The Pack's Fury
968 Words
Nianell’s POV
“Is it permanent?” I asked, my fingers brushing the place on my neck where Adrian had bitten me.
It felt like it should be wet, like there should be blood, but there wasn’t. His teeth had gone deep, sharp against my skin, but when I touched the spot, it was smooth. Dry. The indent of his bite was already gone.
“It’s as permanent as a tattoo or those piercings you love so much,” he said with a smirk, reaching over to flick the ring in my nose area.
I swatted his hand away, glaring. “So, it can be removed then. People get rid of tattoos, and piercings close up if you take them out.”
Adrian growled softly, the sound frustrated. It was clear he didn’t like this line of conversation. But I needed to know. I couldn’t walk around forever with his mark on me, not when he’d probably find someone who truly deserved it someday.
“Yeah,” he admitted finally, his voice low. “It can be removed as long as the pair isn’t fated mates.”
“Good,” I said, relieved. I turned my eyes back to the window, watching the streets change as we drove deeper into Point Loma, closer to the packhouse. “If it couldn’t be undone, I’d feel awful for whoever your real mate is. This should belong to her, not me.”
Adrian’s smirk returned as he kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah. That mark belongs to my mate.”
I looked away, swallowing against the small ache his words caused in my chest. Whoever she was, she’d be lucky. Someone as strong and confident as Adrian deserved a mate who matched him, someone who wouldn’t need to fake it.
“It’s a good thing this isn’t permanent, then,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I have a friend at the Academy who can send me books on breaking bonds. I’ll figure it out soon, and I’ll be out of your way before you know it.”
“I don’t mind you being in my way,” Adrian said, his voice soft but firm.
A shiver ran through me, settling low in my belly. His words sounded innocent, but they felt anything but. Heat flared in my cheeks, and I quickly turned away, desperate to stop the images flashing through my mind.
I had to focus. This wasn’t real. I wasn’t his mate. This was just a plan, nothing more.
I reminded myself of Lisa and Maxwell’s story. Lisa had met her mate, Maxwell, and their connection was undeniable. But his pack had tried to tear them apart. They couldn’t stand the idea of a witch and a werewolf being together. And while a vampire had stirred up the chaos, the truth was clear our kinds didn’t trust each other.
That history ran deep. Werewolves once controlled witches, forcing them to follow rules they didn’t agree with and even taking their children as hostages. And witches had their own dark past, cursing humans and creating some of the first werewolves. Trust between our kinds had always been rare, and even when it existed, it was fragile.
“When we get to the packhouse, stay close to me,” Adrian said, breaking into my thoughts.
“You think your pack would hurt me?” I asked, frowning.
He shook his head, but his voice was serious. “I trust them with my life, but I wouldn’t trust them with yours. And Nianell,” he paused, his gaze briefly meeting mine, “whatever you hear, don’t think I’ll back out of my word. I’m helping you. Period.”
I smiled, fiddling with the rings on my fingers. “Thank you, Adrian.”
We pulled up to the packhouse shortly after. The building looked like a regular house, nothing out of the ordinary from the outside. There was even a path that led down to the beach. The ocean shimmered in the distance, calm and inviting.
Adrian got out first, pulling my bags from the back. He joined me on the sidewalk, his hand pressing lightly to my back as he guided me to the house. My heart pounded as I noticed pack members turning to look at us.
Their expressions darkened as Adrian’s scent on me reached them. Some glared openly; others whispered in shock. A few followed us inside, their voices rising as tension filled the air.
“Adrian!” a deep voice boomed from the top of the stairs.
We both looked up. A tall, broad man with a hard expression stood there, his nostrils flaring as he took in the scene.
“Why is there a witch in my packhouse with your scent on her?”
Adrian slid his arm around my shoulders, holding me close like he had back at my house. His voice was calm but loud enough for everyone to hear.
“It’s customary for mates to live together,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “And I assumed you wouldn’t want me leaving the packhouse right now.”
The man’s face turned red, his narrowed eyes full of fury. “So, your mate is a witch?”
The room erupted and the members started shouting
“She can’t be Luna!” someone shouted from behind us.
“I won’t follow a witch as our Luna!” another voice yelled.
“I can name two witch Lunas right now,” a girl said to my right, her tone thoughtful as she looked at me.
“She’s not our Luna! Adrian needs to choose, his pack or the witch!”
Adrian’s arm tightened around me, his silence louder than all their shouting. I bit my lip, standing still as the storm raged around us.
- Writer
