Mythical Mates

Three

Brielle had been in hundreds of fights since she was 6. She’d known the pain of being hit in the face, but never to the point she saw light. As she and Angela charged at each other, she dipped and slid, trying to lock her legs around Angela’s in hopes of taking her down with one quick moneveur. Unfortunately, Angie’s reflexes were sharper than they were the last time they sparred. As Brie tried to hook her leg, Angela side stepped, using Brie’s momentum to add power to her kick. Her foot connected with Brielle’s chin and she screamed and muffled a groan. Blood pooled from her mouth. The impact caused her to bite a gash into her tongue. The taste of metal and copper made her want to vomit. As she readjusted her jaw, something small and hard fell to the back of her throat. She spit it out and was bewildered to see it was a tooth. Angela let her climb to her feet, a smirk on her face as Brie tried to control the blood spilling from her lips. The boys gasped and covered their mouths. Brie felt a growl surfacing but she pushed it down. Angie was trying to humiliate her, like always. If she lashed out, she’d get sloppy and lose, adding fuel to the flame. She needed to outsmart her.

“Aww, sorry Brie, wanna take a break and have the doctor look at that?” Angie taunted her. Brielle shook her head, spitting out more blood.

“Nah, I’m glad you knocked that one out for me. Doc said I had 2 more human teeth that needed to come out to make room for my canines. This way, they don’t come in crooked. Wouldn’t want mine to look like yours.” The boys nudged each other and held back their laughter. Angela’s face grew red and she closed her mouth tight. It was one of the few insecurities she had. She didn’t like causing damage to her face, so she avoided the process of getting her human teeth pulled in fear that it would devalue her appearance. When her canines naturally started pushing out her human teeth, some of them crew in crooked. The doctor recommended braces, but that would mean she wouldn’t be able to transform for 2 years while her teeth aligned since they weren’t structured to fit her wolf’s mouth. Brie glanced at Charley, half expecting him to be furious with her for embarrassing his daughter, but if he was upset, he didn’t show it. Her tactic worked and Angela threw herself at Bri, throwing punches as fast as lightning. Brie did her best to block them, clenching her teeth as she tried to ignore the pain shooting up her forearms. She wasn’t afraid of having a few cuts on her face, but she wasn’t immune to getting knocked out, so she needed to protect her head. She kept her arms and elbows tucked close to her body, waiting for Angela to make a mistake and leave herself open. Angela was angrily grunting between each punch, throwing her whole body into it. Eventually, one of Angela’s punches opened up her abdomen and Brielle quickly took advantage. She ducked low, casting Angie a smile before she started hammering her fists into Angie's torso. Angela gasped breathlessly as the last punch caused a loud c***k and she stumbled back, kneeling to the ground and gagging. She threw up, holding her side as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Timeout!” Charley called, blowing his whistle. He put a hand on her back, checking her condition. She gently pushed him away, trying to stand. A sharp pain sent her back to the ground. Charley gently placed a hand under her breast and she cried out. “s**t, that’s a broken rib alright.” He ignored her protested cries as he threw her arm around his neck and forced her to stand. “Looks like you’ll be missing that patrol after all. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

Brielle actually felt guilty watching Angela struggle to hold herself up, her face scrunched in agony. “Um, should I call for a stretcher? The infirmary is 10 minutes away. Will she be able to walk?”

“Don’t worry bout her. We come from a family of fighters, real warriors.” He reassured her. “You know how many times I’ve crawled to the infirmary with 2 broken hind legs? Ask your daddy.” He chuckled and looked to his boys. “You’re dismissed for the day, go shower up while I take Angie to the doctor. Work on your techniques over the weekend. I’ll expect some improvement come Monday.” He nodded a farewell and helped Angie off the field. Brie rolled her head back, massaging her chin and wiping more blood from her mouth. She wanted to win, she always won, so why did she feel like crap this time? She didn’t do anything dirty. It was Angela’s fault for lashing out and lowering her guard.

Brielle walked into the hospital ward, the nurse at the front desk shot up from her desk with worry.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” She asked Brielle. “Should I call a doctor to look at that for you?”

