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  The wolves that surround me are getting bolder. At first there was hesitancy in their attack, clearly capture was their only objective, and they thought I’d be easy to take. But even exhausted, sad, and constantly trying to keep my thoughts from wandering to Rafe, I’m still giving them all the hell I can manage. It seems to be quite a lot of hell, actually, judging by the panting and grumbling of the wolves around me.”

  “Someone just tackle her already. She’s not going to come quietly.” I hear one yell amongst the snarls. A wolf backs away from the van, and then starts running toward the van, probably with the intention of knocking me off of it and onto the ground. I see him coming out of the corner of my eye though, and right as he leaps off the ground at full speed, I spin and my right paw connects with his face, redirecting his trajectory back towards the ground. He lands with a loud thud, and I celebrate my split-second of victory.

  But pride cometh before the fall, and with no small amount of irony, I fail to notice a wolf behind me that is able to grab my left hind leg, toppling my center of gravity. First I trip, then I tumble to the ground with him. Using the momentum I have, I push free of his grip and try to roll as far I can, hoping to put as much distance between me and the pack as possible.

  They’re not far from me though, and as they turn to me, approaching slowly, I can see a sickening smugness in their smiles. But between trying to be the werewolf version of American Gladiator on top of the van and running what feels like a marathon’s distance in less than five minutes, I don’t even have the strength to stand and run.

  I close my eyes and wait for the worst.

  In fact, nothing happens. After a few seconds, I peek one eye open, curious why my assailants are stalling. In front of me I see a dark outline, facing away from me.

  Black Fur, reflecting glints of orange and deep red in the last few rays of evening sun before day turns to night. Heaving great breaths of exertion. Dripping with something, blood or sweat, I can’t tell. Standing proudly, not giving an inch.

  Rafe.

  The smugness has been replaced with shock on the faces of the pack. If this were a cartoon, their eyes would be buggy and their jaws would be hanging on the floor.

  Rafe turns to me and speaks betweens gasps that sound like he’s breathing with glass shards in his lungs.

  “Are you all right, Aspen?”

  “Am I all right? Y-Yes.” I should ask him if he’s alright, since he’s the one that looks battered and bruised, but right now I’m sharing the pack’s confusion about how he got here and trying to regain my breath. Even if relief is pouring over me like cool rain that I’m not alone anymore. “How did you get here?” I finally mutter,

  “I said I would always protect you,” he says.

  “I know,” is all the response I can muster.

  The pack’s confusion is quickly turning to anger and resolution.

  “Finish him off and take the girl already,” I hear a voice command. It must be Fang, hiding somewhere in the mass of wolves in front of us.

  Hesitant, but obedient, they press towards us. In the waning light I can clearly see many deep wounds across Rafe’s body. I have no clue how he made it here to me, but whatever he did, it cost him dearly. I’ve never seen someone with so much blood loss and damage still alive, let alone standing ready to fight.

  But Rafe faces the pack, paws planted firmly in the ground, refusing to back down.

  Part of me wants to look away. I can’t bear to see my love die in front of me. Mustering what little strength I have left, I come to Rafe’s side. If it really is the end, I want to be with him. He looks at me at his side. And smiles. He wants to be together now too.

  In the distance, I can hear more howling. Great, more wolves. Goodbye world.

  But then, to my surprise, Rafe howls back. It seems like an illogical thing to do considering we’re surrounded on all sides, but I trust him.

  Perking my ears, I can hear the howl in the distance call back again, only closer now. It’s more familiar to me now, and I don’t know how I missed it before. I guess I was just too overwhelmed and panicked from the fight, because I would recognize that call anywhere.

  The pack in front of pauses for a second, as if anticipating something. The howling gets closer and closer, and I can hear movement in the forest behind us. I can see that the wolves aren’t so sure of themselves anymore. And one by one, they begin to peel off and run away at full speed. Those that remain look scared out of their minds.

  As if in unison, a large group of wolves burst through the trees behind us, charging past us and toward the enemy, now fleeing at full speed.

