Gray
I’m going to kill them all for hurting my mate, and it will be slow. Slow and agonizing so they can feel every single pain I’ve felt and she’s felt her entire life. I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to hold back enough to get those two lifetimes of suffering in.
A low snarl rips from my throat as I slink closer, the scent of my mate’s blood filling my nostrils.
My claws gouge deep runnels in the dirt as I prowl toward the low chatter of voices.
The closer I get, the angrier I am, not only at the humans but at myself.
I had followed my mate—Maris, they had called her, and it lacked the inflection of an insult so I get the sense it’s her true name—to the festival, and for hours it had seemed like everything would be all right.
I could sense her reluctance to be with the crowd, but the brave soul she is, she had muddled through, and pride warms my chest at the sight of her hiding as much food as possible like a little squirrel saving up for winter.
Soon enough I will be able to provide for her fully, but I don’t want to push her into leaving the only home she’s ever known before she’s ready.
She seemed to be enjoying the gathering well enough.
Then she had followed this group into the forest, and everything had fallen apart.
A nearly soundless snarl rips from my throat as I slink closer, my eyes locked on Maris, taking care to remain hidden by the bushes and trees. The scent of my mate’s blood fills my nostrils with each breath, enough for red to sparkle in my vision, but I force myself not to attack.
Not yet.
I must be patient.
For her.
I force myself to breathe. Maris is injured, yes, but not fatally.
There’s not enough blood for her to be in danger of bleeding out.
There’s a dark patch of blood on her dress, just above her hip, but with her arms bound to the tree I can’t tell how badly she is favoring it.
There are scratches and bruises on her face, more bruises where the sleeves of her gown are hiked, but she’s still standing.
Her expression is defiant and furious, beautiful in its own way.
I have never loved her more, never been prouder.
Her eyes widen and I freeze, muscles shivering as I instinctively shrink deeper into the bushes. Her eyes are locked on me, unblinking. Her full lips part, then press together. She doesn’t scream, but nor does she look away, even as the other humans chatter away.
Then, so very slowly, her lips move. No sound comes out, not even to my enhanced hearing, but I don’t need to hear it to know what she’s saying.
Help me.
That’s good enough for me.
I push myself up, throat rippling as I howl and snarl, fangs snapping.
The other humans shriek, and I’m almost disappointed when none of them stand and fight; they sprint away, tripping over one another and leaving my mate bound to the tree.
I’m not violent by nature, but I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to make one of those fools bleed.
I can only hope that at least one of them peed their pants.
Fatally or not, it matters little to me, but I will remember their faces.
This isn’t over.
I pad closer, hesitant to approach my mate.
Her eyes are enormous, but other than a few flutters, they’re locked on me.
My ears prick, picking up the soft melody spilling from between her parted lips; not speaking, but humming, softer than I had expected.
The sound seems to comfort her. She doesn’t shrink away even as I rise to my full height, although her head does tilt back, thumping lightly against the bark of the tree.
“You’re not here to hurt me, are you?” she murmurs, finally close enough to touch.
I freeze, then shake my head vehemently.
I have learned from humans that shaking a head in this direction is a refusal, although it pales in comparison to what I wish to say.
I want to tell her that I would die before I harm her, that no curse could turn me away from her, but I don’t.
She is my mate, yes, but I have been blessed to know that for years; she has not.
I will take it slow so as not to scare her, to prove that I’m a worthy mate. I have all the time in the world.
Maris lapses back into silence as I cross the last few feet between us.
My claws are sharp, dangerously so, but they are not meant for cutting through ropes.
The shape is all wrong, and I dare not make any wild slashes for fear that I’ll accidentally cut her.
She’s already hurt, and I refuse to make it worse.
So as much as I want to impress my mate with one fierce slash of my claws and sweeping her up in my arms until we are safely back in one of my caves, that is unfortunately not the way things go.
It is instead more of a painfully slow shuffle of my claws against the rope, one paw braced on the tree between Maris and the rope so there is no chance of accidentally cutting her.
It takes longer than I would like, but my mate is endlessly patient. She barely twitches when I growl faintly under my breath in frustration, then immediately wilt in guilt.
“Sorry,” I manage.
My ears flatten. I hate the sound of my voice now, so guttural and savage, but it’s better than no speech at all.
