10. Jonathan
10
JONATHAN
B lood.
Carrying to my sensitive nose on the breeze is lots and lots of blood. Not Marie’s, thankfully, but it points to something bad happening nearby.
I’m about to charge straight into Silver Creek territory, not caring one bit about what kind of trouble I’ll find myself in for trespassing when my wolf’s focus switches from the blood bath happening deep in Graham’s territory to the bank at the side of the road.
Coughing and wheezing, an exhausted and soaked she-wolf drags herself up the steep incline, head hanging low like she’s too tired to even hold it up fully.
Marie.
My wolf races toward her, brushing up along her side to give her warmth and support as she struggles to the top of the hill before flopping down on the soft grass, panting hard.
I shift back to human form, once again cursing the fact that we can’t mind-link and run my hands over her heaving chest and through her fur, looking for wounds or injuries.
But there’s nothing. No blood, no sign of any cuts or broken bones. She’s just wet and bedraggled, her wet fur clinging to her body, making her look smaller and thinner than she really is.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
My brother is already racing back to get our car while my beta stands guard, watching the bridge for any sign of Silver Creek wolves, or Graham Reynolds himself, coming to retrieve her.
Marie’s wolf opens her eyes slowly and nuzzles into my hand, letting me know she’s okay, but I don’t feel any better, and the scent of blood on the wind is ensuring my senses remain on high alert.
“Where’s Graham?” I ask, swapping between comforting my tired, shivering mate and watching the trees nearby for an attack. The rumble of my brother’s car, and his approaching footsteps makes me relax, just a little, but enough to accept a blanket and wrap it around my trembling mate.
Once she’s covered by the fleecy fabric, she shifts, her paws morphing into hands that grip the blanket high to her chest as she clumsily sits upright and wraps the material around her.
“He won’t leave his territory. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”
Steely gaze trained on someone or something I can’t see in the distance, she doesn’t blink as she climbs to her feet. That look will forever be burned into my brain as a reminder not to piss off my mate.
I can smell Graham Reynolds out there, watching us from the ancient trees, but not prepared to come to the border and challenge me face to face. I’m conflicted about what to do next, not wanting to add to what’s already clearly been a traumatic experience.
“Did he do this? Did he hurt you?”
My voice sounds garbled with my teeth already partially descended, ready for the battle that her admission will start.
I’m going to kill him with my bare hands, and I’m going to take my time.
The council can do or say what they want. Nothing they can do to me matters as much as making that man pay for whatever he’s done that has her so rattled.
And why the fuck is she crawling from the river like a drowned rat?
“He didn’t do anything. We had a disagreement, and I stormed off, but tripped and fell into the water.”
Lie.
Her lips are pressed into a thin, stubborn line, like it’s paining her to speak the untruth to me. Big doe eyes plead with me not to push the matter and contradict her now. Her focus once again drifts to the far side of the bridge, where I can sense two shifters watching us from the shadows of the old trees.
She’s making sure Graham hears her words, that she’s not telling on him or giving up any information about what happened here. Cleverly, she avoids giving him a reason to come for us.
“I want to go home, Jonathan. Will you bring me home, please?”
Home. Her tiny hand finds mine, and she tangles our fingers together, that small touch calming my ragged nerves immediately. “I’ll never see or speak to Graham Reynolds again. I’m all yours. Please.”
My beta growls a warning, picking up some movement in the forest beyond. A jumble of faint scents reach me on the breeze.
“Alpha. We’re about to be outnumbered. What’s the plan here?”
A snapping twig, the rustle of leaves.
Whoever’s out there is watching and waiting for their backup to arrive.
I growl, frustrated at not being able to just charge into the trees and take out my anger on whoever’s unfortunate enough to cross my path.
Both of these men have mates to go home to, and pups to raise. Watching me challenge another alpha without the rest of the pack here to step in if needed would be dangerous. That’s not a position I want to put them in, not when I have Marie back in my arms already.
My mate’s fingers wrap around my wrist as she peers up at me, silently begging me to go. Whatever’s happened here already, she’s rattled, and someone got hurt. I won’t risk putting her through another ordeal because my desire for revenge clouds my judgement.
I’m alpha for a reason. And defending my pack, even if that means retreating and regrouping, is always number one.
“Please, Jonathan.”
The tremble in Marie’s voice is my undoing.
As much as it galls me not to finish this today, before Graham has the time to gather his wolves and launch an ambush, it’s time to get out of here.
“Of course.”
Scooping her up into my arms, ensuring the blanket is wrapped snugly around her freezing body, I carry her to the still running car as quickly as I can.
“Thank you,” she whispers, looping her arms around my neck and sagging against me in relief as I jog down the road, holding her possessively to me as I run.
Never taking his eyes off the trees, my beta walks backward toward the vehicle before sliding into the passenger seat once we’re safely positioned in the back seat.
“Go,” I order, bracing myself as the car peels away in a cloud of dust, tires screeching.
Marie’s eyes fall closed, and she breathes a sigh of relief, relaxed now that she’s travelling away from Silver Creek and further into Grey Ridge territory.
Twisting around, I stare at the bridge, watching with fury as Graham steps out of the darkness and stands right on the border, arms folded over his chest.
He watches us, never taking his eyes off us until we turn the corner and cut him off from view.
This isn’t over.
Marie finally stops shaking, the bitter taste of fear disappearing from her scent, while I flood my pack’s mind-link with instructions.
More patrols. Nobody wanders near the river or the bridge. Anyone suspicious should be reported back to a senior enforcer.
At the same time, my own wolves send me messages. Graham has demanded five of his wolves who work in our hotel return home immediately, as if I would ever punish them for his actions.
Hopefully this won’t escalate any further, and I’ll be able to speak to his father about what happened today without starting a war between the packs, but one thing I know for certain is he’ll never get within a hundred yards of my mate ever again.