Alpha's Untamed Mate

Wounded Animals

The sun glittered through the lush green treetops, and its warm light created a glowing illusion as if Luna was walking through a green and golden arch that guided her to the stream. She loved spring when the forest came back to life with birds singing and the fauna growing spectacularly. It always gave her the feeling that everything would be alright, a happy feeling she enjoyed immensely. It helped alleviate some of the guilt and grief that haunted her, at least while the sun was up, painting her world in pretty colors and glowing lights.

Her feet skillfully moved over the damp soil, which had been soaked by the previous night's rain, filling the air with the wonderful scents of life. However, as she approached the stream, another scent grew stronger, one that twisted her gut and triggered her memories. The metallic clang of blood tainted the pleasant smells of spring. Perhaps it was a wounded animal in need of her help; that was the only reason she kept going. It was the sole reason she didn't turn around and run back home to hide. The forest provided for her, and in return, she would aid it whenever and however she could, even if it meant ending the suffering of a poor soul. If the creature was severely wounded, there was no other way. Otherwise, she would nurse it back to health and set it free when it was ready.

In fact, it always broke her heart when they left. She knew that it had to be that way. She understood that she was just a means to an end for the animal, but when they ran off without looking back, something inside of her shattered. Just a tiny piece of what remained of her soul.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned when she finally located the source of the bloody scent. It wasn't an injured animal; it was a man, his arm hanging in the water of the stream as he bled into the ground. The fact that he was completely naked told her that he was a wolf forced to shift back due to his injuries. She wasn't sure what had harmed him or why he was so far from his territory, but she knew he was dying. She had two options: leave him to his fate or help him. She knew what the right thing to do was, but getting involved in any wolf business never ended well for her.

A loud noise above her head pulled her out of her thoughts. It was her Blue Jay, chirping hysterically at her.

"I know," she muttered. "I know what I have to do, but you know, maybe if I waited just a few minutes, it'll be over for him anyway. There's not much I can do for him then, right?"

Angry flapping and more chirping followed. Luna wrapped her little pendant around her fingers before she started to approach the man.

"Fine," she groaned and dropped the vesicles for carrying water to reach the man bleeding next to the stream. He looked like he had been through hell and back, covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. He must have been in some sort of battle, though she didn't know with whom. She was the only wolf out here, and the nearest pack was miles away.

She carefully nudged him, but he didn't move. Maybe he was dead after all. She slipped her fingers along his neck, searching for a pulse. "There you go," she whispered when she finally found it. "You're going to be fine," she told him, as she always did when she found a wounded animal. It was a promise she couldn't make, but each time she fully intended to keep it. It was the thought that counted, right?

A gust of wind tousled her blonde hair just as the stranger opened his eyes and focused on her for a few heart-stopping seconds. It was as if he recognized her, but she had never seen him before. She didn't know this man.

"You," he uttered, the word barely audible, before losing consciousness again. Luna was relieved that he was out cold again; the way he looked at her was unsettling and made her question her choice to help him. Hesitantly, she looked up to search for Blue, but the bird was gone.

"I am going to regret this," she groaned and desperately tried to get this mountain of a man off the ground. She was strong, but not strong enough to carry an unconscious man. "Fine," she snapped, "suit yourself! I'm not a pack-ass. If you die, it's on you!"

She grabbed his arm and started dragging him home. It wasn't ideal, and the occasional groan from the stranger told her that it didn't help with his injuries at all. She muttered an apology, unsure if he could even hear her anymore, but she had no other way to get him to her cottage and take care of his wounds.

Heaving him onto her bed was a whole other story. It was more exhausting than crafting the bed itself. But she finally managed it and brushed the sweat off her forehead before getting a few towels and her herbs to attend to his wounds.

On her first trip to the village, she had brought a book on herbs and taught herself to brew cough syrup when she got sick during the tough winter months. She made little pastes to treat cuts and prevent infections. She had all kinds of ointments, and she used most of them on the stranger. He had a bad gash on the side of his torso. She wasn't sure if he needed stitching, but for now, she would bandage him up tightly and let the herbs work their magic, hoping they would heal him.

Not because she wanted the company. On the contrary, she wanted him up and running so he could go back to his pack and forget about her. Exhausted, she let herself sink to the floor and rested her legs. She needed to get back to the stream to fetch water. She would. In a minute. She just needed to rest for a little bit. With an exhausted sigh, she lay down on the floor, closing her eyes. Just for a moment.

She awoke hours later. The sun was already setting, and her body ached from the uncomfortable position on the floor. It would be dark soon, and she needed to hurry to get water before night fell. She needed it for herself and the stranger. Despite every muscle aching, she got up and went to fetch water, as she had initially planned.

It was getting colder once the sun had set, and she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something bad was about to happen. Maybe whoever attacked the wolf in her cottage was still out to get him. He could follow his trail, leading him right to her home. She would be caught in the crossfire of that battle, one she had nothing to do with. Her only mistake would have been deciding to help a stranger in need.

She sighed softly as she kneeled to fill the containers with water. Her ears twitched when she heard an unfamiliar sound. Something was there that wasn't supposed to be. Within seconds, she was on her feet. No matter how tired she was, she was always ready to run.

When she spotted the wolf emerging from the trees, she turned around and sprinted. She knew that running from a wolf was foolish; it would only trigger his hunting instincts. But maybe, just maybe, he hadn't seen her.

Mid-run, she shifted into a wolf. She would be faster that way, able to get away from him. However, she could sense him hot on her heels. It was a strange sensation that told her exactly where he was, and she knew she wouldn't shake him. So, she changed her tactics and came to a full stop.

She whirled around and snarled fiercely at him. She saw a pair of mahogany eyes widening as he tried to avoid crashing into her. Judging by his size, she could tell that this wolf was no ordinary wolf. He must be an Alpha. But what the hell was he doing out here?

He didn't even hesitate to step closer to her, even though she was snapping at him, warning him to stay away. She heard him sniffing the air, breathing in her scent. It triggered something inside her, something that made her copy his actions, and he smelled like...

Her eyes widened with fear. It was pure and sheer panic that rippled through her body as he backed away from the brown wolf that kept sniffing, inhaling deeply as he recognized her scent as that of his mate. Luna quickly shifted back to her human form and held up both her hands in defense. "No!" she whispered, "this can't be happening!"

"But it is!" When she looked up, she found herself face to face with the man she had just rescued. But that was impossible. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. His hair seemed a little longer, but he looked a hell of a lot like the dying man in her cottage.

He took a step closer, but she backed away from him, raising her hands in defeat, trying to keep him as far away from her as possible. The strange thing was that it took her quite some effort to do so. It was like her body wanted something else entirely.

Her defensive stance didn't make much sense to him. He wasn't going to hurt her. He wanted her. He had been looking for her for a long time, and now that she was here, he expected her to be happy to meet him. He thought that meeting his mate would be more satisfying. But here she was, denying him what he had been desperate to find all his life.