Episode 10

☽☽☽

MIKAEL'S POV

☾☾☾

"It's not funny at all." She glares at me, flapping her fabric-sheltered hands. They are invisible as the sleeves swallow them up. I think it to be a cute image, but she unmistakably hates it. "How am I supposed to do shit with the sleeves this darn large? And do not freaking put your teeth on display." She warns. I smile only to spite her and because it's quite enjoyable when she's annoyed as her subtle Southern accent strains through in her speeches.

"I'll smile when I want to, piscín." Apparently not in the mood to spit out retorts anymore, she swivels away from me and works on rolling up her extensive jacket hands. Immediately finished, in a short half-leap, she's off the car and onto the ground.

She unfurls, reaching for the sky then to her side, her nubile body bending into weird shapes, which I delight in imagining making her hold for hours. She's doing this on purpose. No one stretches this way... In such a way that triumphantly stretches the fabric of my trouser in response.

Out of nowhere, Rikal growls harshly, and it hits me like a bolt of lightning.

I sink my heels into the ground, restraining myself from staggering back in pain. She's not to see the battle going on in my head. The heat. The need. The craving.

["Let us mate with the human!"]

["Lie still."] I command, and he surpisingly retreats, although ultimately upset. His confusion at what he senses and irritation at my dismissal cause goosebumps to dart upwards on my skin.

It was a century ago that we lost her—our mate. Since after, there have only been a handful of occasions where I felt the need to ferally mate with any female. Now is one of them, though also an exception as it is the only time it's been with a human woman. In spite of the animosity he has against her, Rikal cannot deny an attraction to her. Or is it that his initial reaction was not entwined with detestation?

It's bizarre.

I can't fully understand what it is he's feeling. In addition to his bewilderment, he's being guarded. Again. Nonetheless, we both know: humans cannot be mates to werewolves. The wolf-half would never be able to bind with the mortal woman or man. It's never been. Probably never will be. Wolves, for this reason, never desire to mate with humans.

It's almost like a law of nature. When werewolves fall in love with humans, only the half-human is attracted enough to the partner to procreate with them. This was why humans did not birth werewolves as children. Solely humans.

Oddly enough, my wolf is drawn to an unblemished human. And not simply a mere fascination with her. He deems her suitable enough to mate with. Might it be because her father's a wolf?

What the hell is going on?

"A stake."

"A stake?" I pause to collect my line of thinking. My head throbs harshly with the desires of my wolf. It's chaos inside of me. "I don't have one. I do not like fighting with weapons."

"I need a stake." A lour creases my temple as she stalks away from me. What is she to do?

What does she know?

She's not innocent, this one. A quality that initially made her the best candidate for being my Luna—albeit temporarily—in addition to the basics of my plan. Currently, though, it bothers me. It's disturbing that I have a weak effect on her while she's so positively compelling to me. Of all blasted things, her anger arouses me, and it's even worse that I enjoy putting her in her place.

When she talks, I avoid staring at those red, plump lips because I know if I watch them longer than a moment, I'll start kissing her, and I won't be able to stop. Even a layperson can predict where that will lead. Lusty thoughts cloud my head with every move she executes, making it hard to cogitate rationally. And it's only been a day.

I might be fucked.

"Found something good!" She returns in haste, fine curves aggressively swaying, before I can set out to find her. It's safe in this arena. So she can wander as far as she wants. Joma protects all of hither as it is part of my jurisdiction and, therefore, under her control as well.

"What have you found?" I roll my shoulders, attempting to release the tension that has the muscles in them coiled up. It's been a hard day, but it would be a true lie if I blame this pressure exerted on every point of my body on stress. It's all her handiwork.

"This." In a flourish, she produces a sturdy branch of considerable length. It's roughly as tall as the entirety of her arm.

"You do know that wood is not of the type that can kill them, right?"

"Of course, I do." She lifts it upward, with efforts I must say to not whip herself in the head, then twirls it around, surveying its length. "This is a random chunk of wood. Just thinking to get them weakened."

"Moreover, the tips of that one are rounded. Would do nothing to them, love."

"I appreciate your concern. But I'm not stupid, Alpha Mikael." She barks, turning her back on me.

"Hand it here. I'll deal with tearing it in two so." I beckon on her. And...she ignores me. I'm gradually learning to not blow up at her attitude. Still doesn't change the fact that it is incredibly vexing, nonetheless.

"I have hands," is her retort, and I watch as she raises the stick once, lowers it, then the second time, snapping it in two over her knee. Briefly, her face contorts, obviously in pain. It does not linger, though as she meets my eyes, all poker-faced. I have to wonder, what is she trying to prove to me?  I make the decision to ignore her also.

It does not take minutes before the haze is disrupted. Finally, they're here. I hear their footsteps first. Then I see them. They must have ditched their car as they are on foot. Also, there is only two of them, far lesser in number than was first in their vehicle. Why could that be?

"Alpha Mikael." That infuriating voice.

It's him. The same arse who crossed me in not even the passing of a week. He's honestly grown tired of living, has he not? My wolf grunts his agreement. He's alert, ready to tear out if need be. Second chances will definitely not be given today if anyone oversteps their boundaries.

"Why did you follow us?" Blocking Saskia from their view while ignoring her protests, I address the one I know to identify out of the two due to our de trop history. I still do not know the fool's name, nor do I think I ever want to.

"We are here to see our new Luna." I snarl at his reply, ready to rip a body to pieces.

"Our?" A cruel smile hangs on my lips as the scenario where I incapacitate both creatures after a good bout of torture plays in my head. It's distracting. The plot of all that would be done fills my head for a solid trice, disconnecting my consciousness from reality. The shattering of bones would very well lift my spirits. It would be a good conversion of the pent-up frustrations in me.

"Yes. Our. Luna. Heard she was beautiful, Alpha." Only one has been talking. The other, who is dressed in all black clothes and a broad-rimmed cap, has not said a word since their arrival. I find his line of sight directed behind me suspicious. And speaking of suspicious, why have I not heard of the wild kitten?

I whip around to find her gone.