  Hawthorne, the voice I heard, and Lindon, close behind him, lead the chase. They must have brought half the pack with them, because I can see wolves that I haven’t seen in years. And with them are even more that I don’t recognize at all, but that they must have brought with them to the fight.

  Rafe turns to me, sagging slightly in relief. I let him lean against me, hoping to support him, and he nuzzles me closely. His breathing is evening now, the immediate threat gone.

  “You’re safe now Aspen,” he whispers.

  “Now it's my turn to my turn to ask if you’re ok.”

  He coughs and spits a small amount of blood on the ground. “Never been better," he says, followed by a weak grin.

  Lindon, who has circled back and is approaching us, chimes in. “What happened to you, Rafe?” Disregarding his own question, he shakes his head. “Let’s get you home. You may have super strength and regenerate faster than any wolf I know, but this is seriously pushing the limit. We need to take you to a hospital.”

  Rafe just grins.

  * * *

  The fight, thankfully, is all but over at this point. The few wolves that didn’t flee (or didn’t flee fast enough) have been given a sound beating and sent packing. The wolves Lindon and Hawthorne brought are coming back out of the woods, laughing heartily amongst themselves and forming a loose group around us.

  In the midst of the group, I can see Hawthorne moving towards us, dragging a petulant-looking werewolf by the tail. Hawthorne nods to us as he approaches and says something muffled by the tail in his mouth.

  I shake my head to let him know I have no idea what he’s saying and he comes closer.

  “Yo,” he somehow says through thick fur, smiling.

  “What the hell are you doing, Hawthorne?” Lindon asks.

  Upon reaching our small semicircle, Hawthorne swings the wolf he has by the tail around with a painful-looking jerk. The wolf stays on the ground, cowering and refusing to make eye contact with any of us.

  It’s Fang. Hawthorne must have chased him down and literally dragged him back by the tail.

  “What do you want done with this one?” Hawthorne asks, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “No mercy!” one of our friends calls out, making a thumbs down like he’s voting to execute a Roman gladiator, despite having no thumbs.

  Several of the other wolves laugh amongst themselves, but I look at Lindon and Rafe, not really sure what to do in this situation.

  “I don’t know. What would the code dictate?” I was never really good with knowing werewolf law and appropriate conduct. Most of it is pretty antiquated, and it never interested me much.

  Lindon pauses for a second, then says, “Tradition would typically have you kill him. He stepped outside of the rules, and, moreover, endangered your life and tried to kidnap you. It’s the only way to ensure he won’t try it again.”

  I frown. “I don’t think he’ll try it again,” I say, eyeing the beat up wolf warily.

  “That’s just the way a lot of werewolf tradition is though,” Lindon says. “We don’t have a particularly cheery heritage.”

  I look at Hawthorne for an answer.

  “Hey, don’t look at me. I just wanted to drag him around in the dirt for a while and figured I should bring him back so you could have some fun with him,” Hawthorne says with a shrug.

  I grin at his
silliness.

  “It’s your decision, Aspen,” Rafe says under his breath. “You’re the one who has been wronged here. Do with him as you please.” His voice is very controlled. I know he’s angry at Fang, but I don’t think he wants to influence me one way or the other.

  I walk over to Fang, stand over him and look down. He has never looked more pathetic and weak before, almost pitiable if he hadn’t caused me so much pain already. I’m sure if it was Rafe’s decision he would kill him in an instant. But the decision hanging over me makes me very uncomfortable.

  Fang looks up from balled-up, cowering state. He tries his best at looking pathetic and sad, as if to say, “Please don’t kill me. I’ll make sure my pack never tries anything again. I swear, wolf honor.”

  “Your honor means nothing,” I say, feeling angrier as I watch his cowardly begging. But I don’t wish to cause other wolves to come and avenge us should I kill him. With Rafe still recovering we don’t need another battle anytime soon. And I don’t particularly wish for blood on my hands, even his.

