My Cursed Mate's Revenge

Chapter 4: A Frozen Death Denied

Present:

Freya



My mind comes back to the world slowly, marveling at the deep shades of red and orange painting the backs of my lids, the colors turning a violent shade of white as soon as I open my eyes, forcing me to quickly close them.

The sun is high in the sky above me, its heat beating down on my face. Its light keeps getting interrupted, shadows wheezing by my lids too quickly to provide any relief from the painful light and heat. I try to raise my hand, hoping to shield my eyes and relieve some of the pain.

I cannot feel my hand.

I cannot feel anything.

All at that once, the memories of the past two weeks come rushing back. My frantic escape from under the mountain, the sound of wolves as they caught my scent, the cliff and-

I had jumped. I had survived.

By some miracle or merely by chance, I had survived and was now floating down the river I had accepted as my grave the night before. Its waters were fed by the melted snow from the mountains of my home and the frigid water had turned my limbs to blocks of ice, floating uselessly now at my sides.

My eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight, allowing me to open them and take in my rapidly changing surroundings. The current has a strong grip on me, picking up speed as I try to turn my head. All I needed was one well placed branch, or better yet a rock- something to hold me in place long enough and give my limbs a moment of reprieve from the icy waters.

If I had any feeling returned to my hands, I knew I could pull myself to shore, get my bearings, get feeling back into my limbs, and get a plan together.

A branch on the shore catches my eye. It is hanging into the waters, just near enough to inspire hope. The current is pushing me towards it, getting even faster.

Too fast now.

I still have no feeling in my limbs. I had to grab it while I still had some strength remaining, or I ran the risk of having the current pull me further and further along, slowly sapping the remainder of my body’s strength and warmth until there was nothing left for the cold to take, a feeling I knew would be unbelievably unpleasant.

But my limbs feel as if lead weights are tied to them.

And the branch is already too close, and the current is moving too fast, and I knew if I couldn’t act now, there would be no guarantee that another opportunity would present itself, and suddenly, the watery grave I had chosen for myself last night sounded like the last place I should die.

‘I have to get to my pack, I have to fix everything. I have to figure out who-’

My frantic thoughts stop. There is movement on the shore, and adrenaline shoots through my body. The wolves have found me. Of course they would not have simply let their prey escape them off the side of a cliff.

‘How incredibly inconsiderate of them. Can’t they find someone else to chase?’

But why would they, when their wolf could protect them from such a jump? Or would give them the agility to easily climb down after me if they didn’t want to risk the great height and potentially rocky landing. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last time, I bite back a curse at the misfortune that fills my life.

A second movement has joined the first, their speed matching the currents. Panic and adrenaline sparke life into my useless body, just enough to grab the branch. Its smaller limbs break off and stab into my palms. The wounds hurt, but this pain is nothing compared to what I have been through, and is certainly not enough to make me let go.

I cling to the branch as the figures continue along the shore following the current, moving along the branch and slowly pulling my body free from the water as the movement travels further and further away from me.

My body weight and drenched clothing causes the branch to sag dangerously close to the river below, when suddenly a loud crack echoes from the branch’s joint. I stop immediately and notice the movement downstream is doing the same.

The clothes I am wearing have been washed clean in the river, but still remain in shades of brown and tan, hopefully helping me blend in with my surroundings. I slowly stretch my body out along the branch, laying as flat as I can manage and close my eyes, sending a silent prayer to the Goddess for just one more miracle.

The movement starts again, continuing down the path of the river and away from me. Whatever it is, it took no precautions to hide, disturbing seemingly every tree, bush, and animal in its path, allowing me to track it despite the growing distance between us.

I wait, gauging the space it has traveled…two hundred yards, three, three and a half…when it reaches nearly four hundred yards and the shoreline begins to curve around the mountain on the opposite shore, I begin shimming along the branch again, moving as quickly as possible without disturbing the branch further. Most of my body is still over the water, I cannot risk it breaking further.

Finally, I reach the space above the shore, gripping the branch before swinging my legs down. I land hard on the rocky ground, bruising and scraping one of my knees when my legs fail.

A curse leaves my mouth before I can stop it and I freeze, knowing that my landing alone was enough to draw a werewolf’s attention, but the curse would be a dead giveaway. I strain my ears for any sounds or movements, hoping my human hearing will be enough to warn me.

Nothing but the sounds of the river and forest greet me. A small sigh of relief is all I allow myself before I turn in the opposite direction of the river’s current-

And run face first into a wall of pure muscle and soft leathers.

Arms wrap around me, lifting and restraining me before my exhausted mind and body had fully processed what is happening.

As soon as my feet lift free from the ground, my instincts take over.

My knee pulls up, delivering a vicious strike between his legs. His arms loosen as the breath leaves his body, giving just enough to return me to my feet and free my arms. My palm smashes into his nose, snapping his head back and causing blood to pour from his nostrils.

He catches my second hit in his hand, the force of his grip wrenching my back and re-opening the old and new, scabbed over wounds on my back. He grins down at me, a handsome face interrupted by the blood dripping down from his nose and covering his mouth and teeth.

“Hello Princess. I’ve been looking for you.”

