Mated to the Enemy

Chapter 10

— Danny —

Rushing through the forest, I knew I didn't have much of a head start to escape from Holden, and I was nowhere near as fast as a werewolf. My best bet would be to hide, and pray that he still thought I was one of them and be searching for a wolf. Pressing my back to a tree, I huffed and clutched my chest unconvinced anyone was searching for my non-existent wolf form.

Not after what Jet said.

I reached for my ears, grimacing as my fingers glided over pointed tips. Shaking my hair, I pulled at the strands to cover the fear that the dad who abandoned my mom and me was... fae.

How could mom’s fated mate be fae?

It made sense now why he was such a d**k and rejected her, while abandoning his daughter. He probably succumbed to the mate bond, then thought more about his mate being a werewolf and looked down his nose at her, at us… at what we were.

As I leaned against the tree I heard the howls of the pack gathering to search for me. If any of them found me, I’d be dead. No wolf would leave a fae alive.

Being quiet and smelling like trees and dirt had its advantages. This was possibly the first time I appreciated that fact. Rustling crunched the leaves and twigs close by. I stilled. Heart pounding, that would be a dead giveaway if they were paying close enough attention.

With a growl a heavy thunk shook the branches above me. I bit my lip and held my breath. The metallic scent of blood wrinkled my nose, but an ache filled the gums above my canines. Whoever it was…was bleeding. Slowly I lifted my hand to clamped over my mouth. I never had a problem being silent. Even my steps through the forest, before I shifted were quieter than any werewolf I knew. Mom would frequently have panic attacks when I was a child hiding under the kitchen table, or behind her clothes in the closet.

Another man stepped through crisp, dry foliage getting the injured one’s attention on the other side of my tree. He tried to convince him to leave with him and then he spoke, making my breath catch.

“I can’t leave,” Jet’s voice was strained as he resisted his friend’s attempts to help him flee the Blood Crest’s territory. I wanted to come out and help them as I knew this forest quite well from growing up here, but being what I was, and seeing the way his whole body went ridged when I shifted. Well, it just didn’t seem like a good idea.

“Mate…” The word sent shivers down my spine, and I nearly exposed myself went my fangs cut my lip from the shock of what he was saying.

“You found her?”

Earlier I would have thought they were talking about me. If I had overheard this conversation before I shifted, when he was acting all possessive even pumped full of wolfsbane. He was strong. Anyone who had the amount they shot him up with would not have recovered so quickly, and then be brazen enough to go claw-to-claw with the future alpha of this pack. Why did he do that? He could have escaped while I was distracting Holden.

I pulled back my hand and stared in fear of myself as my finger nails lengthened to sharp points. They were black, and didn’t resemble anything like a wolf’s claw. And what made things worse was they only sprang out when hearing Jet talk about someone else being his mate. I couldn’t stay here and listen to them anymore.

Quickly, I padded away from them on silent feet. It didn’t matter that with every step leaves crumbled, and mulch lifted as I pushed off the dirt. I now realized why I had always be better at stealth… all fae could sneak up without a sound. It’s what made them so dangerous. Even the fae with no magical skill could glide as if they were spirits.

My fangs can tear through even the toughest wolf’s hide. My nails are perfectly designed to cut throats, or tear out the hearts of my enemies… and for a fae… werewolf hearts are a delicacy they feasted on, and the magic in their blood is a desert wine they drink at parties.

I was a monster, everything about the fae is designed to kill.

I was as good as dead if discovered like this, but no matter what I did nothing made the ears go back to the way they were. And my fear, and anger weren’t helping matters.

Collapsing to the ground I buried my face in my hands and tucked my knees up to my chest.

Where was I supposed to go?

I couldn’t go into town, not like this.

If I couldn’t find a way to hide my ears, then I’d have the Lycan King after my ass, as well as the rest of the supernatural community for revealing myself to humans. I shivered listening to the howls in the night from the patrol likely searching for me as I sat here relying on the magic of my forest scent, and soundless movements to protect me while I wallowed.

Then the heavy footed approach came swiftly before me. Those deep midnight eyes glaring at me as he huffed in air appearing ready to charge me. His claws were out, and alpha aura radiated off of him in waves that reached out in savage lashes. I gulped, realizing even that ability to sense that was probably also inherited from my fae father.

“Don’t run,” he bit out, restraining himself from destroying me right then. That was a good sign at least that he was keeping his distance, and giving me a chance to explain myself. Anyone else would probably have already attacked me while I was prone in my own self pity.

“Please don’t kill me, I didn’t know,” I begged. We were both rogues, in a way. And we both needed to get out of here.

Jet took a step forward, and I flinched. I closed my eyes waiting for him to end things swiftly, but nothing came.