  But, what if I let him go and he tries again?

  At rare times like this I wish I was a human and didn’t have to make these tough choices.

  I look back at Rafe and he nods to me solemnly. Around us some of the wolves have begun chanting “Kill him! Kill him!” I can’t blame them for feeling that way, given that we’re in this situation because of him.

  I look down at Fang again, and bear my teeth. From this position, I can bite through his jugular.

  Our small crowd goes silent in anticipation. For a second there is nothing, and the entire forest around us answers with an eerie stillness, as if it too is waiting with baited breath for the ax to fall.

  I can feel everyone’s eyes boring into me. I bring my teeth down swiftly toward Fang’s face. He deserves it. He can’t be left alive to endanger us again. He has to be stopped once and for all.

  Mere inches away from his face, I stop. I hear a quiet gasp from several wolves around me (including Hawthorne), followed by complete silence.

  I bite hard onto his ear, making sure to tear it and leave a scar that will forever remind him of what he’s done, and the fact that I showed him mercy.

  I lean towards him, leaving only about a foot between us.

  “I’m letting you live, but don’t even think about ever showing up near us again. 1. Rafe will kill you and anyone you bring. 2. I’ll be claimed and there’s no point in you ever approaching us again. So get out of here, and I never want to see your fucking face ever again,” I say, a deep seriousness in my voice that sounds like a tone Rafe would have used. He’s obviously rubbing off on me, but I think it’s a good thing.

  I’m just becoming the alpha I was always meant to be. I’m learning how to think for the pack, not just for myself.

  There’s a loud chorus of cheering and whooping and ruckus among the wolves. Several howl at the moon which is beginning to appear in the darkening sky above us.

  Fang looks around, unsure what to do. Hawthorne comes up to him and gives him a quick kick in the side, which sends Fang bolting back towards the trees.

  “Get out of here you bastard,” Hawthorne calls behind him. He walks back to our little group. “You should have at least roughed him up a little more than that,” he says half-sarcastically.

  “I think you made the right decision,” Rafe says.

  “You do know he could try something again, right?” Lindon mutters, stating the obvious.

  “I do. But I think we’ve sent the clear message that if he screws with one of us, he screws with all of us,” I reply.

  The yelling and howling has mostly died down now, and the wolves brought by Lindon and Hawthorne start to trickle away, giving us a nod or a quick sign of affection before heading off.

  “So how did you pull all of that off?” I ask, very curious to know.

  “Magic,” Hawthorne says very practically.

  “No, seriously, how did you find us?” I ask, turning to Lindon in the hopes that he’ll give me a straight answer.

  Lindon nods. “Our family has a lot of connections, both in werewolf circles and in the human world. Many of these are connections that Rowan formed while he was younger and building our family empire. As soon as we discovered you and Rafe were taken, we put out notice.”

  “You’d be surprised how many people came to your aid. There are a lot of people looking out for you,” Hawthorne says with a wink.

  Sensing a still look a bit puzzled, Lindon continues.

  “We got word that some hunters had been given a job to capture a werewolf, and from that were able to run IDs and get a license plate and visual identification for their vehicle. As soon as we got another tip that it had been sighted, us and the others were on the road to its location. Once we were in the general area, we could follow your scent. Thankfully your pheromones make you a lot easier to track than a werewolf would normally be. Being with Rafe helped with that I’m sure.”

  I blush, a little embarrassed by that.

  ”So what happened exactly?” Hawthorne asks.

  I fidget uncomfortably. It’s all still too fresh in my memory, and much of it is still a blur. And I’m still processing what Rafe told me.

  Lindon senses this and turns to Rafe.

  “Let’s get you home, Alpha. You may think you’re invincible and all that, but you still require medical attention,” he says. “Or at least rest.”

  Chapter 5

  Rafe mutters something about being fine, but follows Lindon as he walks back toward wherever it is he’s going. Hawthorne and I follow them.

  “So, you and Rafe, huh?” Hawthorne whispers to me.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I reply, unsure how to reply to that.

