Drake's POV:
Try as she might, there was something off about my mate. My wolf, Gile, was already whipped beyond thinking clearly. All he wanted was to mark her, to mate with her, to claim what was ours. But I couldn't let that blind me to the truth—my mate was hiding something. Dark? Perhaps. But one thing was certain: I had to find out what that was before it became a threat to either of us. Her distractions were working for now, but I needed to stay vigilant. I needed to know who was chasing her before she stumbled into my pack and why they had been after her.
It was late, and I knew she'd probably be asleep by now. Gile was ecstatic at the thought of finally being able to sleep with our mate beside us, to end the restless nights that had plagued us since we were young, since that fateful event. I made my way to our room, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips as I remembered how she had ambushed me earlier. The girl had spirit—too much sometimes—but damn if it didn't make things more interesting. I chuckled softly at the memory as I quietly opened the door, not wanting to wake her.
That chuckle, however, came to an abrupt stop when I glanced over at the bed and found it empty. My heart dropped. Don't tell me she ran away again. But this time, I wasn't there to stop her.
"Damn it!" I cursed out loud, the panic rising in my chest like a tidal wave. Gile was already going berserk in my head, his frantic words repeating over and over: "Mate! Mate! We need to find our mate!" I tried to calm him, knowing that panicking wasn't going to help. We needed to think clearly if we were going to track her down.
Then, Gile's voice cut through the chaos in my mind, more focused this time. "She's still here."
"What do you mean she's still here?" I asked, holding onto that glimmer of hope.
"I can sense her wolf. She's somewhere close by."
Relief washed over me. She hadn't abandoned us after all. I didn't have to search the whole damn world for her. But still, the fact that she wasn't in our room worried me. Where the hell had she gone?
I stormed out of the room and began searching through the pack house, a low growl rumbling in my chest. It was then that I heard a muffled scream. Alarm bells went off in my head as I sprinted toward the sound, my heart hammering in my chest. It was coming from behind the guest room, the noise of a struggle. Without hesitation, I blasted the door open, fully prepared to kill whoever was hurting her.
But what I saw made me freeze in place. There she was, wrestling violently with her blanket. Her body thrashed as though she were trapped in a nightmare far worse than anything I could ever imagine. Something was definitely off. Gile was giving me bad vibes, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a bad dream. "Wake her up," Gile urged, his voice dripping with anxiety. "She's hurting."
A dull ache began to spread through my chest, the bond making it clear that her pain was also mine. I rushed to her side and was met with the sight that broke me into pieces. She was crying—no, she had been crying for a long time. The bed sheets beneath her were damp with her tears, her soft, pleading whispers escaping her lips in a haunting rhythm. "Please, not again, not again… I'll be good, I'll be good… Daddy, don't let him take me… Please, Daddy…"
My heart shattered. Whoever had hurt her, whoever had made her feel this way, was going to pay. But right now, I had to wake her from whatever hellish nightmare was tormenting her.
I gently shook her, whispering her name, trying to pull her out of that dark place. "Wake up, love… It's okay, you're safe." But no matter what I did, she wouldn't wake up. Her body continued to shake, her cries piercing the air like knives to my chest. Desperate, I pulled her into my arms, holding her close, cradling her as though I could protect her from the demons in her mind. I whispered soft, comforting words, stroking her hair until finally, her body began to relax. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, I thought she'd find solace in seeing me.
But instead, she jerked away from me as though I'd burned her, muttering to herself. "He's an Alpha too," she said, her voice distant and disconnected. "I shouldn't trust him… He's just like the others…
Before I could respond, she bolted for the door. In an instant, she shifted into her wolf—a stunning sight, pure white with a black tip on her nose and tail, a striking contrast to my own midnight-black wolf. She darted toward the forest, her powerful legs propelling her into the darkness.
Without thinking, I shifted mid-jump, chasing after her with everything I had. Gile pushed me to go faster, his panic matching my own. The sight of her running from me—of her being terrified of me—was a pain I hadn't anticipated. Whoever had hurt her, whoever had made her fear Alphas, had left a mark so deep it threatened to ruin everything. But I needed her to know that I wasn't like them. I wasn't the monster she feared. Yes, I was a ruthless Alpha, feared by many, but with her, I was just a man—a man desperate to show his mate that he would never hurt her.