His deep voice interrupted my thoughts, “We can’t stay here…”

Squinting I opened my eyes again, and saw he was merely offering his hand. All of his wolf had retreated, and I narrowed my eyes at the blood dripping down his elbow from a gash on his arm and shoulder. Holden had got him.

Before I could even accept his offer he collapsed to one knee, but he still insisted with his hand outstretched to me. Luckily he was wearing a pair of basketball shorts so I didn’t have to be distracted with his naked body when I rushed to help him before he passed out.

Touching his sweating skin, his forehead was hot. Too hot, even for a wolf. I may not have been a doctor, but I knew infection when I saw it. I figured with how strong he was, and him being able to walk, and fight, and well be awake at all that he had burned off the poison already. I was wrong. He would die at this rate.

“He’s burning up. You can come out now, as long as you aren’t going to kill me,” I called out to the other werewolf that was obviously hiding in the bushes.

Jet needed to get out of this forest before he got caught by the Blood Crests. He was in no condition to duel anyone, and they could care less if a rogue died before he could be sentenced. The man that came out was plastered with mud, and hefted an arm over his shoulder. We quickly realized this was not quick enough to help anyone. We would all get caught at this rate, especially with him bleeding. If the patrols get a whiff of his blood they will be on us in no time.

“I can walk,” Jet insisted, ever the alpha.

I glared at him, and his friend had the same idea because we both gritted out as sternly, but under our breath to be quiet, “No, you can’t.” His friend was a little less quiet than I would have cared for, but he quickly shifted into his large wolf to carry Jet on his back.

Once he was secured, I grabbed some moss from the tree, and climbed behind him to hold him on so he wouldn’t fall when he was out cold, which didn’t take long.

“Go left for a bit,” I instructed, and thankfully the wolf listened because it wasn’t like I could understand him if he refused since I couldn’t mind-link.

Once we went the opposite direction of our intended destination out of the forest I packed the moss into Jet’s wound, and then asked for the wolf to stop so we could reapply some mud in the patches his fur got blood on it.

My ears itched, and didn’t take that as a good sign.

“We need to hurry,” I climbed back on, and the wolf grunted, but soldiered forward.

As we traveled the wolf chuffed through his nose like he was complaining, or wanting to say something, but frustrated because we couldn’t talk at the moment.

I whispered to him, “There’s a stream up ahead. We’ll need to go in, wade down stream, and exit out without crossing to the other side. You’ll have to shift again.”

He snorted his understanding, but that didn’t mean he was going to follow my advise.

When we reached the stream he jumped over… farther than I would have expected with two people on his back, since Jet was exceptionally big for a normal rider. We splashed into the water, and I gasped.

“Are you trying to bring attention to us? What part of wade in, did you not understand?” I sputtered from the water entering my mouth. Grabbing Jet, I basically head locked him to keep him above the surface instead of sinking like a rock. To my gratitude, his friend helped buoy by grabbing an arm. The chill of the freezing water had my teeth chattering, and I swore.

“f**k, this must be what those ice plunges at spas feel like,” the stupid, now slightly cleaner rogue said with a smile that seemed out of place considering the circumstances.

“My idea was to just get our feet wet by walking down stream, not cause hypothermia by submerging ourselves,” I chattered through my teeth.

“Guess you aren’t one of the fae that lives in the cold then, probably some sort of summer fae or something,” he spoke about me being fae as if it were just an ordinary thing to talk about. I stared at him through the moonlight struggling to keep Jet afloat. Instead of answering him I commented on a more pressing issue.

“How is he still out right now?”

“Probably because of you,” the guy suggested nonchalantly.

Of course he would blame the fae for why a werewolf is unconscious even with a shocking bath into freezing water. For all I knew he was right.

“I’m Ralph by the way, expert cook, excellent skinny dipping companion, and beta to this knuckle head.”

“How are you not more concerned?”

His flippancy was driving me mad.

We finally dragged Jet out of the water, and propped him up against a tree.

I rubbed my arms to stave off the chill, but found the heat coming from Jet was more sufficient at warming my hands so I pretended that I needed to hold him up, when he would have been fine if I let go.

Ralph caught my gaze, and there was a seriousness there when he finally replied, “I am concerned, but that isn’t going to help us right now. I’ve never seen him like this.”

I wiped water from Jet’s face, and a whimper escaped his lips as he leaned towards me. I grabbed more moss from the tree trunk and replaced the parts that got washed away to help clot his wound. The moss that grew in this forest was actually an anti-fungal, and would help until his wolf healing kicked in again. It was called Old Man’s Beard, which I remembered my mom used often when we used to live up here in the mountains for every scratch I got as a kid.

Jet growled as I pushed the moss into his wound, his reaction to anything, even if he was still unconscious, was the best I could hope for.

Ralph stilled and signaled for me to remain silent.

He pointed in the direction we came from up the river.

I could hear it too…

The patrol.