Calex

Time blurs when you're watching someone fight for their life. I'm not a stranger to seeing over my pack fight for theirs, but hers. . . it feels like a lifetime, and it's unbearable.

Three days have passed since I found her—my Mate. She's nothing like she was that night when we scooped her up. It took all our restraint to leave her side, entrusting one of the wiser females to wash the filth from her body. Waiting outside the bathroom had been the longest fifteen minutes of my life. But the second she was in my arms again, it was worth it. Her hair—a beautiful, sandy brown—was thick and wavy. A soft, peachy tone returned to her skin, and her wounds finally began to heal.

When she woke the next morning, the pain knocked her out again soon after. I'm grateful to the Moon Goddess she's not writhing in agony anymore—those few minutes had been torture to watch. Even though she had been in pain, she fought against my hold. It made me proud, but I'm thankful it didn't last long. While she slept, I sat beside her, admiring her until I had to take my leave.

The night I approached her in the comfort of her home, the acidic smell from that night still clung to her and lingered in the air as she huddled beneath a blanket. Flynn remained in the background, watching over her while I whispered a warning about the time she had left. I couldn't help but breathe her in—savouring the scent of wild berries while resisting the urge to reach out and trace the shape of her shoulder through the fabric.

Now, I'm lurking near her house with a pair of sunglasses, and Flynn's still pissed about how relieved she'd been to see the male waiting on her doorstep.

I know he's the one she called out to that night. And I want to know what his connection is to her.

Battling the temptation to storm in and take the male out, I shove my hands deep into my pockets, forcing the image of her inviting him inside to the back of my mind. Instead, I focus on how healthy she looks now that the venom's fused with her DNA. Her hair is exactly how it was after her bath—thick, the perfect shade of golden brown. Colour has fully returned to her skin. And her eyes. . . they remind me of grass dancing in the sunlight on a summer's day. I remember her body—slightly curvy, average build—but it had been so soft and perfect in our hold that night. I can't stop wondering if her embrace is as warm as I imagined.

I want to know. . .

Following my train of thought, Flynn eases up. It's a new turn from "she's pleased to see him, but not us?"

Raised voices prick my ears, stealing my attention.

"Mate in distress," he snarls, scratching to get out. "Go to mate now! Need to touch her—she's close to transition." Pausing, he licks his muzzle. "Let me eat the male."

Letting out a harsh breath, I turn from the house and dig my fingers into the bark of the tree. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to barge in and comfort her, to tear apart the one upsetting her. After finding her only days ago, seeing her just once since then, and knowing she's close to transitioning, every instinct howls to go to her. Add Flynn to the mix, and it's taking everything I have to stay grounded.

"No, Flynn," I strain. "We have to trust our female to handle herself now. If you're lucky, she might kick him in the balls."

His muzzle peels back in joy at the thought.

Eyeing the neighbourhood, I frown.

The street is too quiet for this time of day. Surely no one suspects anything from the night of the attack.

Word got back: it had been taken care of. No security cameras. Pinned as a drunken mishap taken too far. Since this is my first visit to the area, I'll let it slide as a quiet street—but further investigation will test that theory. With my Mate living here, I'm not taking any chances. If fate is on my side, she won't be here much longer.

Another reason to hate this town: no consistent patterns. It's all random disarray. At least in the woods, you leave a mark, follow a path, and everything overlaps sooner or later.

Growling, I fight the urge to pace, using her voice in my mind to keep me centred.

The slam of a door straightens my spine. Flynn's ears twitch. The scent of fear is back—only this time, it's not radiating from her. It's from him.

Peering around the corner, I see him backing up onto the pavement, stumbling over himself with his bag held conveniently between him and my Mate. I hold back a snarl. Despair floats around her, and Flynn emits a harsh rumble.

"He's upsetting her. Why isn't she kicking him in the balls?"

"Because this is something ball-kicking can't fix."

I watch as the male makes tracks down the street, pumping his limbs back and forth until his stench of fear disappears with him. Inhaling deeply, a faint earthy fragrance drifts from the tree, tangling with the salt of sorrow from across the road—until the door cuts it off. Weak sobs seep from inside the house, driving me insane while Flynn claws to break through and comfort her.

There are a few thuds and a muffled shriek, then silence. Not long after, a small rustle.

Two minutes later, she storms out in a long-sleeved top, baggy joggers, and sunglasses. A backpack is slung over her shoulders, her grip on the straps so tight they crinkle. Every step is full of purpose, but her legs shake with each one. I pray something gives her a reason to turn back. Risking proximity might scare her off, and I can't let her wander somewhere I won't be able to retrieve her before the shift.

If my scent doesn't give me away, the slip of the shades will. I remember how she stared into my eyes with terror, and I want to carve that image from my memory.

With every passing hour, hiding her for the transition is getting harder. Flynn's curiosity rivals my own—what her wolf will look like, the colour and texture of her fur, the shade her eyes will become, or if they'll look just like ours. He wants to curl around her, to make sure she knows she's safe.

Cocking her head, I catch the slight twitch of her nose, the bob of her throat as she swallows. Her hand flattens over her stomach, rubbing like something's missing. I follow her gaze to a nearby market filled with trinkets, books, clothes, and food.

"Mate is starving," Flynn notes.

"I know. But she doesn't. This is all new to her." I track her steps as she moves through the crowd. Her eyes are everywhere. Closed off. And even among all those people, her heart races.

She doesn't take long to pass a large set of gates, her shoulders finally relaxing, no longer pressed to her ears.

She'll be safe within college grounds.

Many wolves attend, and Flynn relaxes knowing the rogues will look after her—whether I give the order or not.

"Alpha, what brings you here?"

I glance over my shoulder to find a familiar face. He shuffles to my side with a subtle bow of the head.

If I can't be beside her, at least someone I trust will be.

Suppressing the low growl that threatens, I force a tight nod. "Ronny, do you know a male named Kai?"

His eyes widen in my peripheral before narrowing on the gate ahead. "He's on my basketball team. Human." He clears his throat, checking our surroundings. "If you don't mind me asking—why the interest?"

I can smell a trace of nerves, but he holds himself well. Calm. Collected. I respect that. Flynn does too, judging by his approving nod.

"Don't let him out of your sight," Flynn warns, though Ronny can't hear him. "He could be a liability."

I grunt in agreement. "I need you to keep a close eye on him," I say aloud. I growl when a group of females pass, giggling at Ronny before glancing my way. One glare and they scurry off. "I have reason to believe he's suspicious of our world. I need to know if he's trustworthy."

Leaning against the wall, I narrow my eyes on my Mate as she disappears through a building marked Reception.

Ronny steps aside, staying just within my line of sight with another subtle nod. Adjusting the duffle on his shoulder, he smiles. "Of course, Alpha. I'll keep you updated."

Returning the nod, I watch him head toward the gates she walked through. I've never felt the urge to go to someone—just to exist in their space—the way I do now. I want her beside me. Flynn wants that too.

Fucking hell, it'd be so much easier if I could skip all this and start teaching her—so she's ready when the time comes.

"We'll teach her what she needs to know," Flynn assures me, his voice gruff. "Not long to go."

Letting out a rough breath, I turn away. He's right. It won't be long now. Then she'll understand—we're not the villains in this story. And when the time is right, she'll find her place beside us.

Moon Goddess, I know I don't pray much, but please let this be true.