Brie glanced over at the other people sitting in the waiting room. Some had ice packs and bandages on their bodies. They had bored and aggravated expressions on their faces. Clearly, they’d been waiting for a doctor far longer than she had. Being the pack Alpah’s daughter warranted her priority, but it wouldn’t feel fair for her to be treated for something so minimal. “I’m fine. I actually wanted to visit my friend Everet. Is he awake?” The nurse took one more nervous glance at the bruise on Brie’s chin and the blood staining her shirt before going back to her computer.

“Everet has been sleeping off his pain medicine. He should be awake, but he may still be a bit groggy. Wait here and a nurse will escort you.”

Brie sat in a vacant chair and waited. The man next to her was coughing hysterically into a handkerchief. It was rare that Werewolves got sick and most times it wasn’t anything contagious, so Brie wasn’t scared to reach over and gently pat the man’s back. When he pulled the handkerchief back, there was blood and thick foam. Her brows furrowed. What could be wrong with him? When he looked at her, she was taken aback by how dark his eyes were. She couldn’t even make out his pupils. When he started coughing again, she quickly ripped off a part of her tshirt that wasn’t stained with blood and handed it to him. His breathing was shallow, his eyes tired, but he nodded with gratitude.

“Ms. Duchane”, the nurse called. Brielle stood and approached the smiling nurse.

“Hi, um, I think that man right there is seriously sick. I think he needs a doctor immediately.” The nurse glanced over at the man.

“As of right now, our doctors are very busy. A nurse will come get him when someone is available.”

“But, the nurse at the desk was going to get me a doctor, now, for a little bruising.” Brie protested. “Can’t the doctor who was going to help me, help him instead?”

“Those with close relation to our Alpha are treated by a personal doctor. If you wish for Dr. Esan to treat this man, we will need a formal or verbal request from your father or mother.”

“I can’t speak on their behalf? I don’t get a say?” The nurse breathed a sigh, still maintaining a forced smile.

“We’ll shoot Dr. Esan a call and see if he’s available. Do you still wish to see Everet?”

Brielle glanced back at the man. She didn’t really believe the nurse, but there wasn’t much she could do without her parents. She’ll have a talk with them later. The nurse gestured her toward the patient ward and escorted her to Everett’s room. She stood outside as Brie went in. Instantly she noticed all the Get Well Soon! Cards and balloons lining his bed and the window. The television was on, but Everett’s eyes were closed. Looks like he fell back to sleep. She didn’t want to wake him, but she wasn’t ready to leave yet either. She crept over, silently pulling a chair next to his bed. The thin blanket was tucked under his sides, resting just above his ribs. It was freezing in the hospital, surely they could spare their patients thicker blankets. That’ll be something else she talks to her parents about. She looked at his face. Most of the scratches from the fight had disappeared. His skin looked paler than usual and his breathing came in shallow pants. She wondered if he was in pain, or if he were having a nightmare. Still, he was so handsome, it hurt to look at him. He wasn’t hers after all. The thought pulled at her heartstrings, playing a sad symphony no one else could hear. Her wolf, Cora, pressed against her mind comfortingly. She purred in her ears, creating a soft vibration in her skull. She was grateful that she understood despite Everet not being their mate. “We’ll find our mate too.” Cora said. “And their love will mend your broken heart.” Brie sniffed back tears and gently held Everett’s hand, wanting to feel the warmth she had when she held them at prom. “I know.” Everett’s eyes fluttered open and he tiredly looked up at her. Quickly, she released his hand, knowing that her touch would cause him discomfort now that he’d found his mate. “Hey Evie.”

“Hey..” he said back sleepily. His voice was deep and gurgled.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He admitted. “My head’s been killing me and I’ve been running a fever to the point my vision’s gone blurry.” He took in her appearance. “Are you sure you’re not the one I should be asking that? Who beat your ass?” She smiled, looking down at her bloodied shirt. She must look a mess right now, but it didn’t matter. At least now she didn’t have to worry about looking nice for him.

