Hunted by the Alpha King

Thirteen

Willow followed the old man towards the farmhouse. She wasn’t sure if she could place her trust in the stranger, but she didn’t have a choice. Ronan was coming for her. It was only due to Leif’s interference that he wasn’t here already. He would tear apart the shed she was in, and the house. Her only hope was the young witch would be able to hide her like he did the first time. But somehow, she needed to suppress Rana, or else Ronan could call to her.

“Do you have lavender or wolfsbane?” she asked. She didn’t hesitate when he lead her past the front door to the underground cellar. The cellar was hidden by a rustic wood door in the ground. Ronan would be able to break through the door instantaneously. The young wizard shook his head before lifting one of the wooden doors.

“So you don’t want your mate?” he asked as she stalked behind him.

“My wolf doesn’t.”

“Your wolf is separate from you?”

Willow wasn’t sure how much she should share. Witches and wolves were from the same supernatural world, but they tried to keep their species separate. If a wizard knew too much about werewolves, he could launch an attack and vice versa. But she depended on this wizard to get her away from Ronan. She hoped she wouldn’t regret it later.

“Wolves and Humans are separate. We are the host to a wolf, placed in us by the Moon Goddess. Only the strongest humans can be turned into wolves.”

“Is it true if you bite someone that, they will turn into a wolf?”

“Most likely, they will die.”

The wizard’s steps faltered down the last step of the flight they were going down. He flicked his fingers, releasing a spark of fire that sent itself toward the candles lining the walls. The room was small, just large enough for three or four adults. One wall was lined with shelves of containers. The glass containers were filled with an assortment of things needed for spells.

“Do you have wolfsbane?”

“No, only the High Warlock does. Wolves would kill anyone who has it, so only the most guarded carry it.”

“Could you get me some?”

He stopped and looked at her. “Why would you want that?” They both heard a howl outside the door. He quickly stepped over and started to chant while waving his hands. A black film covered the wood door. “Now, when they open the door, it’ll look empty. C’mon, I have an escape route here.”

“Why?”

“My collecting of herbs is not necessarily legal. Plus, it comes in handy when beautiful women need my help to escape.”

Willow’s eyes narrowed. After Ronan, she would not be able to suffer men’s attention easily. Not that she had ever had a man’s attention in the first place. She was raised on the outskirts of a pack and ostracized by everyone, which limited her interactions with people. Her mating with Ronan had been one of her first interactions with someone outside of her parents, and her neck still hurt from it. Giving trust to others would not be an easy task for her.

The farmer just smiled before stepping towards the shelves. He shifted one over to reveal a small hole in the wall, which lead to a tunnel. It was manmade and small, but Willow would be able to fit easily.

“Where does it lead?”

“It leads to a portal on the other side of town. There’s an old witch there who allows safe passage for those in need.”

“Will she let me pass through the portal?”

“I’m not sure but she’s our best chance of getting out of here.”

Before she stepped into the hole, she asked, “Why are you helping me?”

The facade of the old farmer slowly slid off of Vaxon. His blonde hair was long and wavy. Amber eyes glinted in the candlelight. A tall, lean frame stretched the overalls and plaid shirt he had on. He looked young, but it was difficult to tell with any species besides a werewolf. He was quite handsome, more debonair than Ronan. Her mate was a beast of a man while the young wizard took after a prince.

“No mate should be treated the way you were,” he said, while pointing at her neck.

“That’s very typical in a wolf mating. It was only because I ran that I was not healed properly.” Willow smiled. She-wolves were not delicate flowers but it was nice to be viewed with worry. To have someone concern for her well being felt good. Her parents never worried how she was mentally or emotionally, or physically for that matter. They were too focused trying to get her ready to escape. Her parents were often the source for her physical pain, sparring training had turned into beatings on numerous occasions when she was too tired to carry on.

They sacrificied themselves so she could escape. She couldn’t let that sacrifice go to waste.