response. “And if I am? You are trespassing.”

“A lone wolf has no territory of their own,” I remind him. “I’ve come to settle a debt.”

“I am indebted to none,” he tells me. “You have come here for no reason. Turn around now before you make a worse mistake than trespassing.”

“Again, I can’t trespass on land that doesn’t belong to you.” I start moving again, cautious but confident. Does he realize I feel his fear? I wonder how long it’s been since he was in the presence of another shifter. It hangs in the air, his solitude, like a handwritten sign. Banished. Alone.

“Your pack banished you.” I continue my approach, sniffing the air for him. He’s close, lying in wait somewhere nearby. I can make out the cabin up ahead, its outline barely visible in the profound darkness.

“What business is it of yours?” he demands. He is closer than ever, maybe stalking me. Somehow, he’s got the idea into his head that this runs both ways, that this is a dance between us. He’s going to find out very soon that’s not the case here.

“I know what you did. I know what you are responsible for.” Seconds after the thought leaves me, I feel the heat of his rage. Like all bullies, it’s never his fault.

“I was one of many! I won’t be held accountable for what everyone did.”

“That’s the problem,” I tell him, now using the intensity of his rage and his fear to guide me to him. He makes it so easy. “You won’t be held accountable, but that changes nothing. You caused years of pain, and for what? A few minutes of fun? Do you enjoy terrorizing helpless women?”

“Helpless?” The wolf’s bitter laughter rings out in my head. “A witch, helpless? She ventured onto our land and should have known the penalty.”

“Since when is that the penalty?” I ask. I see him now, up ahead, his eyes glowing between a pair of slim pines. When he blinks, I lose sight of him, but regain it when his eyes open again. “You’ve gone too long without facing the consequences, but I’m here to set things right.”

“You? You are practically a pup.” Let him insult and belittle me all he wants. I can almost taste the pungent terror behind his thoughts.

The moon emerges from behind a passing cloud, and now I see all of him. Large, heavily muscled, the moonlight gleaming off his fangs when he lifts a lip to snarl threateningly. “Who are you to come here and pass judgment?” he asks, facing me down.

“The witch you violated sent me. It is time you paid.” Lifting my lip, I snarl at him, drawing closer. Now I see the flecks of gray in his dark fur, running along his snout. A long, jagged scar runs from the top of his head down the left side of his face. The wound must have been catastrophic to leave a scar behind, since otherwise it would have healed without a hint it was ever there. Magic, maybe? Did he not learn his lesson about tangling with witches? Wasn’t it enough he was cast out of his pack?

He lifts his head, his golden eyes shining. I hear his growl in my head and in the air around me. “You can try,” he tells me, “but let me warn you. Others have tried and failed to kill me.”

Lowering my head, I growl, my hackles rising. “I’ll take my chances.”

He lunges first, throwing himself down the slope between us with his jaws snapping. My reflexes are sharp enough that I’m able to leap out of the way even with him catching me by surprise. I whirl to face him, waiting for him to come to a stop before I leap with my claws extended.

Our bodies crash together with a bone-jarring thud before we tumble further down the slope, both of us snapping at each other while sharp rocks and twigs tear at our bodies. We’re locked together, struggling to strike the first real blow.

When my teeth find his throat, I sink them in, but not far enough before we crash against the trunk of a gnarled pine. The impact knocks the wind from my lungs and leaves me dazed, but only for a moment before I scramble upright.

He’s a little slower, and I take advantage of that, leaping onto his muscular back, slashing through his fur to reach his skin. I hear his pain, the screams of rage which fill my head while he bucks violently, but nothing will stop me. This is what he deserves. For what he did to Clara, for the life he damned her to live. He has no one to blame but himself.

A sudden burst of strength takes hold of him all at once, and I’m thrown from his back, landing on mine, but I’m up again in a heartbeat. He’s suffering, whimpering, trying to escape somewhere he can lick his wounds. Like I would let that happen.

This time when he tries to throw me off, I hold on tighter, sinking my sharp teeth into his neck. For Clara. All for Clara. Blood fills my mouth and coats my throat, and I revel in it because it’s for her.

Her wide, terror-filled eyes are in front of me, making me snap my jaws closed until my teeth meet. He howls, but the sound is quickly replaced by a whimper. High-pitched and full of pain. His blood soaks into my fur, but it’s the sense of satisfaction that matters more. Triumph floods my system as he drops to the ground in a limp, bloody heap.

While he whines and convulses as his life force flows from the gaping wound I left behind, I allow the shift to come over me. I want to watch him die through my human eyes, want him to look up and see me watching, to see the disgust on my face. I want that to be the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes for good.

Right now, those eyes blink slowly while blood that looks black in the moonlight flows more weakly from his wound. “That’s for the daughter you created and damned to misery,” I whisper as he dies. “You’ve had it coming to you for a long time. Trust me on something: no matter how much pain you think you’re in now, it is nothing compared to the pain you forced her to suffer every day of her life.”

I can’t hear his wolf anymore. There’s nothing but silence as his eyes slide shut, and he releases one final, shuddering breath.

It’s over. He’s dead.

And Clara is free.