Chapter 3

“What are you going to do with me?” I ask him, as he watches me like I am going to run again. And I might, if he gives me the chance, not that it will do me much good with my ankle. 

“If you are a healer, why are you so damn weak?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Are you going to kill me? Or let me go like you mentioned earlier…” I ask, ignoring his question as right now, my questions are more pertinent. If I’m about to die, I need to make a plan.

“Damn, you are scrawny.” He mutters, leaning in and looking closer. My cheeks flare in embarrassment and I instinctively hug myself, looking for coverage, looking away as he circles me. Didn’t we go over my shitty body figure earlier? “And your ankle should be healing by now, but it is not. Not that great of a healer, if you ask me.”

He seems to talk to himself, or maybe his lycan, as he circles around me, inspecting me. My wolf retreats, licking our wounds and mourning the loss of our mate who just rejected us. Not that we are missing out on much, if you ask me. This guy is clearly unhinged. Or mental. He finally stands up straight, hands on his hips as he clicks his tongue and nods. 

“Rejecting you was the right choice,” he muses, as if he has made some astounding discovery.

I blink at him, my anger growing at his mentioning my rejection. It is very clear it hurt me more than him, not that I want to be mated to a blood hungry monster like him who only wants virgins in white. What kind of asshole accepts a virgin sacrifice every year? Where are the girls? Does he take what he wants from them and kill them or does he—

“Let’s go.” He says, reaching out to lift me up. I throw my hands up, stopping him, taking a painful step back.

“Woah! What are you going to do to me…” I ask and he looks like he just remembered I could speak. 

“I am taking you back to my pack, little mouse,” he says with an annoyed frown.

“Your pack…” I say, confused, and he chuckles. 

“Yes. My pack.”

“You mean…” I furrow my brows. “You don’t plan to like…do things…to me?”

His eyebrows rise in shock and then his face morphs as a laugh rings through the trees. My breathing ceases, his deep reverberations shooting through me and straight into my heart. Monster or not, he is unfairly attractive when he laughs. Dimples pop out and his lips part, showing me a beautiful smile as my mouth falls open and I gape at him. Fate really is a cruel bitch. 

“Do things to you?” he repeats, leaning forward, sniffing near my ear before pulling back, his eyes locking on mine. “I would break you before you could enjoy anything. So no, I have no plans to…do things to you.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “At least you have a sense of humor,” he grumbles.

“I don’t understand…what will you do with me then? Am I free to go or not?”

“No. You are not. You are an offering, Gemini. Now you belong to me and my pack. A little gift to keep the peace.” he shrugs.

“And your pack—” I swallow at his words. Am I supposed to be shared? Become a breeder for their kind? Didn’t he just comment on how small and weak I am? Obviously I would be a terrible option to birth massive lycan children.

“Lycans are only male.” He states. “Which means mates must be found from the werewolf packs.”

“But I am your mate…” I remind him and his expression grows dark before he looks away and sighs heavily. 

“You talk too much.” Then he lunges forward, and grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder as he did before. “You can have your answers when we arrive.”

I squeal in anger, my cheeks heating as I push off his back with my arms. Being manhandled like this twice now is infuriating. But even more so is his lack of answers and simple explanation of what my future holds and that only has me looking for a way out even harder.

I was a prisoner for the first twenty years of my life at Hidden Rock and now he is dragging me away to another prison where I will be stuck and likely never see my brother again. 

“You said if I have a death wish, I could go on my own.” I say, trying to twist on his shoulder, to get him to drop me. “I have a death wish! An enormous death wish. I promise!” 

“Well, I lied,” he says, sounding bored with the conversation already.

“So you rejected me only to take me to your pack and do what? Become a breeder for your lycan’s to pass around?”

His muscles tense beneath me, and he growls low in his chest, but he says nothing. Instead, he drops me to the ground, and a sneer on his face and his eyes filled with anger.

“No one will touch you,” he grits out.

“Then why take me? You have no claim on me, so that means anyone can take me as theirs–” He growls, pulling me up from the ground as his nose twitches, trying to control his feral beast that dances behind the green begging to come out.

“You will be no ones. You are unwanted, rejected by their king, the luna that will never be. Touching you would be a disrespect to me. Your purpose will be healing, since you claim to be decent at it.”

I stare at him, shocked. Not that I should be. The asshole is unhinged, no doubt unstable. Hell, I should be glad that he doesn’t want me. It’s not like I want him either…attractive or not, crazy is a red flag. A big ass lycan sized one with green eyes and I’ll be damned if I let those tantalizing eyes fool me. Green does not mean go. Green means run, far, far away. And that’s what I will do. The second he drops me off at his pack.

We watch each other in silence, my anger simmering beneath the surface, igniting the little space between us. Then I sigh and nod.