“You should see the other guy.” They broke out in laughter, though his was dry and scratchy. She handed him the cup of water sitting by his bed. “I had a sparing match with Angela. She gave me this,” Brie bared her teeth and stuck out her tongue to show the gash. He sucked in air through his teeth, cringing.

“Damn, I know that hurt.”

“Yeah well, I also broke a few of her ribs, so.”

“You two are going to have to learn to get along at some point, you know? She’s the pack’s future gamma.”

“Hey, she picked a fight with me first. I was going to go easy on her.” Everet rolled his eyes mockingly. Silence fell, making the room feel colder than it already was.

“How’s my Hailey?” He asked. “She looked really tired last night.”

Brie looked away from him, struggling to swallow the lump growing in her throat. Even if it was for a few minutes, a quick moment, she wished he wouldn’t talk about Hailey. “She wanted to visit you, but I told her I’d come instead so she can rest. Exams are coming up and I’d hate to see her burned out from fatigue.” He smiled, placing his hand comfortingly atop hers. Brie flinched, but didn’t pull away. She searched his features for any hint of discomfort or disgust. He hid it well.

“I’m glad you’re looking out for her…despite our history. You really pulled through for me the other day and I don’t feel like I thanked you enough. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend. This may come off as kinda cheesy, but I…I love you, Brie.”

Brielle choked back a sob, the lump in her throat growing harder and wider by the second. Had he known all this time about how she felt about him? She fought back the tears that were glossing over her eyes. “I love you too, Evie.” A wave of acceptance passed through her. He was drawing a clear line between them. She knew this would be the last time he said those words to her. She respected him too much not to honor it. She promised herself this would be the last time she visited him alone. It was time to let him go. When his hand fell from hers, he let out a yawn, but was interrupted by a fit of coughing. Brie reached for the water again, but the coughing didn’t cease for him to drink. He turned to his side and began coughing into his blanket. His vitals started to rise and Brie could hear the distant footsteps of nurses rushing over. One nurse entered and put a steady hand on Everet’s back. When he calmed down, she helped him sit back.

“I’m sorry, but Everet won’t be having anymore visitors for the day.” The nurse told her. Brie nodded, signalling a farewell with her eyes. Before she turned to leave she caught a glimpse of the blanket he had coughed into. Staining the fabric was thick blood and white foam. Her brows knitted together. As she heard the nurse paging for Dr. Esan, she turned and left the room.

The air was thick with the chills of winter ahead. Isla hugged her body, trembling as she wandered her quiet village searching for a warm place to rest her head. The moon shone bright acting as her guide. She tried her best to stay quiet, choking back her sobs. After all, it was dangerous for a young girl to be out in the middle of the night. She wondered what she could have done wrong to make her father so livid. She had tried her best for weeks to make him as comfortable as possible, but still her efforts weren’t enough. If only she were a boy. Then she could go hunting and bring back meat her father would love. Once he got healthy he’d become the father she wanted. The coming days, she made it her mission to find a way to attend the hunt. She wrapped old blankets around herself, tearing and sewing them using an ice pick and yarn to form pants and a coat. She used a torch to burn off her hair and mud to put out the flames before they reached her scalp. Surely no one would think she was a girl, let alone pay any attention to her as a poorly dressed, dirty peasant. Now, all she needed was a weapon she could use. On one particular night, she was scavenging the marketplace for fallen food left behind when she heard the ruckus of men at the village brewery. She hesitated, but as her empty belly growled louder, she slowly made her way over. Inside, it was warm and brightly lit. The air smelled of beer, moss, roasted garlic and fish. Men sat at the bar, falling off their stools as they bellowed with laughter. Their glass mugs spilled more beer on the floor than in their mouths. A group of men sat in a circle, playing card games and uttering frustrated swears. The only women in the building were servers who rushed back and forth to refill beer mugs and carry out trays of food. Isla’s mouth watered at the sight of steaming potatoes, roasted vegetables, and freshly baked bread. It saddened her to see so much of it being wasted and chucked aside by the drunks too privileged to truly understand what hunger felt like. Surely, they could spare her something small and warm to eat to get her through the night. Isla took a deep breath, gathering as much courage as she could and began approaching each table, keeping herself small and invisible as she tried to acquire some of the food that still looked good to eat.

