Rescuing A Damsel

Damian

She ran!

I roar out throatily, as I slam my head back into the headrest. My blood roars in my ears, every nerve within me thumping hard and fast. And my muscles–they tense for release, aching for something–anything at all to hit.

Anything to take away the anger shimmering within my chest.

Anything to erase the fact that my betrothed from the Midnight Pack was gone. No note, no words, just gone.

I tense up, wanting to hit anything to hide the smear of an insult this would bring on me. But I restrain myself. Especially as I catch the worrying glances from my driver through the rear view mirror, every now and then.

I can decipher the look—the worry, the concern. It does not come from his empathy with me, No!

But it does come from his fear, at the very thought that in any moment from now, I can turn on him—and become the deranged wolf any moment  now.

I remember when it all started.

The uncontrollable fits of anger. Sudden surges of irrational rage reducing me to a feral creature of instinct. One that saw neither foe nor friend but was driven to the edge of unrestrained madness.

Mad enough to hurt my mother and…kill her.

Maybe that’s why my bride ran away.

My betrothed must have realized her life was way worth more than being knit to mine, in marriage. I sigh in annoyance, my anger swelling to the top again.

And so what? We were betrothed. It was her fucking duty, regardless of the state I am in.

A low growl escapes my throat at this, as I feel my wolf about  to take over. Just then I catch the whimper from my driver and immediately restrain myself from losing control. I already had one problem—I can not bring another one on my head.

Not when the Elders of the pack are desperately trying to discredit me from becoming Alpha. After all, who would want an unstable person like me as their Alpha?

But it’s supposed to be simple—this whole thing.

I am to be married and then lay claim to my rightful heritage. But with my betrothed missing, I am right back at square zero. Unable to prove to them I am capable of ruling the kingdom, after all, I did not get the girl.

But what is done, is done already---no crying over spilt milk.

All I have left is to fulfill the rest of the damn criteria. Which will in turn prove that I can take up the mantle.

The criteria of being of an Alpha’s bloodline, the criteria of strength of body and clarity of mind, and a mate—fated or chosen.

As a direct descent of an Alpha, I have the blood part covered. So also is the physical power and mental part—that is assuming my episodes do not threaten that standing already.

I can manage that, I sigh to myself. If I can stay calm and composed, I can overcome that. But having a mate? That’s the tricky part of it.

And without one, the Elders will be more than determined to keep me away from the coronation.

As the thought crosses my mind,  I am jolted sharply to reality by the sudden screech of tires on asphalt. My instincts roar in full frenzy, tensing as my body jerks forward. Only to be held back by the sheer might of my muscles and my palm against the headrest. 

“Whoa…. Drive careful–” The words hang on my lip as I behold someone tumbling down on the road.

“We hit someone.” My driver hurriedly says as he struggles to get the door.

But before his shaky hands can open the door, I rush out of mine. The cold night air greets me, as I rush to the front of the car, witnessing the accident victim and hoping for the worst.

And then I see her—a girl sprawled on the ground. She has a torn short dress to cover her frail frame. Her eyes glisten weakly, revealing  tears with shallow, strained breath. Though hurting, her face shines radiantly pulling me in.

 I find myself crouching before her.  “Are you hurt?” I ask, unable to locate the impact from the car, on her body.

If she is hurt, it’s not from the car.

But I can tell she is hurt, from the way she looks at me. From her trembling, cold hand in mine, as I lift her up. From the wobbling of her feet to which I steady her against my frame.

Down to the dried streak of blood on her body and her matted hair with dust and dirt. The accident was only a light hit—too light to have caused any of this.

My suspicion is confirmed when I see her lips tremble to a shout from across the road. “Hey!” A werewolf yells out to me.

“Walk away, man. We don’t want any trouble and you don’t want any, either but she is property.” He says, as he closes in on me with his wolves by his side.

My eyes dart from the lady leaning against me to the men closing in on us. Her eyes narrow with desperation, alongside a weak plea from her lips.

I look at them, pondering over what they had just said. They were right—I don’t want trouble. I don’t want to give the Elders any reason to delay or make things more complicated for me.

But the way they spoke to me, it set me boiling.

I had had enough trouble to not be regarded by my own people. Too much disrespect from my betrothed who ran away.

There and then, a crazy idea implants in my head. The Elders wanted me to marry—to have a mate. And now, Fate has thrown one right into my hands.  

I just had to get her on board with me.

“Hey, lady, are these men bothering you?’ I ask out aloud.

“Y-yes.” Her breath hitches. “Help me... I’d do anything, if you can get me away from here.” She adds.

And then, my smile broadens even wider. “Including marrying me for the next three months?’

“Huh?” She scowls, confusion all over her face

“Hey, last warning, walk away man.” He chants as they begin to circle around me. Their fists readying for violent combat

“Talk, little wolf.” I insist, feeling my fangs protrude from my lips.

“Me or Hell?”