  “I’m happy for you, honestly,” he says, hiding a small twinge of regret. “As I said before, I always knew it was going to be you two.”

  “Thank you, Hawthorne. You’ve been so kind to me. I always felt you treated me the most like a true pack mate, not an adopted orphan,” I say.

  There’s a moment of awkward silence.

  “On the bright side, we’ll still be siblings and get to see each other often,” I say, trying to perk up the situation.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Hawthorne says, trailing off. “To be honest, I think I’ll probably leave town for a bit. My entire life I’ve been here, with the pack, with my family responsibilities. But now the whole alpha thing is all but official, I think I need to go find myself.”

  “Do whatever will make you happy,” I tell him. “That’s all I want for you.”

  He grins, perking up a little. “Thanks Aspen. That means a lot to me.”

  We’ve reached a black SUV parked in a small clearing near the entrance to the forest. Lindon is in his human form and is putting a shirt on to go with the jeans he already has on.

  “Can’t get in the car looking like that,” Lindon nods to Hawthorne.

  “Darn. I was hoping to enjoy the reaction of people on the highway as they looked over to see a giant wolf in the passenger seat. Priceless,” Hawthorne says, then laughs at his own joke. Lindon just rolls his eyes.

  I smile, hearing Hawthorne sound more like his old self. I then realize I don’t have any clothes.

  Reading my mind, Lindon says, “Don’t worry, we have spare clothes in the car. It’s basically a necessity as a werewolf, since shifting quickly isn’t really conducive to keeping human clothes in one piece. You can get changed in the back while Hawthorne and I wait out here.”

  “We won’t look. Promise,” Hawthorne says, leering at me, but I know he means what he says.

  I get into the back of the SUV. Rafe is lying in his human form in the back seat, covered in a blanket. He motions to some clothes on the floor of the car.

  “Don’t look,” I tell Rafe. I’m too embarrassed right now with everything that has happened to have him checking me out. With a nod, Rafe closes his eyes and leans back.

  “That’s fine. I’ll just enjoy your scen
t instead,” he says, breathing in deeply.

  I turn beet red at this, but quickly decide there’s nothing I can do to stop him, and that even if I could, there’s a part of me that wouldn’t want to.

  I shift back into my human form, and quickly change into the clothes on the floor. They’re clean, but definitely men’s clothes based on the size. Thankfully the windows are tinted, allowing me to watch Lindon and Hawthorne outside looking away, chatting about something.

  When I’m dressed I move to the back of the SUV and sit down by Rafe. He’s covered with cuts and bruises, with a few deep cuts bleeding a little still, but nothing that looks like it’s an immediate danger to him now.

  “How are you feeling, Rafe?” I ask.

  “Like a million bucks,” he says sarcastically. “Much better with you here, though,” he adds, smiling.

  He catches my hand and pulls me gently into his lap. I feel self-conscious about it, with no makeup and in baggy men’s clothes, but he just nuzzles my nose and puts his arm around me.

  “That looks like it has to hurt,” I say, motioning to, well, everything.

  Rafe just smiles and looks deeply into my eyes. “Knowing you’re safe here with me and the happiness that brings is all I can feel right now,” he says.

  I blush and smile. With the tip of his finger, he tenderly tilts my chin, bringing my eyes back to his, then leans in, and kisses me deeply. Despite the exhaustion and the sweat and the worry, his kiss brings me to life. Everything else disappears and it’s just me and him, connecting together.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” He smiles, his lips mere millimeters away from mine.

  “Me too,” I say, unable to help a girlish giggle from escaping my lips. What this man does to me…

  Rafe brings both arms fully around me and pulls me in close, leaning in for another kiss, this time much deeper. This kiss is more sexual, more owning. I can feel my body resonating with his and his with mine. I part my lips and he goes inside of my mouth, feeling every part inside with his tongue, exploring, setting me on fire. My breathing is getting heavier, the air is getting thicker around me. I pull away for a second, my mind in a haze now.