Chapter 5
VESSA
Relief settles in my chest as I peer through the window. Gods be merciful, at least it’s not a bear.
The wolf gazes up at me several paces from the stairs.
My mouth falls open when I take in the majesty of him.
This beast is the largest lycan I’ve ever seen, with rows of daggers for teeth.
Upright ears draw back as he dips his head and lowers himself to the ground, signaling that he intends no harm.
Like a gunshot, a raven squawks and swoops onto the windowsill I peer over. The bird from this morning—did she follow me here as well?
A gust ruffles its inky feathers, ushering a new charge in the air. One look at the menacing wolf and it can’t be refuted. The current . . . it’s electric. Inexorable. Perhaps a nudge of fate. My heart constricts ever so slightly, with a pulse of yearning.
Mate?
I blow into my trembling hands and rise to meet him. I remain behind the entryway for a moment, wondering if the wolf will revert to his human form. Instead, it stays frozen, watching as I make my slow descent.
“Please don’t maul me,” I whisper under my breath.
Equally captivating as he is terrifying, the beast’s color is deep and dark as a winter’s night.
Shiny as feathers of the messenger of death.
Once we are face to face, I marvel at his cobalt eyes, so intense it’s hard for me to believe they are of this world.
Finally, I reach out to touch him, and he closes his lids for a moment, leaning into me as I gently stroke below his ear.
The coarse feel of his coat eases the tension in my fingers, the fear pumping in my chest.
I remember then that beneath this magnificent pelt, there is a man.
Bright eyes widen with mutual curiosity.
With recognition. For that, there can only be one explanation.
I draw my next breath and my world tips off its axis.
This—him—something about the unfolding moment evokes a sense that I am not the first to witness it.
Almost as if it were scripted by the gods themselves.
At the sound of a distant rumble, the wolf jerks its head back.
Lifting to his full height, he stalks away from the cabin, towards the tree line that the sun is beginning to set over.
After three and a half years, I find myself once again faced with the decision of whether to blindly trust a stranger.
And yet, I can’t ignore the protests of my irrational heart, how it longs to know who the Luna goddess has deemed me worthy of. If he is just as striking in the flesh.
Abandoning the cabin, I shudder as I come alongside the giant shifter. I barely reach its shoulder. The beast looms over me, spanning eight feet long—not including its thick tail. Such a stature must have propelled him high up the ranks in his pack, wherever he’s come from.
The beast shepherds me in silence. All around us, snow-dusted pines stand like pillars, their shadows shrinking as the sun creeps downward. Soon, it will become difficult to ignore my pounding head and exhausted legs. But I press on.
I lose myself in a riptide of intrusive thoughts until a wet nose nudges my hand.
We have stopped at an opening of trees that reveals a frozen, winding creek.
I look to the wolf who is jerking its snout diagonally in the direction of a nearby tree, herding me there.
Its trunk is bent at an unnatural angle.
Narrowing my eyes, I make out what appears to be a leather jacket carefully draped over a grey backpack.
I squat down below the canopy to have a closer look.
Rolled inside of the jacket is a map. On the upper right corner, there are three smudged letters. V.A.S.
The wolf nudges the backpack with its nose and opens its jaws, taking the bag into its mouth.
Then he trots away, leaving me with his other belongings.
I decide to wander downwards along the creek to find somewhere to wait, settling on an old stump that faces away from the creek.
Lowering onto it, I take a deep breath, watching my exhale release as a thick puff of vapor.
The cold nips voraciously at my scraped palms, ravaging the bare skin.
I don't hesitate to slip the leather jacket over my shoulders.
A luxurious mixture of amber and mahogany clings to the material.
While it lacks a hood, the interior is warm enough.
And shockingly engulfing. At least ten inches of sleeve extend past my hands, which I roll up and bunch into fists to preserve my fingers.
Something rustles up ahead, thumping. A breeze caresses my cheeks, running off with a hint of my scent. Darting back into the forest, I locate the first thick trunk that crosses my path and duck behind it, slamming a hand over my mouth. A dreadful stillness settles over the clearing.
As I draw my next ragged breath, movement in my periphery has me half-screaming into my hand. A towering man holds a finger to his lips, the other arm extended towards me, offering up my white shawl. Don’t scream.
I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Time has stopped.
“I believe this is yours,” he mutters. The deep timbre of his voice is mostly gravel, though his vowels are smooth and precise. Like divots of a steel knife.
My lungs completely deflate. While I’m not sure what I was expecting from the person hiding under the black wolf’s skin, by all means, it wasn’t this.
The male takes a heedful step forward. “Are you hurt?”
I can’t help but gawk at his rugged appearance.
Tan skin is a canvas for a wavy golden-brown mane, wide hands, and a straight nose balanced by a moderately square chin.
Every inch of him exudes dominance. The stern expression, broad shoulders, and staggering height prove he’s a lycan without question.
“Miss?”
Blinking through a spell of dizziness, my mouth finally falls open. “Nothing I can’t hand—”
Footsteps shuffle behind us. The male whirls like a blade, pulling a gun from his waistband. A boy, just shy of twenty, stumbles awkwardly, holding up his hands. Naked, his eyes bulge wide, but not at the gun. Something in my protector’s eyes renders him paralyzed.