Catching up to her, I pounced, shifting back into my human form in mid-air so I wouldn't hurt her with the weight of my wolf. I held her down gently as she struggled beneath me, her body thrashing in an attempt to break free. But despite her panic, she didn't bite or claw at me. Somewhere, deep in her mind, she must have recognized me as her mate and held back.
And then, she shifted. Her body trembled in my arms as she sobbed uncontrollably. My heart ached as I held her tightly, refusing to let go until her cries softened. Slowly, she began to recover, her breathing evening out as she regained her composure.
When she finally looked up at me, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as she realized we were both naked, her body still nestled against mine. Her hands flew to her face, covering it in embarrassment, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly. There she was—my fierce, wild little mate, suddenly shy and blushing in my arms.
"Don't worry, love," I murmured, my voice low and soothing as I held her close. "You're safe now. I've got you."
"As much as I like holding you like this, we need to get clothes before I go all nasty on you," I teased, my voice low, hoping to keep things light despite the seriousness of the moment.
Her reaction was immediate—she quickly scrambled to her feet and turned her back to me, covering herself in the most adorable way. "Don't look!" she yelled over her shoulder.
I couldn't help but laugh. Even after everything that had happened, her fiery spirit was something I admired.
Still chuckling to myself, I headed toward a nearby bush where my pack members stashed emergency clothing. This situation definitely qualified as one of those emergencies. With some clothes in hand, I walked back to where she still stood, her back rigid as if shielding herself from my eyes was her greatest mission. Little did she know, her curved silhouette was burned into my mind.
"Here, catch!" I tossed the clothes to her.
She spun around just in time to catch them, her eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "I told you not to look!" she shrieked, immediately shielding herself again.
Rolling my eyes with a smirk, I turned away, hands raised in mock surrender. "I've already seen, sweetheart. There's no need to be shy. We're mates, after all."
She huffed behind me as I heard her slipping into the clothes. I was tempted to sneak another glance, but for her sake, I resisted. She needed time to recover, to feel safe. After everything she'd been through, I owed her that much.
"Okay," she finally said, her voice quieter now, "You can turn around."
I spun back around, only to stifle a laugh at the sight before me. The shorts I'd given her were comically large, and she was holding them up with one hand. "They're too big," she muttered, trying to roll the waistband of the shorts to make them stay up, but it was a futile effort. The shorts were determined to defy her, slipping down no matter what she did.
"Yeah, I can see that," I said, still holding back my laughter as I watched her wrestle with the clothes.
"The t-shirt isn't much better either," I teased, noticing how it hung loosely off her shoulders. "You look like a kid in their dad's clothes."
She shot me a glare, her cheeks turning pink. "Not helping, Drake," she muttered, still clutching the shorts with one hand. The oversized clothing clearly wasn't doing her any favors, but I couldn't help but find the whole situation amusing—and endearing.
I stepped closer, a playful grin on my face. "I don't know, I think it's kind of cute."
She rolled her eyes, trying to keep her composure, though I could tell she was fighting off a smile. "You're impossible," she huffed, adjusting the shirt again.
I chuckled softly, enjoying the banter. "And yet, here you are, stuck with me," I teased, stepping even closer. The air between us grew charged again, that undeniable pull drawing me in. But I knew better than to push her after everything she had just gone through.
"Look," I said softly, letting the humor drop from my tone for a moment, "I know you've been through hell, and I don't want to rush anything. But I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together, okay?"
She looked up at me, her eyes softer now but still guarded. After a long pause, she nodded. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I smiled, resisting the urge to pull her back into my arms. "Good. Now, let's head back before someone else finds us like this. I don't think either of us wants to explain why you're holding up your shorts like that."
Finally, a small smile broke through her tough exterior, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of the woman she could be beneath all the pain. It was enough to make me hope that maybe—just maybe—I could be the one to help her heal.