The Feral Mate

Chapter 8: Colt

Chapter 8: Colt

Silver restraints bit my skin as I sulked on the floor of my cell. It was like my thoughts were behind a fog. I needed something dire to happen so that I could focus again. Instead, I wallowed in dull, post-adrenaline confusion.

Eventually, a young woman came by with my clothes, bandages, food, and water. I recognized her scent as the she-wolf Brock had called his mate. Poor Brock. As far as I knew, he was the most injured member of my pack. I glared at her, and she quickly left me to my brooding.

I wondered again why the Goddess had paired them together. The attack on my group had been highly premeditated and organized. Hunting complete strangers was something only rogues did, but our captors didn’t smell like rogues. It was baffling. Sure, Brock’s she-wolf was very pretty, but it took much more than that to be a Beta’s mate. Brock deserved someone compassionate and kind, not bloodthirsty.

That thought seemed to finally jog something loose in my brain. Our assailants weren’t bloodthirsty. Otherwise, we would have all been killed instantly. Instead, the traps were non-lethal, and we were thrown into cells. I glanced again at the supplies Brock’s mate had brought. Perhaps she was compassionate? I cursed myself for not asking her any questions when she was in front of me.

I dressed, and allowed my thoughts to drift towards the subject of my own mate. I wanted to ask Oslo how he felt about her, but thanks to my silver restraints, it was impossible. I couldn’t even figure out how I really felt about her, beyond confusion. Disappointment weighed heavily on my heart. This was not how I'd envisioned meeting my Luna. Hell, I was pretty sure that the terrifying she-wolf would reject me the first chance she got.

Speaking of, her mouthwatering scent had hijacked my senses once again. I sat up straight, and surveyed my surroundings. I saw a glint of red eyes amongst the foliage.

“I know you’re there,” I said, my eyes never leaving hers. She crept forward on all fours like a jungle cat. The same animal skull covered her face, seeming to glow beneath the full moon. Her poncho collected dead leaves as it dragged along the forest floor, and I saw her feet were dirty and bare. She said nothing, and her mask gave nothing away as she stared at me for several moments.

“If you’re here to reject me, it won’t work unless my wolf can hear it,” I said, holding up my shackled hands. Her head tilted slightly.

“What would I reject? Have you offered something?” she asked. After getting over how pretty her voice sounded, I wondered if she was toying with me. All mates felt the effects of their bond, but the strength of the initial connection would often determine how successful the relationship would be. Was our bond so weak that she couldn’t feel it? Or was she messing with me to be cruel?

“I haven’t offered anything. The Goddess bonded our souls, but neither one of us had a say,” I replied, bitterly. If I was going to be rejected, I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“You think we’re mates?!”she growled, her eyes glowing bright red in the darkness.

“We are mates!” I said, exasperated. She must have really felt nothing for me, despite the tremendous reaction Oslo had to her.”Do I not smell good to you?”

“ A pirate's scent can never be trusted. You did something to make yourself not smell like a rogue,”

“I’m not a pirate, I’m the Alpha of the Blood Shore Pack. My name is Colt-”

“I’m not here to talk,” she growled, and threw open the cage. My chains were gripped and I was dragged forward. She got behind me, and I felt her warm hand on the center of my back. “March,” she commanded, giving me a small push. So I did.

My mind was racing again. Scrambling to find a way to get this she-wolf to believe I wasn’t a pirate, and we were mates. After walking for a bit, I saw our destination. Moonlight glimmered against a tranquil lagoon in the heart of the jungle. A waterfall fell against glistening stones, and a few paces away a rope swing swayed amongst dancing fireflies. The air left my lungs for a moment as I took in the majestic sight.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” I said, softly.

“Keep moving,” I felt another push on my back, but this time I spun towards her so that our skin connected.

The feeling wasn’t as overwhelming as the first time we collided, but it was still more intense than anything I had ever felt before. The rest of the world fell away, and it was as if nothing mattered but her. I couldn’t see her face, but the woman wasn’t pulling away. I took this to be a good sign. Warm tingles spread throughout my body, and judging by her silence, my mate felt the same.