“Beat it, kid!” One of the drunkards shouted as he kicked her away from the table. She stumbled back, knocking into one of the servers. The beer she was holding spilled, drenching the server’s uniform.

“Look what you did!” The server cried. One of the men swore at her for wasting his beer and she glared daggers into Isla. Frightened and guilty, Isla offered to help clean the woman’s clothes. The server recoiled, disgusted. “You’re filthy, don’t touch me.” With that, she turned on her heels and angrily walked away. Isla looked at her wet hands and the sleeves now soaked with beer. Curious, she placed her lips to her sleeve and sucked. She gagged, the taste was horrid and it burned her throat. How could the men of the town drink this so naturally? Still, she was grateful for the warmth it brought to her stomach and the return of moisture to her tongue. She turned to the bar, recognizing one of the chubby men as the father of one of the school boys who often picked on her. He was a well known politician who was often known to throw money away on toys and fabrics that his wife and children got rid of days after receiving them. Surely he could spare her some coin for a hot meal. As she approached, she noticed his coin pouch hanging loosely from the pocket of his pants. If he wasn’t careful, his coins would fall out. She was about to tap him and let him know when someone grabbed her arm.

“Hey! You stole my roll, you little brat!” The man shouted. Isla’s eyes widened, confused and afraid. She had managed to get a hold of a few pieces of bread, but only off the floor.

“I-I didn’t” she stammered.

“Looks like he’s after your coin too, boss.” The man accused, pointing at the boss's pants and the loose coin pouch. The bossman scowled at her.

“You want to steal from me?” He barked. His eyes were low, his voice slurred as drool hung at his lips. “I’ll have you beheaded boy.” He lunged at her, swinging his meaty fist. She got low to the ground, dodging the blow as the boss man’s fist hit the other man in the gut. He gasped and fell back into another server who lost her balance and splattered hot stew onto one of the card players. The card player grew red with rage and punched the guy in the face. In a matter of seconds, all the men broke out into a brawl. Isla stayed close to the ground, trying her best to crawl toward the exit. Someone grabbed her leg and yanked her back. It was the boss man who had also winded up on the floor, cold veggies clung to the side of his face.

“Where ya think you’re going, little thief?” He growled. Isla struggled to loosen his grip, but he wouldn’t budge. She had no choice but to use all the strength she could muster to kick the man in the nose. He howled in pain and let her go. She didn’t hesitate to climb to her feet and sprint out of the brewery. When she felt the coast was clear, she stopped and took a breath, her heart pounding. She was sweating despite the cold air. If she didn’t find shelter soon, she would freeze. As she turned the corner to her hideout, someone grabbed the collar of her makeshift coat and yanked her to the ground. When she looked up, it was the boss man again. He grinned deviously.

“P-Please, I wasn’t trying to steal from you.” She pleaded. He placed a dirty boot on her chest. She cried out as he added pressure. She felt her lungs being crushed against the earth.

“Little bastards like you need a lesson in respect.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blade. Tears filled Isla’s eyes. Was she about to die? “It’s not like anyone will worry about you after all.” He laughed, drawing the blade close to her face. The blade slid across her cheek and she cried out, but it came out hushed as he added more pressure to her chest. She felt her ribs giving way and reached her arm out as far as it would go. She felt a sharp rock and quickly drove it into the man’s leg. He screamed, stumbling over and hitting his head against the brick wall. He lay still. Isla heaved, fighting to draw air into her lungs before realization struck. She assaulted a politician. He’ll have her killed. Tears fell from her eyes and she found herself sobbing. She wished she could go home. She wished her father would hold her like he used to and tell her it was okay. She wished someone would help her. When her sobbing ceased, she gathered her bearings. She needed to focus on her own survival if she wanted to help her father. She checked the man to make sure he was still breathing and sighed in relief. She quickly took his blade and stuffed it into his clothes. Before she left, she took the coin pouch out of the man’s pocket and propped him up as best she could with an empty beer bottle stuffed into his hand. She ran before anyone else could see what she’d done.