Fangs and fates

Chapter4

The morning sun streams through the windows, but it does nothing to warm the chill that has settled in my bones. Four days have passed since my confrontation with Ethan, and the silence is becoming unbearable.

A knock echoes through the room. Different from the servants' timid taps, this one holds authority.

"Come in," I call, my voice rough from being quiet.

The door opens, and Ethan enters, his presence immediately dominating the space. My wolf, Eda, stirs inside me, whimpering at his proximity. The reaction makes me clench my fists – I refuse to submit, even if part of me yearns to. Eda must have grown nuts to have accepted this man in a few days. Or maybe it was the hormones. s**t! I've got to get laid. By whom?

"You need to eat," he says, his voice deceptively soft as he approaches, carrying a tray of food himself this time. The sight of him doing a servant's task throws me off balance.

"I'm not hungry," I lie, even as my stomach clenches at the smell of fresh bread and eggs.

He sets the tray down and moves closer. "Your stubbornness serves no purpose except to weaken yourself."

"My stubbornness is all I have left," I shoot back, but my voice wavers as he draws nearer.

His hand reaches out, fingers grazing my cheek. The touch sends electricity coursing through my body, and I have to fight not to lean into it. "You have so much more than that, Mia," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a tone that makes Eda whine. "You just don't know it yet."

I jerk away, but my back hits the wall. He follows, caging me in with his arms on either side of my head. His scent – pine, rain, and something uniquely him – overwhelms my senses.

"What do you want from me?" I whisper, hating how breathless I sound.

His blue eyes darken as they search my face before looking me straight in the eye. "Everything," he says simply. His thumb traces my bottom lip, and my breath hitches, itching to suck on his thumb. Where did that come from? "But for now, I'll settle for you eating breakfast."

The casual dominance in his tone makes me defensive, even as heat pools in my stomach. I turn my face away. "And if I refuse?"

His other hand slides to my waist, the touch burning through the thin fabric of my shirt. Geez, what exactly was this man trying to do? "Then I'll have to convince you," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "And trust me, dear wolf, I can be very persuasive."

My heart thunders in my chest. Eda is practically purring at his proximity, but my human side rebels against the control he so effortlessly exerts. I place my hands on his chest, meaning to push him away, but the feel of his solid warmth under my palms makes me falter.

His lips curve into a knowing smirk. "Feel that?" he murmurs, leaning closer until his breath fans across my neck. "That's the mate bond. You can fight it all you want, but it knows the truth."

"I don't care about the bond," I manage to say, even as my body betrays me by arching slightly into his touch.

"No?" His nose skims along my jaw, and my knees nearly buckle. "Your body says otherwise."

With tremendous effort, I shove him back. "Stop it! You can't just... just touch me like that and expect me to submit!"

Instead of anger, something like approval flashes in his eyes. "Good," he says, surprising me. "Keep that fire. You'll need it."

Confusion replaces my anger. "What are you talking about?"

He steps back, his expression becoming guarded. "Your powers are dormant, but they're there. And we need to wake them up before it's too late."

"Hold on. Powers?" I scoff, anger rising fresh in my chest. "What are you talking about?"

His jaw tightens. "Your bloodline carries something special – a genetic mutation that allows certain wolves to heal others. My pack... we need that ability."

The intensity in his voice makes me pause, then laugh bitterly. "Are you kidding me? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"This isn't a joke," he growls, frustration evident in his voice. "My wolves are dying. A disease is spreading through the pack, and nothing we've tried has worked. But you could save them."

Rage explodes in my chest. "So that's what this is about? You kidnap me, lock me up, force this mate bond nonsense on me – all because you think I have some magical healing powers?"

"The mate bond is real," he snaps, his eyes flashing gold. "That has nothing to do with—"

"Shut up!" I scream, shoving him back again. "Just shut up! I don't have any powers. I'm not special. I'm just a weak wolf who couldn't even defend herself in training, remember? That's what everyone at the haven always said."

"They were wrong," he insists, reaching for me again.

I dodge his touch. "No, you're wrong. You're so desperate to save your pack that you've convinced yourself of this... this fantasy. Well, guess what? I'm not your salvation. I'm not your mate. And I'm definitely not some mythical healer!"

"Mia—"

"Get out!" I grab the nearest object – a decorative vase – and hurl it at him. He dodges easily, but I'm already reaching for something else. "Get out! Get out! GET OUT!"

For once, he listens. But at the door, he pauses. "You can deny it all you want," he says quietly. "But deep down, you know I'm right. Why do you think they kept you hidden in that haven all these years?"

The door closes behind him before I can respond. I sink to the floor, tears burning in my eyes.

How dare he? How dare he make up these lies about me having special powers? I'm nothing special. I've never been special. That's why Alex left, why the other wolves at the haven always looked down on me, why...

A memory surfaces. A small cut on Clara's arm, my hand over it, a warm sensation...

No. I push the memory away. It's nothing. It has to be nothing. She was a wolf and it was common between wolves to heal themselves.

Because if Ethan is right... if I really do have these powers...

No. I won't let him manipulate me with false hope and fairy tales. I won't let him use me for his own agenda.

I drag myself to my feet and walk to the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. Beyond the carefully groomed gardens, the forest beckons. Somewhere out there is freedom. I had wanted so much to be out of the haven. The universe has a twisted way of giving me answers. Somewhere out there, I can just be me – not a mate, not a healer, just Mia.

I close my eyes and make a silent promise to myself: I will get out of here. And when I do, I'll prove to everyone – especially Ethan – that they're wrong about me.

I'm not special.

I'm not a healer.

I'm just me.

And that has to be enough.

****

The screams wake me from a much needed sleep.

I bolt upright in bed, heart hammering as the sound echoes through the mansion. Before I can process what's happening, my door flies open, and Ethan comes in quick strides in a grim expression.

"Come with me," he commands, already striding toward me.

I press myself against the headboard. "No. Whatever it is, find someone else."

Another scream pierces the air, this one more desperate than the last. Despite my plan to stay put and not let anyone get to me, I flinch at the raw pain in the sound.

"There is no one else," Ethan says, his voice tight with something I don't want to identify as desperation. "One of our youngest was attacked. She's dying."

I peek past him into the hallway – still strange to me after only four days here. "Then get your pack healer. Isn't that their job?" I say in the most bored tone that I can muster.

"The poison is spreading too fast. Our healers can't stop it." He runs a hand through his hair, and for the first time, I notice the blood on his shirt.

"And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?" My voice rises with hysteria. "I'm not a healer. I'm nothing special. We've been through this!"

He moves faster than I can track, suddenly towering over me. "Then explain to me why injuries heal faster around you. Why some of my wolves have already noticed their wounds closing quicker when you pass by."

"Coincidence," I snap, but the word tastes like ash in my mouth. "Or your imagination. Or maybe you're all just so desperate to believe in fairy tales that—"

Another scream cuts through my denial, followed by broken sobbing. Something inside me twists painfully.

"Please," Ethan says softly, and the single word undoes me more than any command could. "Just come see her. If I'm wrong, if nothing happens, I'll never bring it up again."

I want to refuse. I should refuse. But the girl's cries are burrowing under my skin, making it impossible to stay still. With jerky movements, I swing my legs over the side of the bed.

"Fine. But only to prove you wrong."