Still, it makes me wonder what my human voice will sound like, if this curse is ever lifted from me.
But I need to speak, to reassure her. I will simply have to do my best not to scare her.
The last of the ropes fall away and Maris winces, one hand going to her side. I can still smell the blood, but is it hers or one of the other humans? She hurt them even as they had hurt her; I am proud of her fierceness. A she-wolf in human form.
“Hurt,” I breathe.
I sink a little to get closer to her height, then stop, paws flexing.
Picking her up and carrying her is the fastest way to do this, but I need her permission to do that without scaring her.
The only problem is that I don’t know what to say, how to phrase it so that she knows what I want.
I’ve never been more aware of the gaps in my education from simply watching humans. My paws flex again.
“Hold? Lift?”
She hesitates for a moment, a thin line drawn between her brows, before she nods slowly. I gather her into my arms as carefully as I can, tucking her against my chest. She is light, too light, and it is not just because I am strong. She needs more food. From now on, I will make sure she has it.
Cradling Maris to my chest gently, I take off, bounding through the forest toward the nearest cave.
It doesn’t particularly matter which one I go to since I have worked hard to make sure all of them have everything we need if it comes to an emergency.
It just so happens that this one is the best choice.
Plenty to show her, a chance to impress her, to prove that I am a worthy mate.
Maris curls against my chest as I run, one bloody hand curled around my arm where it holds her. Every quick, gasping breath drags more of her scent into my lungs, the sweetness overpowered by the bitter stench of blood. Not overpowering, but still too much for my taste.
“Hurt?” I murmur gently, tracing the edges of the wound with my claws. She gasps softly and I tighten my grip. “Close.”
Her faint humming fades, but she doesn’t protest, doesn’t say a word when we finally arrive at the cave, my claws clicking on the stone floor.
The sound echoes around us. I want nothing more than to hold her always, to refuse to set her down, but I don’t.
Instead, I reluctantly lower her to the ground, steadying her against my chest when she stumbles.
Her hands rise, resting gently against my chest as she tilts her head back to look at me, then yanks her hands back as if burned.
I whine softly.
“You’re female. I apologize. I wasn’t trying to… cop a feel,” she mumbles, taking a slow step back.
My ears swivel, my mind whirling as I try to understand what she said.
Everything I have learned of human speech I know from listening to the humans, and I have been diligent about learning everything I can so that I was prepared to communicate with Maris when the time came.
But some words, some phrases, I still don’t understand, and it’s frustrating.
Maris says nothing else and I still don’t know what she meant, but nor do I know the right words to ask.
I hate it, but listening to her heartbeat is enough to distract me.
It’s too fast and too slow at the same time, slowing even more the longer I stand here.
Whatever it is, she’s still bleeding too much.
“Come. Hurt.”
I close my claws gently around her wrist and tug.
She follows me slowly as I lead her into one of the smaller cave rooms, one with a gently bubbling spring of clean water.
I help Maris sit on one of the massive rocks at the edge, then pad over to the wall to remove clothes and healing herbs that I’ve stacked in baskets along the wall.
“Help.”
I touch her dress gently with one claw, prodding at the spot of blood on the front of her dress. My ears twitch. Her heart is speeding up, her scent slightly sweeter for some reason I cannot name, but she turns away. One hand twitches toward her back.
“Can you unlace my dress? It will be easier that way.”
Lace? I follow her gesture to the narrow strings holding her dress together.
My heart leaps. My paws shake as I carefully curl my claws around the strings and tug, unwinding the top of her dress.
She holds the front in place, loosening the bottom so that I can have access to the wound in her side without seeing her breasts.
Disappointment shudders through me, but I push it away like a dog shaking water from its coat.
I want her, of course; she is my mate. But she might not feel the same way about me, a monster, and I can live with that.
“You’re so gentle,” Maris observes, then winces as I dab at her wound with a damp cloth.
No matter how careful I am, I can still feel the tiny sparks of pain that shudder through her when I touch her skin with the damp cloth.
But I am still succeeding at cleaning away the dried blood on her silky skin, and the wound has stopped bleeding.
“Gentle,” I agree softly.
I may not have been able to stop her from being injured in the first place, but now that I’m here, I will never let someone hurt her again.
I will protect her with my life.