An Unlikely Mate

Secret's Out

Alexander had just put up the last table and chair for closing when he noticed Amelia was just now grabbing her things to leave.

"What took you so long? You're usually gone by now."

She stopped and sighed. "I was polishing the bar top and lost track of time. I'm leaving now."

"I appreciate the extra effort you put in. You're an asset to the bar..." he said awkwardly.

She looked surprised. "Thank you?" she said cautiously.

He nodded stiffly at her reply.

She practically ran out of the bar.

Yup, she thinks I hate her... he thought to himself.

Amelia's soft lips descended onto his. She kissed him tenderly with her hand running through her hair. He lay on the grass. She was straddling him. She wore a red dress with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline. "I love you," she whispered before kissing him again. He could only groan in response.

"Take me, make me your mate," she breathed. "Please, Alexander."

The way his name sounded on her lips drove him crazy. He grabbed her and flipped her over so he was on top. But before he could do anything else she melted away and Rebekah's dead body was in his arms. He woke violently with a scream, sweat soaking his shirt. His body screamed at him to go to Amelia. He listened, but not to give in and have her. No, he would reject her and end his suffering. He had to. He couldn't do this anymore. The image of Rebekah dead, after he'd enjoyed being with Amelia, tore him apart.

He got into his car and drove recklessly. He didn't need to know where she lived, she was calling to every sense in his body. Tears streamed down his face and his chest clenched with pain. Was this what dying felt like?

He pounded the steering wheel with his fist. Why had he been blessed with a second chance mate? He didn't want one! So many others did, why didn't they get one instead of him?

His very veins seemed to burn. He wanted her, needed her, but he hated himself for it. He couldn't be angry with her... no, a devil like himself couldn't hate an angel. He could only look at her with envy... and love. He loved her. He adored her. Yet, he would never allow himself to indulge those feelings. Not when he failed his first mate so miserably. Amelia deserved better than him.

Suddenly, he felt as thought he was flying. He heard metal crunch on metal. Glass shards ripped through his skin. He found himself rolling, tumbling, his body flipping around like a rag doll. He hadn't bothered with a seat belt. Finally, all motion stopped.

Alexander's car came to as top upside down. He'd drifted off the road, his tires hitting gravel on the shoulder. The sudden soft material under his tires had yanked his car off the road. He'd flipped down a small cliff, tumbling and rolling until the car came to as top on its roof.

Alexander lay in his car unconscious. A human would be long dead, but a Lycan could withstand serious injury.

A car pulled to a stop and footsteps approached. Alexander began to wake, his brain in a fog. A familiar voice was screaming his name. Her voice brought him around quickly. Why was Amelia here? She couldn't be here...

Amelia was trying to yank the door open. Her voice shrill with panic. He pushed the door open from inside and crawled out. She covered her mouth with her hands as he came into full view. Broken bones, cuts and blood, yet he was standing up. Shakily, but still standing. He pulled a chunk of glass from his chest and threw it on the ground.

Amelia stumbled back, horror written across her face.

A gash in his head poured blood. He reached up and wiped the blood away. His other arm bent unnatural as it was broken.

"How did you find me?" he asked.

Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

"Anser me," he demanded.

"I... I just knew where you were. I... you... I could feel that you were in trouble. You were in pain." Her voice faultered. "I don't know how I knew, but I just needed to find you."

The mate bond was growing. She felt his anguish and it led her straight to him.

He felt it before it began. His body was healing itself.

Amelia stared at him as she watched the gash in his head close up and his broken bones become straight again.

He knew he was terrifying her and he hated it, but he couldn't help it. His body did what it was meant to do regardless of who was watching.

Regenerating, something regular werewolves couldn't do. If a Lycan had time to heal, and there was no wolfsbane in their system, they would heal themselves. A Lycan could be killed, if the injury was severe enough that they couldn't heal fast enough or if wolfsbane was involved.

"What in the hell are you?" Amelia finally asked.