Page 9 of Fat Enemy Mate

There’s the smallest sound but no words. I’m done waiting, though, so I push the door, and the lock gives way almost instantly. These huts were designed to be concealed with magic, not to withstand an assault. The scent of a human female hits me full force once I’m past the last of the ward and rosemary, and my eyes zero in on the small figure on a bunk in front of the stove. It’s still warm but burned down to nothing more than embers. She’s under a blanket and I expect some kind of shock or resistance, but instead she remains completely still. Far too still.

I cross the floor to reach her and crouch down. She’s small and looks incredibly fragile—too fragile to have survived out here in this condition. Her long dark hair is tangled, and there’s blood on the side of her head. I can’t focus too much on her features because of the dirt and injuries, but she looks pale—not really just pale, but white, and her lips are an unnatural shade.

I can barely hear her breathing and press two fingers to the side of her neck, looking for her pulse. Satisfied it’s still there, I shake her shoulder gently.

“Hey,” I whisper, “Hey, can you hear me? I’m not going to hurt you, but we gotta get you out of here.”

Her eyelids flutter but don’t open, and I notice one of her hands twitching slightly. I decide to just go for it and pull the blanket off gently, sliding my arm under her shoulders to lift her slightly before my other hand hoists under her knees, and I lift. She weighs nothing, even less than I was expecting, and I settle her against my chest before turning. I cast an eye around the hut and see that it is completely empty, no obvious food or water, and no sign that she’s eaten. My heart clenches as I realize she probably made it to the hut, only to find it bare. I try not to jostleher head injury any more than necessary as I maneuver us out of the hut and back up onto the slope.

I only make it about three hundred yards before I catch wind of the one thing I don’t need right now: rogues. The scent is fresh and stronger than this morning. They’re still a way off, but the wind is a threat if it shifts. With the patrols coming from all sides, there’s a good chance they’ll get picked off, but I can’t take that risk; they’re probably following this female's faded scent markers, so they’ll close in fast and stand between me and my cabin.

That changes my plan. The pack summer hunting cabin sits two miles in the other direction and deeper into Silvercreek territory. It hasn’t been used since the end of last summer when we wrapped up a training program with a camp out for the recruits, but it’s always left well stocked, has decent security measures, heating, and a medical kit, all things this woman needs. I can let the patrols sweep up the rogues and then call this situation in. Perhaps she has information about the talismans, or the rogues themselves.

I move the woman in my arms again and start northeast at a pace. I can’t shift, but that doesn’t stop me from moving faster than any creature ought to in the dark over uneven ground. Even without the shift, my wolf can help me with strength in my shoulder and balance in my feet, and my eyesight benefits from a partial shift. My wolf is on high alert whilst also being remarkably quiet about the female in my arms.

She’s drifting in and out of consciousness, but at least she’s breathing. I try not to jostle her too much, but at the same time, I know we can’t hang around, and I can’t fight whilst holding an unconscious woman. I think she’s going to open her eyes a few times, but when she finally does, I’m surprised at the bright blue I find there. For a moment, she looks completelyunfocused, and I’m not sure she sees me at all. But then she physically tenses, and I know she’s come to her senses and doesn’t like what she sees.

“P-put me down,” she says firmly but quietly, as if it’s taking all her strength.

“You’re hurt, and I’m getting you somewhere safe,” I say, not even slowing down. “I’m not one of them, and we don’t want them catching up with us.”

"No." She says again, and her hand tightens in my shirt. There’s a look in her eyes that I don’t recognize; it’s not fear, not really—something else. When she speaks again, it’s like a kick to my chest. “Stop.”

My wolf recoils, and I stagger to the side, barely righting myself. My legs aren’t sure what they’re doing, and my left knee nearly gives. I lock my jaw and push through, one foot after another. I close my eyes for a second before opening them and keeping going.

“Stop,” she breathes, more frustration behind the word this time. Again, my wolf feels it, but this time I’m almost expecting it, and I push through it far more easily.

“You can’t…” she trails off as her voice cracks, and I feel the fear radiating off her. She seemed to be counting on me stopping if she told me to, which seems strange, but perhaps she’s just delirious.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, my voice coming out tighter than I intended. “There’s some weird shit out here tonight, but we gotta get to the cabin. We need to keep moving.”

Her gaze holds mine for a moment, and I don’t know what she sees, but something in her face shifts, and she suddenlylooks tired, perhaps defeated. Her head drops back against my chest, her hand still tangled in my shirt. She’s gone again. I can feel her breath against the side of my neck, slow and steady, but the tension in her body has gone. I pick up my pace; her pulse is still thready, and her injuries are bothering me—she’s only human, and they’re damn fragile.

