Chapter 12
NO QUESTIONS, NO PROTESTS
LUKE
Lawson races through the trees, weaving left and right as the trunks turn into a blur. We’re running hard and fast, ignoring the burning in our legs as our stride stretches, helping us bound over rocks and other obstacles that dare to cross our path.
We’ve been out here for at least two days.
It’s been glorious.
It’s been a relief.
It’s been a goddamn curse and I hate it.
Lawson’s hunted and sunk into the wilds, relishing the cold, earthy air and the bitter harshness of the mountain forest. My wolf has relished the stark, severe wilderness and we needed time away from our pack. We needed time away from Nia.
She’s a distraction I can’t afford and one I’m not allowed to be without. Our attraction is undeniable and the glimpse of her wolf was a dream I’m clinging to, refusing to accept it wasn’t real. The girl is impossible to be without but accepting her is out of the question.
I won’t.
I can’t.
I don’t even know where to start.
“Luke.”
Cole is yelling at me again, trying to reach me through the pack bond. He’s been hassling me for hours and I’m growing tired of his persistence. I’ve been blocking out most of his noise but every so often he breaks through, and now he’s insistent.
Lawson growls, irritated he’s forced to stop running because I need to hear our Beta. He’s concerned enough to forcibly break my privacy, and that means we’ve got a big problem.
“She’s sick, Luke. You’ve got to return.”
My wolf snarls and paces through the woods, growling aggressively at what sounds like an order.
“The girl will cope without me.”
I try to sever the bond and Cole screams in panic.
“She won’t, Luke. She’s dying.”
We stop dead and my heart stills, somehow brought to a standstill by two words and three syllables that destroy any semblance of peace I’ve found. Nia can’t die. It would be inconvenient. It would be a pain in my ass. It would be a problem I’d never solve.
It would be the death of me.
Fucking hell, the girl’s been nothing but trouble since I found out about her and now she’s got the goddamn nerve to try to die on me. If she’s trying to die on me.
“WHAT. THE. FUCK?”
My voice is so damn loud it’ll shatter through all the barriers my pack has put in place.
Everyone just heard me lose my shit over a girl I don’t care about.
The whole damn pack is paying attention, alert to their Alpha’s fury.
They’re readying themselves for an explosion, and I sense their anxiety.
I know their fears and they’re afraid that the danger they’re about to face doesn’t come from outside.
My pack knows the threat they’re facing is unstoppable, and they know the threat is me.
“Get back, Luke. She’ll die otherwise.”
Lawson throws his head back and howls, the sound echoing through the forest and filling the air around me.
The sound is low and its deep base resonates through the woods and the ground beneath me, spreading through my territory.
It’s a call to my pack, a cry of pain and longing.
It’s a call to someone else too, and my wolf and I pray she hears us.
I hate the girl, but I hate myself for abandoning her.
I can’t accept that she’s my mate but I can’t accept her dying either. The thought she won’t see more sunrises or sunsets or watch the moon as it arches over the night is unthinkable. It’s unimaginable. It’s an outrage and an insult I won’t tolerate or allow to continue.
Lawson turns and runs faster than I’ve ever known him run before. We’re usually fast but we’re moving so fast that the shapes and shadows blur and the scenery smears into a haze. My wolf’s lungs burn and his muscles ache, and he harnesses the pain, channeling it and using it to drive him forward.
We’re pushing hard. Maybe too hard. We know this land and we have a while left to run, even at this speed. Lawson needs to slow or else we’ll tire and be forced to slow down. Every second counts and we can’t afford to lose any, especially not if we push too hard and become exhausted.
“We’re not stopping, Luke.”
“We need to slow the fuck down, Lawson.”
My wolf digs deeper and bounds through the forest. “We’re not slowing down, Luke. She needs us. Now. Not in a day, not in an hour. She needs us now and we shouldn’t have left her.”
I bite my tongue, refusing to remind him that I wasn’t the one who ran away.
It wasn’t me who deserted the girl and we’ve been out here in the woods, cooling his temper.
My needs have taken a backseat to my wolf’s and he’s been running wild, patrolling our territory as he’s found his nature again.
Lawson enjoyed the wildness and the balance he found out here, but it’s cost us and now we’re paying the price.
“You too, Luke.” My wolf pants and I growl. “This is as much your fault as it is mine.”
