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My fur stood on end and I was about to lunge. I could take Bradford out quickly, then take on the other two without anyone getting near Christopher. Just as I was about to strike, Christopher lurched forward and gripped me around the neck.
“No! Don’t!” he cried.
With my mate’s scent surrounding me, his face buried my neck, I acted on instinct. It would be a moment I could never forget—though it happened too fast for me to stop my actions.
Christopher held me tight, not wanting me to leave his side or hurt the other wolf, I didn’t know. I knew his scent took over my senses and blocked out everything else. His arms were around my neck and my muzzle was against his neck. Then I was biting. My canines sunk into his flesh and the taste of his blood hit my tongue. He cried out, gripping me harder, not trying to get away.
I let go of him and stepped back, immediately sinking into my human form.
What had I done?
Christopher took one look at me, his mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. His eyes rolled back and he passed out.
I held Christopher close, my brother and cousins shifting then and there.
“Oh, fuck!” my cousin Stan said. “Is he dead?”
“No. He’s not dead. It’s worse. I… I mated him. I mated a human.” And not just any human, Christopher. And more than that, as I scented him deeply, brushing aside his fear and the adrenalin running through me—Christopher was my fated mate.
Please don’t let him hate me for all of this.
Chapter Five
Christopher
Myheadwaspounding.One minute I was escaping life and the next I was being attacked by wolves. After that… it all became fuzzy.
I’d felt a bite. I lifted my hand to touch my neck, but my body didn’t cooperate. The bite hadn’t been painful, though. It had been … pleasurable? No. That was crazy. I was losing it.
My family was going to find me out here in the wilderness maimed by ravenous wolves and their Christmas would be officially ruined. Why? Because I freaked out at my sister getting married to my high school crush. I deserved this slow death.
How had they even hooked up after all these years, and how did I not know? Why was I worried about now when I should be worried about how I was going to live through this? Death was weird that way, I supposed.
At least that’s what I thought was happening—the dying part. It felt more like a dream than reality with the exception of the pounding in my head. There was this inexplicable happiness flowing through me, almost like a hug, like all was suddenly right in the world with the exception of the blasted head issue. I tried to open my eyes for the “I lost count of how many times” and failed.
There was a warmth that surrounded me with unspoken promises that kept me calm. It was what I always imagined I’d feel like in Nicholas’s arms, on the days when I let myself fantasize.
“I’ve got you,” a voice said from far away, like they were on an old radio in the next room. “I’ve got you.”
I went to speak, to ask for them to come to me, but my body wouldn’t move, my lips wouldn’t cooperate. And when I was picked up, this feeling of safety and being home came over me and I stopped fighting it and let myself relax completely—so completely I fell asleep or something like it.
When I finally came to, and my eyes opened, I found myself in an unfamiliar room with a very familiar face sitting next to me, worry on his brow.
He hadn’t aged a day. He looked just as he did at sixteen.
“Nicholas,” I said. His name came out like a breathless wheeze.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, and took my hand in his. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“No. Wolves. Head.” So much for complete sentences.
“You hit your head on a rock after you passed out. I brought you to my house, not wanting to worry your family. My mom called to let them know you were here helping her with—I didn’t ask her what excuse she gave.” A fake smile. He was wearing a fake ass smile. It was the same one he’d used when he had to tell me that he accidently wrecked my book that I’d lent him. He wanted to soften the blow, but I could always read his face. How bad was I?
“My sister?” I was in pain after being attacked by wolves, and my first thought was that he was marrying her. That was all kinds of messed up.
“The wolves are gone. If she was with you, I’m sure she’s safe at home now. I can call.” He reached to his back pocket, probably going for a cell phone.
“What?” Why was he talking about that when he should be telling me he was calling off the wedding?
