Mya: Night Chaser

I'll Kill You: Patrick

Throughout the year, Patrick slowly felt better. Every day he was able to stay awake longer, keep food down, and not have muscle cramps that brought him to his knees.

"She must be doing well," Brody muttered when Patrick made it through a movie on Friday night without passing out like normal.

"Yeah," Patrick smiled a bit. Then his smile faded, "Or maybe the bond is broken."

"I don't think so," Brody shook his head. "I think you would've heard something. Or felt something. I don't think you would feel better. I think you'd feel worse."

"You think?" Patrick couldn't keep the hope out of his words.

"Absolutely," Brody shoved a chip in his mouth and crunched. "If Mya were dead, you'd know. You didn't reject her and she didn't reject you before she left. You still have the bond even if you tried to mess with it. If she were dead, you'd know. She's probably working out with a bunch of meatheads who can benchpress my truck."

Patrick couldn't help the low growl that came from his throat.

"What?" Brody's eyebrows rose as he looked at his friend. "You honestly never thought about it?"

"Not until now," Patrick snapped.

Brody exasperatedly asked, "Seriously?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but the past year has been filled with me trying to stay alive and worried about my mate. I didn't have time to think about the wolves she's training with," Patrick informed his best friend.

"Yeah, well," Brody shrugged as he grabbed his drink. "Her team's been in a year. They're probably jacked. Huge. I heard the Night Hunters were enormous after a month or two. I can't imagine what they'd look like after twelve."

"Thanks," Patrick snorted as he leaned back. "Just what I wanted to hear. My mate is hanging around good-looking guys twenty-four-seven the past year and hasn't once written me a letter, called, or informed me in any way if she's even alive."

"Well, I mean, she's lasted a year. She's probably too busy working out and, I don't know, trying to stay alive than writing you a letter," Brody tried to reassure Patrick. "I mean, from what I've heard it only gets harder the longer you're in. A year is really impressive."

"Yeah," Patrick nodded and this time he didn't try to hide his smile. "Who knew the little rabbit had it in her?"

"Rabbit?" Brody asked before taking a drink.

"Rabbit. Whenever I saw her, she was always running somewhere. Looked like the rabbit in Alice and Wonderland. You know the one. 'I'm late. I'm late. I'm late for a very important date'. That guy."

Brody looked at Patrick like he'd lost his mind, "Your mate is going to be a Night Hunter and you have the gall to call her a rabbit?"

"Yeah. Well," Patrick began thumping his thumb on the arm of the couch. "I don't have much to go on. You know? I never really talked to her. The only things I know about her come from what I saw and her family."

"Speaking of her family," Brody sat back and put his drink down. "You heard anything from Natalie?"

Patrick shook his head, "Evidently having a sister who's a Night Hunter is more important than having a Beta for a husband. She's so focused on bragging about Mya making it a year she's left me alone. Said her parents are trying to contact the Council to get information on their daughter. Suddenly they're very worried about their youngest child and need to know if she's okay."

"That's some f****d up s**t," Brody leaned back.

"Yeah," Patrick nodded. "What's even more f****d up was I bought into their s**t for so long. Denied my mate and everything for them."

"My father played a large part in that," Brody tried to assuage Patrick's guilt.

"Yeah, but I was the one who did it," Patrick shook his head. "It's so messed up. I knew I was doing wrong when I was doing it but all I could think about was being a Beta and the good of the Pack. Now she's gone and I," he took a deep breath. "I've been writing to her but never hear anything."

"Well, she hasn't sent them back," Brody crunched on another chip. "Maybe she's reading them. Maybe she doesn't have a way of communicating with you. But at least she's getting them."

"I don't know," Patrick rubbed a hand over his face. "She could be throwing them," he wasn't able to finish the thought when his phone alerted him to a text message.

He looked at the screen and saw his mom had sent, "Come home. 9-1-1."

"I gotta go," Patrick sighed. He held up his phone, "It's my mom."

Brody nodded, "You want me to come with you?"

Patrick shook his head, "It's probably something stupid."

"Cool. Let me know what's up," Brody leaned back and clicked on the remote.

Patrick looked at him with surprise, "You know most princes would be partying right now with a bunch of she-wolves hanging off his arms."

"And most princes have to get tested for STDs every Monday," Brody shrugged. "I'm good. My mate will come eventually. Until then," he nodded at the screen. "There's always Padme."

"Whatever, man," Patrick got up and gave a small bow. "Tomorrow night?"

"Same time. Same couch. Same remote," Brody looked up at him. "You know, you could always go to a party or two. You're almost as popular as I am with a Night Hunter as a mate."

Patrick rolled his eyes, "Until people remember that I shunned Mya for her sister. That's always a sudden realization when I walk into the room. They know who I am but they don't know who I am until they see me."

"Rough," Brody leaned back and clicked the play button. 

Patrick shrugged, "It's fine. I don't really want to party anyway. After last year," he shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

His phone pinged again and he looked at his mother's message, "HOME. NOW."

He stuck his phone in his pocket, gave another slight bow, and then left the Pack House. He never took his car to the Pack House. If they left, they took Brody's SUV. Instead, he ran the quick path from the Pack Hose to the Beta House.

"Mom?" Patrick opened the front door. "What's going on?"

He watched his mother run to the front door with an envelope in her hand. 

"You have a letter," she breathlessly announced as she smacked it to his chest. "You have a letter!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. 

Patrick inhaled deeply and was immediately disappointed. It smelled like spices, suede, and sage. Masculine.

"It's not her," Patrick's heart dropped as he checked the return address. Hope blossomed as he realized it was the same address he'd been writing to Mya.