“She might not be that sick.” I pause and Lawson doesn’t answer. “It might not be our fault.” The silence is deafening and my chest clenches with pain. “It isn’t my fault, Lawson.” The beats of my wolf’s paws sound and he remains quiet. “She’s going to be okay, Lawson. She’s got to be okay.”
My wolf growls and it’s a sound of unbridled determination. Lawson isn’t wasting time talking to me. He isn’t wasting energy speaking. He’s using every fucking moment and every ounce of everything he’s got to get us home as fast as he damn well can.
And he’s not going to stop.
We’re going to make it. Lawson’s going to make damn sure we make it. He’ll wring his soul out and bleed himself dry if that’s what it takes, and I’ve never felt more damn proud of my wolf.
Nia’s in trouble and she needs us, and it doesn’t matter if I’ve accepted her as my mate.
It doesn’t even matter if she is my mate or not.
The girl whose life I took responsibility for isn’t going to die on my watch.
She’s going to make it through the night and every other night, no matter what it takes.
Even if I have to do the unthinkable and treat her like my equal.
We can’t let her die. I can’t carry that on my conscience for the rest of my days. My pack wouldn’t forgive me. The Elders and the Moon Goddess wouldn’t forgive me. Dammit, I wouldn’t forgive myself.
The pangs of guilt don’t ease and I wonder how Nia got this sick.
She’s young, she’s an Alpha’s daughter. She’s supposed to be strong and she’s supposed to give her pack pups.
This shouldn’t happen and even if she went on hunger strike, she shouldn’t have brought herself this close to death in just a few days.
She must have hurt herself.
Fuck.
Cole can’t have been paying attention and if she’s smart it would only take a few seconds.
She must have found a way to hurt herself badly and in her weakened condition it would make her recovery hard.
She wouldn’t heal in the way she’s supposed to.
Her wounds wouldn’t repair and her organs wouldn’t mend.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“We’ll make it, Luke.”
We’ve got to make it. Cole’s called me because he thinks I need to be there. He thinks she’s my mate and he thinks my presence should help her heal. My Beta’s acting because he has no other choice and he’s begging me to heed him.
Lawson keeps going and he’s moving like a machine.
It doesn’t matter what the terrain is like underneath us or how far we have left to run.
He bounds over banks and rivers, clambers over ridges and leaps over ditches.
Nothing gets in his way and we cover the ground quickly, relieved when home comes into view.
And he finds it in himself to sprint harder, tearing past the pack houses as we charge through the streets. He bursts through the front door and bounds up the stairs heading straight for Nia’s bedroom, only stopping when he’s outside her door.
We’re panting and sweaty, covered in wet fur and mud. We’re a complete fucking mess and we’re tired but we’re here, and he nods as he slips into the shadows and I take control.
His bones break and muscles tear apart as we morph from one form to another.
I’m tired but push through the transformation, my wolf disappearing and replaced with the man Nia’s used to seeing.
Albeit with some clothes on, but as a werewolf, she should be used to nudity.
It’s a consequence of transformation and she’ll be getting used to seeing me like this anyway.
If she makes it.
I close my eyes and shake my head, refusing to accept the possibility that she won’t.
I step into her room and Cole’s there, standing watch as Nia tosses in the bed. She’s asleep and she’s exhausted. Her little body looks even frailer than before and her hair catches my attention as her body lies strewn on the bed and bathes in the moonlight.
The bed is disordered, chaotic and a complete mess.
It’s a contrast to the ordered pile of books on the bedside table and for a moment I allow myself to believe Nia found some comfort in them.
That the story of a man sane enough to hate the violence of fighting and the absurdity of being forced to fight a battle you’d really rather not.
And in an instant, I forgive her for all of it.
Cole was right, Nia was just a child and wouldn’t have understood that my father was claiming his mate.
She’d have been frightened and threatened and she’d have panicked, and I bet if my father had shown a little more understanding she wouldn’t have lost control.
She doesn’t look injured.
There are no bandages, and no cut marks anywhere.
There aren’t any bruises and she’s only receiving fluid through the drip line.
But Nia doesn’t look well. She looks fucking awful.
She’s gaunt and pale, somehow both green and grey.
Her silky skin is clammy and oily, her hair matted as if she’s been exercising for hours.