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CHAPTER 13
MIA
I couldn’t help but smile as I thought of the look on Gunnar’s face. The way he’d stood there at the edge of the cliff, his pale face absolutely mortified. It was a first for me; my big hero, showing fear. He was The Tank to everyone else, but I knew who he really was.
Pressing fingertips to my lips, I took a second, reliving the moment. It was priceless. I never knew he feared heights so much. Sure, he’d mentioned it before, but only briefly. I guess I underestimated the depths of his fears.
Shadow Creek was located on a flat stretch of land, far from any beaches or shores. There were no mountains or steep drops. Just grasslands, boulders and a chunk of forest covering the south-eastern corner of the territory. Gunnar had been raised in Shadow Creek and rarely left pack borders. Thus, his experience with various terrains was quite limited, the very reason why I’d jumped at this opportunity of showing Gunnar ‘The Gorge’. The magnificent ancient crack in the earth stretched for miles. It was sacred to my home pack, Grimlark, where my parents still lived, two provinces northeast of Shadow Creek.
Although we’ve been mated for almost two years, Gunnar and I didn’t have many opportunities to visit my parents. Being Alpha Raiden’s Beta meant he was permanently on duty; always available to pack members, never to family. At least not mine, since they had stayed behind in Grimlark.
It was my father’s sixtieth birthday two days ago and Raiden had given us permission to attend the festivities and thereafter visit for a week. We were staying with them, so naturally alone time with my husband was scarce. This hike up Grimlark ridge, however, served as the perfect excuse to get away, not to mention sharing one of my favourite places with the love of my life. The Gorge had played such a significant role in my upbringing, I needed to share it with Gunnar. I hadn’t minded sneaking out of bed long before sunrise to prepare our meals. Gunnar loved my cooking, which I adored him for. Being a chef meant that I was used to getting up early. Any ideas of lazy mornings had been beaten out of us during the first month of culinary school. Feeding hungry wolves before their morning workout only fuelled the fire. It called for dedication and hard work. A smile formed on my lips as I wondered what the pack would be eating this afternoon, left in the hands of my sous chef, Pig.
Pig Briskley was a lively man with a round face and a greying beard. He had never gotten married and lingered in the kitchen all hours of the day. It was his home. I didn’t mind, he was loyal and a hard worker. It felt nice to have him there, almost like an older brother, watching over me when Gunnar was with Ray.
Pulling the basket I had prepared for us off a branch, I inspected its contents, making sure it hadn’t been tampered with. Everything was perfect, so I made my way back, closing the lid once again and securing it with a wooden pin. Gunnar loved my hand-made chocolate croissants and today I’d paired it with all the other odd things he liked. Various cuts of cheeses, a selection of ham, olives and a bottle of wine I had selected from Raiden’s personal stash. Ham. Probably the sole thing Gunnar couldn’t live without. He ate them rolled up, plain, just like that. Not on bread or with anything exotic. Just rolled up. It was incredibly frustrating as a chef to prepare him beautiful and tasty snacks when all he wanted was thinly sliced ham he could eat like a crêpe.
Before stepping over the rocks that would lead me into the clearing, my eyes drifted towards him out of habit. Gunnar’s posture was unusually stiff and upright, unlike his hunched form from earlier. I stopped. In front of him stood a young woman, staring at him.
Something wasn’t right. Her stance, still as a corpse and icy cold, seemed unnatural. Gunnar had his hand stretched out towards her and a tinge of jealousy zapped through me. Who was this woman and what on earth was she doing out here all by herself? Reluctant to give away my position and possibly ruin their strange encounter, I remained hidden in the lush greenery, watching as the scene unfolded. No scent lingered around her. The hackles on the back of my neck rose.
She moved, flowing closer to my mate as though she was gliding on air. Her strides were smooth and meticulous. From this new angle, I could see her face and… My mouth dried. Her eyes were dull and stark white. There was no iris, no pupil.
Dirty blonde hair hung in knotted clusters down the sides of her face and over bare shoulders. Her dress was nothing more than rags. Worn and yellowed with age. Torn, with parts of her skin showing through holes in the fabric. She looked like she’d risen from the dead; a ghost.
Gunnar - my mate - he was too close. What the hell was he doing? I opened my mouth to call out to him, but no words came out and the woman moved again. From where I stood, I saw claws elongating. Not Gunnar’s.
My heart screamed in protest, as I dropped the basket and propelled myself forward, shooting out of the forest. At the same time, she struck, lunging herself at my mate with the intent to harm. She caught him off guard and dug her claws deep into his face and abdomen, slicing effortlessly through skin and flesh.
My chest cracked as red sprayed. I flung myself onto her back, arms wrapping around her neck, squeezing. A gurgle came from her mouth. I peered over her shoulder, spotting her fingers still buried in my mate, his bloodied hands gripping her wrists. Why wasn’t he fighting back? Confused, terrified, I jerked my body backwards with all my strength, throwing my full weight into the pull. I managed to throw her off balance and we crashed to the floor. Tiny rocks and dirt dug into my back. Her body landed on mine where I still held her in a tight grip around the neck. Before us, Gunnar fell to his knees, bloodied hands going to the wound in his gut. No, no, no. I couldn’t lose him.
Fury, wild and destructive burst through me. She’d hurt my mate. My eyes found him, but he was staring at the bitch above me. Blood poured down his face, streaming from a gash where skin flapped open. I shook. Whether it was from adrenaline or pure rage, I had no idea, but my arms detached from her neck. Fingers clawing at what remained of her dress and dirty hair, I gripped her tight. Above me, she struggled to turn around while I wrestled to keep my grip on her. When she finally managed to turn, coming face to face with me, those horrid eyes snapped towards mine. I was wrong earlier when I thought she was staring at Gunnar. No. This being, whatever the hell she was, stared straight into you - through you.
Goosebumps crawled up my spine and I thought I heard a whisper just as Gunnar sunk his hands into her hair, tugging her off of me. But as soon as he did, he slammed his eyes shut, rubbing at them when thick blood dribbled in, coating the whites of his eyes with thick red liquid. He opened them again; huge, frantically trying to find me.He couldn’t see.
The woman threw herself at him again, but I wouldn’t have it. He was down and I was his second line of defence. He had taught me that within the first year of our marriage. I charged, meeting her mid-air and both of us crashed into him, tumbling over his back and rolling a few feet away. In the haze, I heard him calling out to me, but my attention was focused on her. She’d landed on top of me again, this time facing me, I used it to my advantage. She was a lightweight, I realized as her body lifted from the ground when I dug my heel into her hip and kicked.
Hope surged through me as I gripped her tight and kicked out again, this time using both legs. The momentum sent her up, flipping over my head. When her feet came back down, there was no earth beneath them. We’d been so close to the edge. Terror washed over me as I turned onto my stomach and saw the drop mere inches from my head.
It was quiet then. She didn’t make a sound as her body dropped down the gorge. I wanted to crawl closer and watch her fall, but I also didn’t want to see the impact. I turned. Gunnar.
He was frantic, crawling around on all fours, touching the ground, searching for me. “Mia!” he called, repeating my name over and over again as his tears mixed with blood, pouring down his cheeks. Utter desperation shook his voice as he called out to me again. Skin flapped open, revealing white bone beneath his brow, but he seemed unaware of it as he continued calling my name.
I crawled towards him. “Love.”
He stopped, a sob of relief bursting from his lips, his fingers searching the ground to find his way back to me. I found him first and his arms closed around me. He pulled me into him, settling me in his lap while his hands roamed over my body searching for signs of injury. Blood soaked through my clothes, warm and sticky. His.
