Chapter 4 Mate Again?

(Hilda)

The pain is blinding.

Every heartbeat sends a fresh wave of agony through my leg, and the blood loss makes the world tilt and spin around me. 

My breath comes in short, ragged gasps as I drag myself beneath the tangled bramble. 

The leaves scratch at my face like claws. 

And yet… in the haze of pain, a strange sensation begins to bloom in my chest. 

Warmth. Familiarity. A pulse of energy not my own, beating just beneath my skin.

I freeze, breath hitching.

My mate.

I can feel him. Close. Closer than he’s been in a year. 

The bond that was once so silent now trembles with power, like a string pulled taut, humming with recognition.

It’s him.

It has to be.

“Soren…” I whisper, the name barely escaping my cracked lips. 

My heart lurches with desperate hope. 

He came. 

He couldn’t let Damon kill me. 

He couldn’t live with what he’d done.

Tears leak from my eyes as darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision. 

I clutch the feeling like a lifeline. 

He must be near. I’m sure of it. 

That steady presence, the thrum of a bond that once felt like home.

My broken heart latches onto the illusion, too desperate to question it.

He’s here. Soren's here.

But just before the darkness takes me completely, the energy shifts.

It’s not cold. Not distant. Not hollow like it became with Soren. 

It’s… strong. Fierce. Gentle and wild all at once. 

A warmth I’ve never known curls through my bones, soothing the edges of my pain. 

It wraps around me like a shield.

And suddenly, I’m not so sure.

This isn’t Soren.

It’s someone else.

Someone stronger.

With the last of my strength I manage to crawl into a thick bush, my body trembling with pain and exhaustion. 

The taste of blood fills my mouth, and I can feel the darkness closing in. 

As I lose sentience, I pray that they won't find me. 

I wonder who it is that I felt…

***

When I finally come to, the world is hazy and disorienting. 

My body aches, but the searing pain has dulled to a manageable throb. 

When I try to sit up, a gentle hand presses me back down.

“Easy now,” a deep, soothing voice says. “You’re safe.” 

I blink, trying to focus. 

A man is holding me, his amber eyes full of concern. 

His touch is gentle, and I can feel a strange energy radiating from him. 

My wolf stirs within me, whispering a truth that I can hardly believe. 

Searching the man’s eyes, I look for answers. 

He’s beautiful in a way that steals the breath from my lungs.

High cheekbones and a strong, regal jaw, his amber gaze warm but commanding. 

Silky dark hair falls into his eyes, damp with sweat, giving him a disheveled, dangerous charm. 

His body is built like a warrior’s, every inch of him hard and powerful, the sculpted bulk of a seasoned fighter.

And when he looks at me, really looks, something ancient and powerful stirs in my soul.

“Who are you?” I croak, my voice weak. 

“I found you injured in the forest,” he says, his voice calm and reassuring. “I brought you here to heal.” 

Looking around, I realize we’re in a small, cozy cabin. 

The scent of herbs and wood smoke fills the air and a fire crackles in the hearth.

The man’s touch is comforting and I feel a connection to him that I can’t explain. 

It’s as if my soul recognizes him, even though we’ve never met.

“Alpha Damon’s men… they were chasing me,” I whisper, my voice trembling like a cracked branch. 

“I need to go. I can’t stay here. If they find me…if he finds me…”

The man’s expression shifts. 

His jaw tightens, but not with anger, but something more complicated, colder, sharper. 

“You’re safe here,” he says, his voice steady. “They won’t find you. I’ll make sure of it.”

I want to believe him, but my fear lingers, sinking its claws into my ribs. 

“Why are you helping me?” I ask, eyeing him with suspicion. “You don’t even know me.”

He tilts his head slightly, his amber eyes unreadable. 

“Let’s just say I have… an interest in the kind of people Alpha Damon tries to destroy.”

My breath catches. “That’s not comforting,” I say, barely above a whisper. 

“I’ve seen what Damon does. And King Arlo, he’s supposed to be worse.”

The man raises an eyebrow, almost like I’ve amused him. 

“The Alpha King Arlo?” he echoes casually. “What makes you say that?”

I swallow hard.

“Everyone knows what he is. He’s brutal. Merciless. They say he kills without blinking and rules through fear. That he’s more beast than man.”

There’s a flicker of something, mischief maybe, in his eyes. “Sounds terrifying.”

“He is,” I say quickly, shrinking back against the blanket, not even sure why I’m still talking. 

“If either of them hunts me down, I’m dead. Or worse.”

He watches me for a long moment, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire. 

Then, unexpectedly, he smiles. It’s not cruel or mocking, just... faintly intrigued.

“You really believe all that?” he asks, his voice lower now, smooth as smoke. “About King Arlo?”

I nod. “Don’t you?”

He considers that for a beat, then leans in slightly, his voice a quiet murmur. “Let’s say I’ve heard... conflicting accounts.”

I frown, confused and increasingly unsettled. “You speak like you know him.”

Another glint in his eyes. “I know of him.”

I don’t know what to say to that. 

My instincts are tangled, part of me wants to bolt, the other part, strangely, wants to stay right here. 

Near him.

“I don’t even know your name,” I say finally, my voice small.

He leans back slightly, shadows falling across his face as he studies me. 

“Names have power,” he says softly. “You’ve had enough people using power to hurt you.”

That shouldn’t feel like a kindness. 

But somehow, it does.

And when he reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers brush my skin so gently it makes my breath catch.

“Why are you really helping me?” I ask again, almost afraid of the answer.

His gaze holds mine. “Because,” he says slowly, “you’re my mate. And I protect what is mine.”

The words ripple through me like a stone dropped into still water. 

I want to recoil, but I don’t. 

Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the firelight, or the strange comfort in his presence, but for the first time since waking, I don’t feel like prey.

I feel... watched over. Wanted.