"Open it," his mother stressed. "I have a good feeling."

Patrick tore open the envelope as if it were his lifeline.

"Well?" his mother was rocking back and forth on her feet.

"Dear dickhead," Patrick read the hard scribble on the page. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for Mya. Don't f**k it up like you do everything else. Call," Patrick rattled off a number. "Signed, Mya's teammate and the wolf who will hunt you down and dismember you one limb at a time if you make me regret this."

"Whoa," Patrick's mother peered at the letter. "He sounds," she paused and said, "Interesting."

Patrick was already getting his cell phone out of his back pocket. Immediately, he dialed the number.

"Hello?" a female voice answered after the second ring.

"Hello? I um," Patrick pulled the letter to his chest. "I got this number from a teammate of Mya's."

"Oh. Wow. You got that already?" the girl sounded amazed. "Marcus wasn't lying when he said he sent it. Huh?"

"Marcus?" Patrick turned his back on his mother and began walking up the stairs to his room.

"Marcus. My mate," the female said and began babbling. "I'm Breann. Trent is his best friend and the other teammate. They got sent to the Night Hunters together by our Alpha. Kayla is Trent's mate. And well, you are Mya's mate. Patrick. Right?"

Patrick sat on his bed in a slump. "Mya talked about me?"

"Well. Kind of. Their first night. She told Marcus and Trent about you," Kayla sounded guarded. "And they told us a couple of things but not everything. Just that you two are estranged and," she let out a breath. "No offense or anything, but Trent, Kayla, and I all think this is a really bad idea. If Mya finds out Marcus contacted you," her voice petered out to nothing.

"She'll be pissed," Patrick surmised.

"Well. Yeah. Look, I don't know what you did but it has to be pretty bad. And, I mean, I saw Mya. She's gorgeous. And she sounds completely cool. Like not in a trying hard to be cool way but in a way that she just plain is cool," she sighed. "And from what Trent and Marcus told us it has to be pretty awful for her to just drop you and your Pack as she did."

Patrick's mind was whirling but he focused on one thing at a time, "You have a picture of her?"

"Uh. Yeah. You know, Trent snuck a picture off the computer he was working on and kind of sent it to Kayla who sent it to me," Breann sounded embarrassed. "We were curious. You know? We only get five-minute conversations every day except when Mya let the guys use her code for the phones. And we did hear about her all the time. So Kayla convinced Trent to get a picture since he's kind of a genius when it comes to computers. Marcus only did it because I pretty much begged him to. And Mya did it because she thought it was hilarious Trent is so whipped he was risking a week of punishment over a picture and the whole all for one, one for all thing."

"Can you send it to me?" Patrick pleaded.

"I mean, I guess so," Breann stammered. 

"Now?" Patrick pressed. "Can you send it now?"

"Um. Sure," Patrick heard clicking on the other end of the phone. "What's your email address?"

Patrick gave it to her and immediately sat at his desk. He opened his laptop and logged into his email.

"I sent it," Breann announced. Patrick incessantly refreshed his screen while he heard Breann say something muffled.

"Sorry, Patrick. I have to go. But you have my number and I have yours. I'll update you if I hear anything about Mya. Even though I think this is," she took a breath. "Well. You know."

"Thank you," Patrick was sober. "Seriously. I mean it. Thank you."

Finally, it showed he had a message. With a shaking hand, he clicked on the message and downloaded the image.

"Kay. Bye," Breann hung up the phone.

Patrick didn't answer. Instead, he stared at the image on his screen as his heart sped up.

Mya was beautiful. Stunning. Patrick's eyes roamed over her face taking in every minute detail. The way her mouth was tilted up slightly on the edges as if she was in on some private joke. She wasn't smiling exactly. Smirking. Laughing internally. Her eyes were now green. A green that reminded him of the grass in springtime. Her cheekbones were much fuller yet sharper. The way her hair was shinier and pulled back in a tight bun. The way the top part of her white t-shirt showed that she'd filled out enormously in the past year. Even though she looked relaxed her muscles were plain to see as she leaned on the right side of the image. 

She looked happy. For the first time in his life, he got to see Mya looking happy. And it made his heart hammer in his chest.

It was painful not to look at her but curiosity got the best of Patrick. His eyes reluctantly went from Mya to the other men in the picture. They both were clean-shaven and had close-cropped hair but that was where the similarities ended. One was a black man with dark eyes and black hair and muscles clearly defined on every inch of his body. That man scowled and it was instantly obvious to Patrick that was the wolf who sent the letter. Marcus. The other was a pale redhead, long and lean, with a facial expression that he thought was hilarious they were taking a picture. He even had a big, goofy grin on his face even though he looked like he could rip the head off anyone who breathed in his direction wrong. Trent.

Patrick studied the picture some more and looked at their stances. Mya was to the right. It was as if she had heard they were taking a picture and immediately wanted in. Trent was in the middle obviously, the one making the picture happen. Brody was to the left. But both men were angled toward Mya. As if they were used to protecting her. Either man looked like they'd rip the head off anyone who hurt their teammate. 

Patrick got out his cell phone and downloaded Mya's picture on it. He then made the image of his background and sleep screen on his computer. He typed a quick message thanking Breann again for the picture and begging her to keep him up to date on how Mya was.

He put on his pajamas and got into bed. He got his cell phone out and looked at the image again knowing he'd never get sick of looking at her. Every time the image dimmed, he used his thumb to light the screen.

"Stay safe," Patrick ordered the phone. He looked at the men briefly saying, "Take care of her or I'll kill you."