“Fine. as long as I’m not bound to you, I am happy to be anywhere else.” I grit out. He releases me, looking away, but not before I see the hurt flash in his eyes.

“We need to move before more of your pack warriors find us.” He reaches out to grab me again and I clamber away. 

“I can walk!” I squeal out, holding up my hands in desperation, not wanting to be on his shoulder again. My ribs already ache from the short distance he carried me. 

“Your ankle is well enough?” he asks.

I look down at the blood encrusted appendage that is red and inflamed up half my leg and I wince. It’s going to hurt like hell, but I refuse to let him tote me around like a bag of flesh. 

“Yep.” I lie, spinning on my good heel and walking away from him. There is no hiding my limping, but I push on, biting back the whimpers with every footfall. I glance over my shoulder and look at him. “You planning to let me lead the way?” 

He looks conflicted before he groans and moves up next to me. 

“You look like you are in pain,” he mumbles. 

“Why the hell do you care?” I mutter, my annoyance growing with each pang zipping up my leg. 

“How long have you been a healer?” he asks, and I scoff. Now he wants to have a casual conversation? What the hell is wrong with this guy?

“How long have you had those weird tattoos?” I shoot back at him. I catch a smirk on his lips.

“Since I can remember. I was born with them.” He says. I furrow my brows and look at him. 

“You were born with chains tattooed on your skin?”

“Mmhmm,”

“Totally believable,” I grumble, walking on. I can barely focus on walking, let alone having a full-fledged conversation with the asshole who one minute is smiling and the next telling me no one will ever love me. 

I stumble over a rock, a small cry tearing from my lips as my hand flies out and clutches his wrist for support. He inhales sharply, and I cut my eyes up to him, watching his facial expression like my touch has hurt him. I yank my hand back, pressing it to my leg.

“Sorry,” I mutter. 

Roscoe steps in front of me and drops to one knee with his tattooed back facing me.

“What are you doing?”

“I will carry you,” he offers, and I snort a laugh. 

“Yeah, that’s going to be a hard no.”

“Get. on. Or I will throw you over my shoulder again.”

I make a face at his turned body and exhale, knowing there is no way I can continue to walk if we have to go much farther. My wolf is still pouting and sick from trying to heal everyone else. Hell, that’s why my ankle is barely healing when it should be fixed.

My hands reach out tentatively, sliding across his smooth shoulders, his warmth leaching into me and making me shiver. I hadn’t even known I was cold until right now. I lean forward, pressing my chest to him, weaving my arms down and across his chest, clinging to him tight. 

My heart thuds against my rib cage, my cheeks heated and embarrassed that he senses my anxiousness. His hands slide over my thighs, cupping them at the cusp of where my buttock starts, and then he stands, tugging me up closer and walks with no words. 

The longer I remain pressed to him, the more my wolf seems to perk up, my ankle tingling from the healing as she finds it in herself to come forward and relish in the touch of our mate, even if he doesn’t want us.

Roscoe picks up speed, moving into a run. The trees and breeze whipping past us as my eyes grow heavy and my breathing calms. He doesn’t even seem phased by my weight as he moves through the forest like he knows it better than it knows itself.

Everything is a blur until we finally stop and I see a tall man leaning against a large run down stone gate. He perks up, pushing off it as he watches me curiously.

“She is hurt?” He asks.

“It wasn’t as simple as it always is,” Roscoe mutters, then he gently releases my legs, his hands sliding up my side as he holds me behind him. I limp around him and he keeps a hand on me the whole time, moving it to the small of my back as he looks down at me, his face stoic and unreadable. “Go.”

I nod, limping over to the man who places a hand out for me to take. 

“Hello, I am Beta Bridger,” he says with a soft, welcoming smile. 

“Hi,” I say softly, placing my hand in his and stepping over the pack line. If they need me, then I can heal here before I make my escape plan. 

The barrier flashes gold, a warbling breaking through the quiet area, and Roscoe howls in pain, falling to his knees and gasping for air. I watch in shock as the chain tattoos come to life, squeezing him, twisting over his flesh and distorting his face in agony. 

“Alpha!” Bridger hammers against the barrier, unable to break free and I watch in shock. “What the fuck is happening?”

My wolf growls in anger, the barrier a solid transparent gold wall keeping us from the man who doesn’t want us. Yet I fling myself forward, stepping through the wall, placing my hands on him as his pain strikes me in the chest, nearly knocking me over. My head falls back, my chest constricting as I cry out, and blackness dances at the edge of my vision. His eyes meet mine, his green orbs filled with confusion and worry.         

“How did you…” Beta Bridger says from behind me. “You shouldn’t be able to leave the barrier after you enter…”