4

~Meara

I'm not sure how much time passes, but it feels like I'm running forever.

Every time I look over my shoulder, I'm convinced Sire is right behind me. I imagine him reaching from the shadows, dragging me into them and back into the past, where he came from.

Nothing interrupts my run except the odd fallen branch and the hideous amount of rain that falls through the canopy, drenching me.

Hazel's house comes into view, and mercifully, I can see her bedroom light is on.

She made it back.

Rushing up her porch, I pound on her door. Glancing over my shoulder, I scan her driveway.

There is nothing there except rustling trees and growing puddles. There is no sign of an ancient Alpha coming to kill me or steal me away.

But if he tracked me from the tomb to my home, it's only a matter of time before he gets here.

Hazel opens the door, gasping at the sight of me.

I immediately charge past her and into her wonderfully warm living area. "I need you to tell me everything about Sire right now."

She releases a long breath, quickly locking the door behind me, sensing my eagerness.

"Meara, are you okay?" She questions, examining me with a concerned eye. Last time she saw me I was sinking into the very ground she stood on, seemingly to my death.

"No. I'm his mate," I gasp out, trying to regain my breath from my frantic run.

Hazel rubs the back of her neck, fumbling with her shock. "I figured..."

I pace back and forth, aware that I'm dripping all over her carpet, and I'm still covered in mud. If Hazel hadn't seen me sink into the ground, she would think I'm deranged.

"He followed me all the way to my house," I tell her, pointing in the general direction of it. I hope he is still there.

Hazel shudders. She knows more about him, and whatever it is that she knows, it isn't good.

"He probably wants to claim you," she exclaims matter-of-factly. She doesn't get emotional when she is faced with a problem, which is why I'm trusting her to keep me grounded.

Because it feels like my entire world is crumbling apart.

My mouth falls open a little. "Claim me?"

"He's from a different time. Back then, mates would mark each other as a claim. Especially Alpha's," Hazel explains to me slowly, trying not to let everything overwhelm me.

"He isn't touching me," I grit out, backing toward the fire.

Wiping the water from my face, I tug off my jacket, letting it drop in a sopping heap onto the ground. Why me? Why do I have to be mated to an insane person?

"Sure, fine...Where is he now?" She questions.

"Probably still at my house. He said he was low on strength." I hope he is still there. I don't know for certain - he could be anywhere by now.

Hazel's gaze darkens as she tosses another log of wood onto the fire before making her way to her bookshelf. It is a large, magnificent thing that is stacked full of books on magic, on the world and on history.

"His version of low on strength is not the same as ours, Meara," she reminds me, scanning the shelves for what she needs.

"Shit." I dig my hands into my wet locks, gripping them tightly. "You need to tell me everything you know about him so I can figure out what to do."

Hazel takes a moment before she pulls a fairly large book out from the bottom shelf, heaving it to the table where she lays it out. I immediately come to her side.

"Watch the wet hair," she mutters, brushing me away a little.

I oblige her, biting on the edge of my nails.

"My father collected a lot of books on those who also had magic, considering our own family history. There should be something in here about Sire," she mumbles, flipping through the pages.

Suddenly she stops, jabbing her finger at the page. “Here."

"That's him?" I ask, seeking clarification because it takes a great deal of squinting to make sense of the illustrator's depiction of him considering the decaying paper.

"It's a painting. Who knows if it's accurate...well, I suppose you do now,” Hazel notes with a half shrug.

"He looks a lot like that, but much taller and with freakish tattoos.” This version of him seems clean, maybe when he was a little younger.

The man I saw exuded raw power and the experience only a true Alpha carries.

"They used to symbolise strength, which he is not lacking in." Hazel draws her finger under the lines, silently reading whatever has been written about him.

I flop down into a seat, knowing I’m not going to be able to concentrate on those dense paragraphs. "Tell me more."

Hazel doesn’t look up as her eyes scan the page. "There used to be two Pack's. His father ruled over one for a time before he took over, and for many years, the two Pack's warred."

"What's the other Pack?"

"Our Pack...We can all be linked back to a common ancestor, just like his Pack,” Hazel tells me, sounding a little apprehensive.

We both know what that means.

"So I am a part of his enemy Pack?" There are no other Pack’s, so it’s not like I have a choice in the matter. But how will he see it? I can’t imagine he will be pleased when he comes to learn of this new information.

"He wouldn't care."

"How did the war end?" I ask.

"He was tricked and subsequently cursed by the old Alpha of our Pack. From there, his Pack was mostly slaughtered, and those who survived fled,” Hazel tells me. She doesn’t need to read the book to know this stuff.

Before her attempt at a spell, she familiarised herself well with the story.

"That's so sad,” I breathe.

Hazel shifts, shaking her head solemnly. "He was too powerful for this world, Meara. And every book I've read has told me that he has an evil, corrupted soul."

