Chapter 8 - Ryder
Sinking back against the counter in his kitchen, Ryder tipped his head back, allowing it to fall back to bang heavily against the cupboard above. A sharp jolt of pain shot up his skull, but compared to the headache pounding from within, it was practically a relief. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, squeezing them closed tightly and inhaling and exhaling deeply in an attempt to calm the tension simmering inside him. This was a colossal screw-up—an absolute disaster on more levels than he had the energy to calculate right now.
On the counter next to him, the coffee maker finally chimed as the carafe reached its maximum capacity. The strong aroma helped drown out some of the lingering scent of lavender and honeydew that clung stubbornly to every inch of the apartment, which also seemed to carry hints of her faint laughter and breathless whispers from the previous evening. Sometimes, he hated his wolf side and how it connected smells and memories. Right now, he would have liked nothing more than to simply switch off his nose and pretend the whole disaster never happened.
It was too late for that. Unfortunately, he told himself regretfully, pushing away from the counter and grabbing his cup of coffee. In time, the image of Elena's dazzling smile crumpling into disappointment and heartbreak would fade. The guilt wouldn't gnaw at him forever. It was all fresh and raw right now, and this overwhelming sense that he had made a terrible mistake would eventually give way to the normal status quo. They would both move on with their lives, and everything would return to the same familiar routine. Someday, Elena would find someone who made her happy, and that would be—
Unbearable. Utterly, agonizingly unbearable. The word floated unwillingly into his mind, and he choked down a seething growl that boiled up from the pit of his stomach. No, he reminded himself that this was an inevitable part of it. He couldn't refuse to claim her as his mate and also expect her to be single and pining after him forever. This was another aspect of the choice he had knowingly made years ago. He didn't get to feel sorry for himself for it. Keeping her safe—keeping everyone he loved safe—was his first priority, and what his dumb wolf wanted wasn’t going to interfere with that. He couldn’t let himself get sidetracked.
Forcing the thoughts away, he sipped at his steaming mug and grimaced. The coffee tasted a little too bitter this morning. He drank it anyway, willing the caffeine to kick in quickly and start clearing out some of the fog in his head. At least that might dull the residual hangover symptoms still bothering him. Perhaps he'd take a trip up to HQ later to check if there had been any progress on tracking down these rogue wolves. Get in a training session, at least, if Zach still didn’t want him going on patron. He could go for a run, maybe try to do some covert investigating without the boss finding out. That would help him put all this business with Elena out of his mind for a few hours.
As he restlessly paced his living room, his wolf howled at him to go after her. Even if they couldn't be together, it wasn't right that she'd stormed away upset like that. He could have been a whole lot nicer about it. Maybe he ought to follow her, try to smooth things over, and make the situation a little less awkward between them. The conclusion would be the same, of course, but the expression on her face when she left haunted him. It left him with this sickening, gut-wrenching worry for her safety.
That's ridiculous, he reminded himself. She wasn't in any actual danger. The kid was tougher than she looked. Her feelings had been hurt, sure, but it wasn't like any actual harm would come to her. This sudden sense that she might be in trouble was completely irrational, nothing more than a product of his conscience nagging at him. Nevertheless, the unease grew stronger as he tried to focus on drinking his coffee. He kept glancing over at the window, telling himself repeatedly that he was being paranoid and overdramatic. Yet, the prickling at the base of his neck remained insistent.
Man. Guilt could really mess with a guy's mind.
An indiscernible rustle of noise sounded from the window over the stove. His body reacted on impulse, abandoning his coffee mug to investigate the source of the disturbance before his conscious brain even registered the action. Attuning his hearing to its most heightened sensitivity, he allowed his wolf's senses to take full control, his vision adjusting sharply in anticipation. Just as he reached the window, a loud crash tore through the air, immediately followed by shrill screeches and a snarling, bellowing howl. Elena's name was on his tongue even as his hands grabbed hold of the edge of the counter and used it as leverage to vault over the kitchen island and fly toward the front door.
He crashed down the stairs, shifting mid-flight to an explosion of fabric tearing and fur bursting through flesh. Every cell in his body was on fire, dread, and fury fueling his movements as adrenaline pumped wildly through every inch of him. Instincts took over, guiding his paws across the ground with preternatural speed. The world flew by in a blur of smell, sound, and color, narrowing around the trail of lavender that carried from the alleyway directly behind his building. He rushed onward, fangs bared, claws ready to tear to shreds whatever fool dared threaten Elena.
Another wolf. An unfamiliar scent. His inner predator howled a roar that would freeze prey in its tracks as he rounded the corner and lunged instinctively toward the dark beast pinning Elena beneath him, menace written in the dark scowl marring the stranger's features. In response, the attacker loosed an equally thunderous challenge, releasing his prey and leaping forward to meet Ryder head-on. Both wolves tumbled violently across the concrete. Claws dug into shoulders, muscles tensing against each other as fangs snapped and snarled at necks. Sharp canines narrowly missed ripping out throats, jaws biting and clashing with such strength they may well have been made of steel.