“Move along, pup,” he warns in a register so dark it raises the hair on my arms.
The kid doesn’t waste another moment before shifting back into his wolf form, running for the hills. It’s then that I realize perhaps I should do the same.
When the man turns, cobalt eyes fasten on me, pulsating with what can only be tendrils of lightning.
He assesses my petite frame, shivering lips, and chest that rapidly rises and falls under his leather coat.
My heart hiccups when he takes another step towards me, minimizing the gap between us.
Seeing him even closer now, I’m stunned; never did I imagine I would be paired with someone this irrationally good-looking.
Reaching behind my sore neck, I wonder if he has something similar on his mind. That is, until I pull two crinkled leaves out of my tangled hair. Right. Definitely not.
He tucks the gun away for safekeeping and hums to himself, spotting something on the ground.
Bending towards the snow, he retrieves the cloth for me once again, brushing off the pine needles.
Nostrils flare as I drape it over my hair, twist, and tuck the rest into the jacket.
With two blinks, his irises have already settled back to their deep, gleaming blue.
“Better?”
Nodding, the towering male clears his throat. "I'm Axe Skornokovy. Alpha of Bleeding Sun." The brawny name pulses through me. Axe. There’s a familiarness I can’t quite place, probably floating around somewhere in the back of my scrambled brain.
He extends his hand and I push back his sleeve to accept, almost gasping from the warmth of his rough skin. A tingling current seeps into me, drawing me closer to him.
"My name is Vespera." I stutter. “Vessa. I-I prefer Vessa.”
As quickly as it was offered, he rescinds his touch.
Axe tugs me against him, ushering me in the direction of my previous post. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for a human?
You could have easily gotten yourself killed, if not for intruding on the festivities, then for simply knowing about our existence in the first place. "
He scans the creek’s surroundings. The lycan then takes the map and slings the other strap of his pack over his shoulder. "Let’s get moving.”
With that, he strides away, leaving me blindsided.
From what I know about lycan mating traditions, males bury their teeth in their mate’s neck the minute they get them alone. Before anyone else can intrude or object. Does he not intend to claim me?
Clutching the leather, I follow close enough to be a shadow. For a moment there, I genuinely wanted him to. Gods, is that insane? Judging from their size, those hands could snap my neck like a twig. Why would I want those teeth anywhere near me?
After fifteen minutes of shivering, I call out for him to stop. I need to catch my breath. By now, the frigid wetness of the snowy ground has seeped inside my shoes. My toes are too numb to take another step.
The moment I begin to sway, Axe is there. Crimson smears my cheeks as he tucks his arm under my legs and hoists me up to his chest. My arms instinctively wind around his thick neck. A soft groan escapes me as I revel in the blissful sensation.
"Hang in there, Vespera."
“It’s Vessa," I whisper into his collarbone, the perfect little nook to warm my face.
He soldiers on, bearing the weight of me. As comfortable as I am in his arms, I force myself to remain awake. For some reason, my thoughts are still hung up on the way my nerve endings panicked from the sparks of his hand clasping mine.
Shouldn’t he have felt something too?
When we finally reach the row of small pavilions, Axe sets me down on a nearby bench. He lets his hand rest on my waist, steadying me, until I lift my head. Meeting his assessing stare, my temperature spikes.
His voice drops to a whisper as he releases me. "I'm going to sign you out and get your things. Don't go anywhere, and most importantly, don't speak to anyone, alright?"
I watch his long figure walk away and join a queue of about eight other males holding hands with their newfound partners. One couple in particular catches my eye as I watch the man lean over and nuzzle into his female's bloody neck.
My heart jolts once more. Why didn’t this alleged Alpha mark me back by the creek? Why risk leaving me here all alone?
Another mated pair strolls past me, eyes widening at the sight of Axe, who sticks out as the tallest in line.
“Is that the Commander?”
“I dunno, but it sure looks like him.”
After what feels like hours, Axe finally wheels up behind me with my suitcase and duffel bag. I rise from the bench.
A flash of concern crosses his face, but before he can open his mouth, I blurt, "Am I actually your mate or are you trying to stage an abduction here?"
He places his hand at the small of my back. "Come. The car is this way."
I scowl at his curt deflection and step out of his reach. "You need to tell me exactly what your intentions are with me before I take another step."
At that, his jaw flinches. More faces are staring in our direction now.
"Tell me where you are taking me or I will scream," I threaten under my breath.
He latches onto the flaps of his leather jacket, tugging me close. Towering over me. My heart flutters as he dips his head down, mouth hovering against my ear. “That wouldn’t be wise. I don't take kindly to those who threaten me. Male or female, tiny as you may be.”
The low warning carries a hostile voltage. Yet I remain determined. "Where. Are. You. Taking. Me?"
At my seething expression, he sighs. “We’re going to Tukkon. That is my home.”
“Where is this town you call home, exactly?”
“What, do you want the exact coordinates?”
“I don’t know, are you always this avoidant?”
“West,” he huffs. “Near the top of Aurora’s Belt.”
Aurora’s Belt?
Oh, I'm going to kill Maurleen for talking me into this.