CHAPTER 4: We Meet Again

Lena's POV

The door to Darion’s room practically flew off its hinges under my hand and I stormed in with my anger crackling around me.

“Alright, you mangy trouble-making overgrown wolf.. I have had abso...”

The words died in my throat.

Darion stood in the middle of the room, frozen mid-motion wnd he was… well, he was wearing a towel. Just a towel. A single distressingly small towel wrapped precariously low around his hips.

Water dripped from his dark hair tracing a path down a chest that was… impressively sculpted. I mean it was a ridiculously well-built chest. Every muscle was defined from the powerful shoulders down to a stomach you could probably wash clothes on. My brain short-circuited and my face flushed with a heat so intense I was surprised my hair didn’t catch fire.

A deep unwelcome curl of arousal tightened in my stomach and I immediately hated myself for it. It’s the bond, you idiot, I screamed internally. Just the stupid, unholy mate bond making you think the apocalypse delivering furball is sexy!

“Do you mind?” His voice was a low and laced with more amusement than annoyance.

He moved, snatching a dark robe from a nearby chair and pulling it on and tying the sash securely. The moment he was covered, I could finally breathe again though my heart was still pounding.

Right. Anger. I was here for anger!

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. “Really. And why does an ancient vampire who probably attended the first Thanksgiving want to turn you into a chew toy?”

Darion’s expression shuttered, the brief amusement vanishing.

“It doesn’t concern you, witch. This is my problem.”

“Oh, it became my problem when you dragged your bloody cursed hide onto my doorstep!” I shot back, throwing my hands up. “I played my part. I healed you. Now your three-day eviction notice starts today. You and your drama need to be gone before Julian comes back to redecorate my Crib with my insides.”

I turned on my heel to leave. I’d said my piece.

“Wait.”

The word was so quiet.. so utterly broken that it stopped me cold. It didn’t sound like the Alpha of all Alphas. It sounded like a lost man.

I turned back slowly. The arrogant mask was gone and in its place was a gut-wrenching misery that seemed to hollow out his eyes. The mate bond.. that infuriating tether between us and a pang of sympathy... real stupid sympathy... hit me square in the chest.

“My name is Darion,” he began, his voice hollow. “Alpha of the Northwood Pack.” He let out a bitter humorless laugh. “Former Alpha. Rogue Alpha is the official term now, I believe. Hunted by my own people… or what’s left of them.”

He sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at his hands as if they were covered in blood. Maybe they were.

“My decisions… my pride… it cost me everything… my family.. my friends and more than half my pack wiped out because I was too arrogant to see the trap.” He looked up at me and the pain in his gaze was quite pitiful. “I’m not a leader. I’m a cautionary tale.. an outcast running from the ghosts of everyone I failed.”

The sadness pouring off him through the bond pulled me under and without even thinking, I took a step closer, then another. My hand lifted almost of its own will, coming to rest gently on his shoulder.

The second my skin touched his, I snapped back to reality. What are you doing?! I recoiled as if burned putting a good three feet between us.

“Damn this stupid bond,” I cursed with my cheeks flaming again.

That’s when he moved.

He crossed the space between us in a second with his hand cupping my cheek. His eyes searched mine for a second full of a confusion that mirrored my own and then he kissed me.

It was surprisingly soft like a question more than a statement and for one terrifying electrifying heartbeat my traitorous body wanted to answer.

Then my brain caught up and I shoved him back with all my strength with my hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp, satisfying crack.

“You pervert!” I spat, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Was that pathetic sob story just a setup? Some messed-up werewolf tactic to catch me off guard?”

He touched his reddening cheek, looking genuinely startled.

“No! Lena, I swear, everything I said is true. I… I don’t know what came over me. I apologize. It was… instinct…”

“Don’t you blame instinct for your lack of control!” I was shouting now with rage, embarrassment and a horrifying tingle on my lips. “Your story still doesn’t explain Julian! Why does a centuries-old vampire want a broken, rogue Alpha?”

“I don’t know!” he roared back, his own frustration finally boiling over. “I have no idea! He just… appeared. After the attack. He’s been hunting me ever since and I don’t know why!”

We were standing there glaring at each other when without any warning.. his eyes widened in shock.

A gut-wrenching scream tore from his lips in pure agony and he clutched at his chest, collapsing to the floor. Dark venomous-looking veins began snaking up his arms, crawling over his neck and spreading across his face like black lightning. He writhed, his body seizing.

The door burst open and Tormund charged in, his eyes wide.

“By the gods! What’s happening?”

I dropped to my knees beside Darion, my healer’s instincts shoving everything else aside. I placed my hands on his burning skin, my magic reaching out to probe the sickness and what I felt made my blood run cold.

“It’s a curse,” I whispered, pulling my hands back as if stung. “But not any witchcraft I know. This is… ancient and vile. It’s latched onto his soul and it’s feeding on his grief and his self-loathing. It’s eating him alive from the inside out.”

Tormund helped me heave the convulsing Alpha onto the bed.

“What can we do?”

“Nothing you can do,” I said, my mind already racing through possibilities, each one worse than the last. “Shut the door. Don’t let anyone in.”

Once alone, I tried everything. Simple charms, complex herbal remedies and counter-curses I hadn’t used in decades but bothing even made a dent. The dark veins continued their terrible spread and his breathing grew shallower.

I knew what I had to do. The one thing I swore I’d never do.. my hidden self. The power I kept locked down deep because using it was like lighting a beacon in the supernatural world screaming, ‘HERE I AM! COME AND GET ME!’

But if I didn’t.. he would die right here in my sanctuary under my care. I couldn’t let that happen!

“Stupid, trouble-making wolf,” I muttered, taking a deep steadying breath. “You owe me for this.”

I let the walls down. Just a crack.. just enough.

The power that flowed out wasn’t the gentle green energy of a hedge witch. It was something else entirely.. something old and wild and terrifyingly bright and I directed it into him not to cure... that was far beyond me... but to push and to force the curse back into a dormant state.. to build a cage around it within his soul.

It was exhausting. Sweat beaded on my brow and by the time I was done swaying on my feet, the black veins had receded. His breathing was deep and even and his face peaceful in sleep. He was stable.. for now.

I was just wiping my forehead, feeling dizzy and exposed when a loud frantic knock came at the door.

Tormund didn’t even wait for an answer. He stuck his head in wiyhis face pale.

“Lena. We have trouble.”

“What now?” I groaned, following him out into the hallway and toward the main hall.

“A witch. Says she felt a… ‘disturbance.’ Demands to speak to the proprietor.”

We entered the main hall where the usual comforting chatter of my residents was dead, replaced by a silent fearful tension and then I saw her.

Standing in the center of the room dressed in head-to-toe black that seemed to drink the light from the air was a witch I’d hoped to never see again. Elsa.

Our eyes met across the room and a slow vicious smirk spread across her pale face with a look of pure evil.

“Well, well,” she said sweetly. “We meet again, little Lena…”