The cabin comes into view as I round the bend; it sits on a low rise in a stand of old trees. It’s far enough off the main lines that you’d have to know it was there to find it. I head to the security box and type in the code protocols and then open the door one-handed, shouldering in as I push inside. I kick the door behind me, and it locks automatically. Stopping at the security panel, I set the wards, cameras, and alarms. No one is getting near without me knowing about it. Even with the lights on, the cabin is set to be shrouded in darkness; our scent is masked, and the wards will disorientate anyone who approaches unless they’re pack. It’s enough, for now anyway.

I lay her on the bed in the closest room, and she doesn’t even stir. I check her pulse again before pulling the thick blanket over her. She needs to get warm, and I need to fire up the heating system. My wolf remains quiet, unnervingly so. It’s as though he’s deliberately lying low since we got knocked back in the forest. I was able to push through whatever it was, but my wolf still seems uncertain. The only thing he seems interested in is her, but he’s not saying anything. It’s just an intense feeling of interest.

I glance at the head wound—it looks fairly fresh, but the worst of the bleeding has stopped. It will need cleaning and dressing, but first this woman needs warmth before he human body completely gives out. I cross to the window and check the line down the slope; there’s no movement, and the darknessis complete. Hopefully, the rogues have been cleared by the patrols, and I can call in reinforcements tomorrow morning.

I glance back at the sleeping woman, realize she’s going nowhere fast, and head out to light the stove. The cabin runs off solar, so it already has enough electricity stored that I can cook; she doesn’t look like she’s eaten in days, so I figure I’ll make something plain for when she wakes up. The cabin heats up impressively fast as I pull out supplies and make coffee. I take some water and place it next to the bed, knowing how much she needs it. Pulling up a chair, I sit across from her with my coffee, watching as she turns slightly and noticing how the color is slowly returning to her skin. All good signs.

The smell of food simmering on the stove drifts through, and for the first time since we got here, I see that it’s starting to call to her and she’s becoming more restless. I watch her carefully, thinking, " Whoare you?There’s something fundamentally strange about her. She smells like a normal human female, but when she told me to stop in the forest, my whole body reacted; my wolf faltered. She did something, but I don’t know what. It wasn’t magic; she’s not a witch. My wolf can spot a witch a mile off. But I can still feel the pressure in my chest from when she tried to push me away. Her touch was as light as a feather, so why can I still feel it?

I rub my face, knowing I’ve been off ever since the lottery. It’s been a long day, and I’m probably imagining things. I’ll soon see anyway because she seems to be sleeping more lightly; she’ll wake up soon, and no doubt be frightened. Only the goddess knows what she’s been through to end up in this condition and be chased down by rogues.

I get up over the next hour and make another coffee. I rest my eyes, I pace for a while and check the wards, but I keep returning to the chair by the bed. I pull out my phone and textConnor for an update on the rogues, but I don’t mention the female. I’m not sure why. I want the update first, I tell myself, and then I’ll tell them. The truth is, I don’t even know if she’s on the right side of this. Maybe she’s connected to the rogues and talismans. Maybe going back for her was wildly bad judgment; I can’t deny I’ve been off my game recently. I’m not bringing her to the pack until I know who or what she is.

That’s what I tell myself as I watch her sleep.

Chapter 6 - Lara

The first thing I feel is warmth.

For a moment, I’m back home in my own bed. The same one I’ve had all my life at the back of the cabin with a small window that overlooks the apple trees. The blanket is the one my mother made before I was even born, and my father stoked the stove before the sun rose, so the whole cabin is lovely and warm. The house is quiet, and all is well.

Then I move my left ankle slightly, and it lights up with the kind of pain I couldn’t possibly feel if all was genuinely well. I also realized I’m wearing my boots in bed; they’re literally under the blanket, something no one would choose to do. The reality comes back to me in bits and pieces: I’m not at home and haven’t been for weeks. And maybe never will be again.

I keep my eyes closed and run through the inventory just like my father taught me. The pain in my ankle has settled again, but I suspect it’s going to be an issue. The pain in my ribs is sharp when I breathe, but I don’t think anything is broken. My head throbs, and I know there’s a wound that needs dressing, but I don’t feel concussed. My mouth is dry, and my head feels thick with dehydration. I have to admit, I’m not in great condition, but I’m not dead, and somewhere between falling asleep in the hut and waking up here, I was sure it was the end.