His voice is low and husky, stealing the breath from my lungs and echoing through my body in the space the air had occupied. Visions of skin touching skin, of wandering hands, and deep moans fill my mind.

I hesitate.

The pause is brief, but still more than enough time for him to wrench my arm, forcing my body to turn and pulling my back against his chest, his other arm wrapping around my neck.

My free hand claws at his forearm, and I tuck my chin to protect my neck. Countless hours of drills and bouts run through my mind, hoping to find some move or detail that would help.

‘If I could just break his grip, maybe I could-’

“Calm down, hellcat. You’re safe. Stop fighting me,” he whispers, his warm breath brushing against my neck.

I feel his teeth nip my earlobe and a playful chuckle leave his full lips. The move pulls at the corners of my mouth and my body sinks into his chest purely on instinct.

Furious at this betrayal, a growl builds in my chest and my vision turns red. How dare this stranger touch me like this, and how dare my body like it. This was not the time for dalliances with strangers in the woods. I have to stay focused.

The strength of my reaction seems to surprise him and he lets me twist free from his arms, planting my feet into the fighting stance I have used for nearly twenty years. The words he used in greeting sink in and my blood chills.

While I preferred to be known as the heir to my pack, many on the island of Anastrossi still followed the old ways and called mePrincess. But calling me hellcat?

Hellcats were creatures found in a very specific part of Anastrossi. A part I had been working diligently the past few weeks to avoid….

Night Stalker territory.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you’ve been told. But please….let me go.”

I waited, hoping my voice sounded strong and firm, praying he was simply a rogue wolf with no alliances to the Night Stalkers or Snow Mountain.

Our brief fight had left me sore and winded, the weeks on the run hurting my body to a degree my exhausted mind still could not fully grasp. The adrenaline which had pulled me from the river and kept me standing was failing, my arms shaking as I held my stance and waited for his reply.

His eyes travel up and down my body in a way only a warrior’s could. But there is something else in his stare, something that causes him to linger on my curves, his gaze almost caressing my body. We lock eyes and the grin slowly returns to his face.

My heart sinks.

His smile is wolfish, a cocky predator preparing to play with his next meal. A memory, the voice of my old trainer and Beta of the Night Stalker pack, Arthur, returns to my mind as I weigh the options before me.

“You will find yourself backed into a corner one day. I’m not a fortune teller, I don’t know how or when, so don’t ask me about the particulars. But it will happen.”

He ruffled my hair, a short cut I had insisted on most of my life so I wouldn’t have to worry about the hair getting in my way while I trained.

“Now, when that day comes, it is imperative that you are prepared. Prepared to be hurt, or exhausted. Prepared to face insurmountable odds at your front and back. But most importantly, you must be prepared to think your way out. There is always a solution, you just haven’t seen it yet. And when you are forced to choose, you should always pick the evil you know over the evil you don’t.”

The evil I know is standing in front of me, his stance now effortlessly mirroring mine. I knew that the current state I was in, I had no hope of turning and out running him. I also had no idea what- or who- I would be running towards, as the mysterious movement I had watched as I pulled myself from the river could have heard us and returned.

I wouldn’t be able to make it to the river, and I loathed the idea of subjecting my limbs to its frigid waters again. If I wanted to make it out of here, I needed to disable him first before I had any hope of escape.

“This is your last warning. Step aside and let me go. Now.”

“Oh Princess, why would I do that when you’re who I’m here looking for?”

Suddenly, his smile drops away, a look of genuine concern taking its place.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

His voice breaks at this last sentence, anguished mixing with concern. He steps towards me and I tense, forcing him to stop and hold his hands up in surrender.

“Please, I meant what I said. You’re safe with me. And I swear, we can spend the rest of your life fighting each other, if you just stop fighting me now. Please…I think you’re hurt.”

He points to the ground at my feet and I hesitate. He sounds so sincere, and I am so, so tired. I’m desperate to feel safe…

But desperate people make mistakes.

I take a few steps back, slowly, never taking my eyes off of him. Once there is enough distance between us to react should this be a trick, I quickly glance down.

Blood.

Mine, if the drops following my movement backwards and the pain in my back are to be trusted. The scabs have likely been torn from my skin, the heat of the open wounds mixing with the pain in a traumatic symphony, a faint echo of when I first earned these wounds.

The only piece of music missing is the sound of the whip as it slices through the air and lands-

I shake my head and banish the memory. I could not change that moment, but I can choose how I react to it now. And I would not let what she had done to my body break me.

“I’m fine. Just a scratch. Hardly anything to worry about your pretty head about,” I say, gesturing behind him, “Why don’t you go somewhere else and look for a bandage? I’ll wait right here for you.”

“Fair enough,” he smirks, disbelief heavy in his voice, “but your skin is looking incredibly pale. I’m afraid if I walk away, you’ll pass out. Who knows what horrors of the forest could take advantage of you before I make it back to protect you?”

“I’ve spent most of my life living under a mountain, I assure you my skin is always this pale.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than my body began to shake and my vision began to tunnel. The last thing I see is him rushing forward to catch me, a curse echoing through the wood as my head collides with a hard surface and the world goes dark.