“You see? Our bond is strong,” I whispered, taking a cautious step forward. The eyes that met mine were no longer red, but the most gorgeous shade of green I had ever seen. I gently traced my fingers over the arm that was still connected to my bicep. I felt her shiver, and I couldn’t help the wolfish grin that spread across my face. Apparently, that was the wrong reaction. The next thing I felt was a kick to the stomach, and I flew backwards into the water. It wasn’t deep, so I sat up a sputtering, soggy mess.

“What the hell?!” I yelled. I thought I had finally gotten through to her, but we were back to square one. Fighting.

“Wash off whatever is masking your scent,” she growled.

“Nothing is masking my scent!” convincing this girl that she was my mate was turning out to be an impossible task. What kind of life had she lived if she was this paranoid and distrusting? She kicked the lagoon’s surface, splashing water in my face.

“Wash,”

So I did. I made a big show of scrubbing and rinsing myself over and over. After about ten minutes of this, she pulled a knife from somewhere and stepped into the water. I could tell she was scenting the air as she approached. She hauled me to my feet, and some crazy part of me admired how strong she was. She took a large whiff of air, her head tilting once again with confusion. After a few more investigative huffs, she took off her mask with a frustrated growl.

I never would have guessed that such a gruesome skull could conceal the most alluring woman the Goddess had ever crafted. Long platinum hair framed her ethereal face in a messy braid. Lush lips pouted up at me, bewildered, and smooth peachy skin gleamed beneath the full moon. For once, I was relieved that Oslo and I were severed, because he would have me claiming those lips with no regard for the knife she was holding against my throat.

She inched closer, still trying to decipher my scent. I held perfectly still, and tried not to get excited when the coarse material of her poncho grazed my clinging wet t-shirt.

“Bend down,” she said, but it didn’t have any heat behind it like her previous commands. I crouched slightly, and she inhaled deeply against my neck. My shoulders began to shake with the restraint it took not to bury my nose in her hair. I hoped against hope that she would scent me on her own, releasing a growl of pleasure when I felt her soft cheek rub against my scent gland.

She pulled back, probably surprised by my rumbling. I took that as an opportunity to scent her in return. The hand that held the knife had gone limp, and when my stubbled face rubbed her neck I heard the weapon drop into the water with a splash. She gasped, taking a step back. My hands had managed to grip the front of her poncho, but what I really wanted was to hold her against me. Her gaze was puzzled, but the suspicion was gone.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured. I looked intensely into her emerald eyes.

“What is your wolf telling you?”

“She can’t speak,” she looked away, “Never has.”

That was strange, but I could tell she didn’t want to talk in depth about the subject. Besides, there were more important things to discuss.

“Do you believe me now?” I asked, bracing myself for another kick to the stomach. Instead she sighed, and her dazzling eyes returned to mine.

“I believe we are mates,” she started. My heart did a jig in my chest. “But why did you come here on a pirate ship?” It suddenly hit me that arriving in such a deadly warship was probably not the best first impression. The revelation lifted a tremendous weight from my chest and I was quick to explain.

“I took that ship from a rogue pirate captain during the war. My pack is using it to explore the new territory we’ve won.”

“What war?” she questioned, and I scrutinized her for a moment.

“The one that’s been going on for the past two years?” I replied, perplexed. I saw no recognition in her face, and I dreaded the answer to my next question. “How long have you been on this island?” She paled and looked away again.

“A long long time,”

“How long?”

“Twelve years,” she whispered. She sounded as if she might cry. When the implications struck me, I wanted to cry for her. Twelve years? A million more questions flooded my mind, but a tug on my chains shook me from my thoughts. “Let’s go check on your friend,” she said, not looking at me.

I stumbled after her out of the water. This time she led me through the mangled undergrowth with a grace and swiftness that I suspected came from living in the wild for twelve years. We came upon Brock’s cell, and I realized I had forgotten to ask a very important question.

“What is your name?”

She stopped fiddling with the lock on the cage to look at me, and I marveled again at how beautiful she was. Then I heard a voice from behind us say a name that sent chills erupting across my body.

“Amelia?”