There was no strategy here. No clever tactics or trained technique. Merely pure, unbridled, unparalleled ferocity, fighting tooth and nail and claw. The only thought that existed in Ryder's mind was that his mate was in danger, and the primal need to destroy any threat to her, to protect her, overrode all conscious thought. It drove him forward with wild abandon, lunging, tearing, and striking without thought of retreat, fueled by a rage so profound and wild that it filled up the whole world. At that moment, he was nothing more than a beast intent on blood.
The two wolves rolled through the alleyway, neither able to gain a tactical advantage. Ryder slammed his opponent against the brick wall, earning him a brief second to breathe as stones came loose where the enemy's skull met the unforgiving building. Yet, the temporary respite lasted mere moments before the opponent was back up in a flash, charging like a feral bull and sending him hurdling back until his shoulder connected painfully with a rusting dumpster. The stench of rot and decay mingled with trash and waste. He was forced to twist his neck awkwardly to avoid getting pinned beneath the other animal, so his hindquarters banged harshly against the metal, echoing loudly around the otherwise silent space. The metallic tang of copper joined the foul odors as his back collided roughly against the container's exterior.
“Ryder!”
He heard Elena scream in horror as the other wolf reared up over him, saliva dripping from bared teeth inches from his muzzle. Around them, the wind whipped up into a violent gust, sweeping discarded debris into the air and flinging it haphazardly in all directions. On instinct, he thrashed wildly, leveraging his body weight up at the assailant to throw him off balance as his head whipped around and fastened onto the other canine's exposed arm. Savagely, he sunk his teeth down with all the force he could muster. Coppery liquid flooded his tongue, drowning out the nauseating stench of decay wafting from the overflowing bin next to him as the rogue yelped and stumbled backward, growling furiously.
All around them, the whirlwind howled louder. The dark wolf fell back several paces, still emitting menacing warning snaps as he regarded Ryder balefully with cold, amber-colored eyes. Ryder's gaze fell momentarily on the bleeding wound around the other man's arm, noting the intricate patterns of a tattoo branded into the skin. It bore a familiar marking: a circle surrounded by symbols in the language of the old alchemists. This rogue belonged to an organized group. Not just any group either, but the same one he had been tracking through the Midwest in the weeks before returning to Bellefleur.
The realization chilled his veins enough for him to momentarily regain the rational thought process he'd lost in his desperate flight through the streets. He had lost their trail. That was why he'd come back. He had been certain that he wasn't being followed. They were hundreds of miles from these rogues' last known whereabouts, yet here was one of those very same wolves on his territory, attacking his—whatever. There was only one explanation. They were here because of him.
Just as this thought occurred to him, the rogue wolf faltered and stumbled backward. The glowing irises flashed gold, and his ears fell flat back against his head, indicating fear. He was severely wounded and bleeding heavily from the gash in his left arm, clearly struggling to stay upright. One more well-placed swipe to his vulnerable flank or neck, and he would be finished. Before Ryder could act, however, the beast spun and ran with astonishing agility, vanishing almost instantly over the top of a neighboring building. Ryder's muscles tensed, preparing to give chase. He couldn't let that bastard get away. He—
“Ryder...” A feeble groan from Elena snapped him instantly from his battle rage. He glanced at the tiny witch for the first time since entering the alley, and at the sight of her wide, tearful eyes, all the energy drained from his limbs. She sat leaning weakly against the wall opposite, visibly trembling despite her valiant attempts to keep steady. Her tangled red hair was covered in dirt from where she'd been knocked to the ground, her dress torn slightly at the hemline. Yet, apart from a slight limp when she struggled to her feet, she seemed uninjured.
His anger deflated at once, replaced by an overwhelming need to make sure she was safe. His claws retracted, and his golden fur receded as she took a shaky step toward him, allowing the shift back to human form to wash over him. Blood and saliva trickled down his bare skin, coating him in a sheen of sticky residue. Ignoring the aches and pains of bruised muscle and tender bone, he closed the distance between them in one long stride, enveloping her petite frame in his embrace as she sank limply against his chest. He felt her heartbeat pounding against him, smelled the fear and stress permeating her body, and heard her ragged gasps and tiny whimpers as if they were being broadcast through a megaphone. She shivered slightly against him and buried her face into his shoulder, clutching desperately at him.
In that moment, he felt the weight of all his worst fears coming true crash down upon him like a ton of bricks. He had kept Elena at a distance for years to keep her out of harm's way, and now, all those dangers had followed him here. If he hadn't reacted when he did... No. Thinking about that wasn't productive. The image of the tattoo etched on his attacker's arm burned brightly in his mind. If they truly were after him and knew that Elena meant something to him, they wouldn't stop until she fell prey to one of their brutal attacks. Despite all his efforts, she was no longer safe here. If the rogues had become bold enough to come looking for him in town, he had to leave, and since she was involved now, he had to take her with him. He could better protect her in a more secluded location.
He cast a stern glance over his shoulder at the stunned and disheveled young woman behind him. There was no time to stop and think. Right now, he needed to get her somewhere secure. Once that was done, he could contact the others and come up with a strategy. For now, though, they simply had to get out.