"They were likely written by members of our Pack...the victors,” I remind her sharply.

I don’t mean to sound harsh, but our understanding of who Sire is as a person is reliant on the perspectives of others. It’s not like I want to get to know him, but I’m not about to judge him with such cruelty.

"I'm sure they were, but I don't think they warred for no reason,” she adds. "Only he can tell you."

I look out her window, at the storm raging beyond. The world I live in has suddenly become terrifying and uncertain.

"I can't...I have a life, I'm not ready to be an Alpha's mate, who may very well be a murderous monster,” I blurt out.

Hazel closes the book, dragging another chair to sit in front of me.

"He's not going to stop until he has you. You saved him from a cruel fate,” she says softly. She’s trying to comfort me without being too unrealistic.

Her warning rings through my mind. There is no simple solution to this.

A pounding knock from the door has both Hazel and I jumping in our seats.

"That's him. I know it,” I whisper, trying not to alert him to my presence inside.

Hazel swallows tightly, slowly standing.

"Don't let him touch you. If he does, he could take you far away from here with his magic,” she warns quietly before confidently striding toward the door.

Jumping up from my seat, I press my back against the side wall out of view from the door. If Sire see’s me here, who knows what will happen.

Hazel opens the door a crack, peeking out.

"Can I help you?" She asks innocently, although there is nothing innocent about the way she clings to the door. If Sire looks hard enough, he will be able to tell that she is terrified of him.

"I'm looking for my mate." Sire's voice is muted by the wall and the crack of thunder that rattles the house.

I can feel myself tremble, terrified. What if he gets in here? Where would I run?

"What's her name?" Hazel asks, feigning irritation, like her sleep was interrupted by the stranger lurking outside of her home.

There's a pause before Sire speaks again.

"She didn't tell me."

"Well, I'm the only one here, so I'm afraid I cannot help you." Hazel makes to close the door, but I see a hand suddenly reach out, grabbing the door. She fights to close it, but he holds it perfectly still.

"I can sense her. She is here," Sire growls.

In one swift movement, he pushes through the door, causing Hazel to stumble back. She can't fight against him. Neither of us can.

He immediately scans the room, his gaze falling to me.

Now that I can see him standing there, in normal light, he is magnificent. He's tall and broad, taking up so much space in this small cabin. He even has to bend his head a little to avoid smacking it against the ceiling.

Thankfully he was cursed with pants on, although his shirt is missing. My eyes rove over the muscled planes of his abdomen and chest, at those haunting tattoo's.

His cold, emotionless blue eyes flicker before he strides at me.

I hold my hands out in front of me, ready to launch into an excuse. "Listen Sire-"

He doesn't bother waiting to hear my excuse, grabbing my wrist tightly. My shout of protest is cut off as the world around me starts shifting, my body feeling as though it's being sucked into the darkness that falls like a veil around us.

And then I fall.

Sire's grip on my wrist is the only anchor I have to reality as I fall through the darkness, my eyes squeezing shut as I anticipate landing. I'm going to die.

My feet do eventually hit the ground, but with much less force than I anticipate.

My knees collapse a little underneath me, although I'm quickly yanked back up to standing by Sire. Tentatively, I open my eyes.

We aren't in Hazel's cabin any longer.

I don't know where we are, but the sun is rising, casting a warm glow across the forest. The rain is gone, although all the foliage still weeps. We can't be far from home, although it's clear Sire has transported me with his magic far enough away that getting back won't be easy.

"What have you done?" I gasp out, yanking my wrist from Sire's grip.

We are in an overgrown backyard, standing before a wrecked house. It looks old, with most of its roof caved in. Plants burst out from beneath the dilapidated deck, through the crumbling walls and walls through the chimney, which is the only solid fixture of the wreck.

"I have taken you home,” Sire tells me simply, as if he’s not staring into an abandoned wreck.

“Your home has been destroyed-“

He waves his hand, and in a second, the wreck is gone, replaced instead by a magnificent manor that rears up through the canopy of the forest. The lawn is no longer overgrown, the fence now erected and immaculately painted.

My mouth falls open as I take a step back, struggling to understand what I just witnessed.

“I’m glad to see my magic remained in my slumber,” he notes.

I can practically taste the tang of magic in the air. It makes me shudder, wondering how long this place was hidden from those who may have stumbled upon it.

“You hid this?”

“I thought it would protect me and others from the other Pack that I figured was conspiring against my own members. I wanted to protect others, but I was never able to,” he explains.

He makes his way across the lawn toward the towering front door. I stay rooted in my spot.

“You can’t just expect me to stay here, Sire. I have a life,” I growl.

He pauses.

I watch him breathe in deeply, steadying himself before he shakes the tension from his strong shoulders. Then, he turns and looks over me, like he’s considering something.

“We are mates. It’s time to start your new life,” he muses.

Behind him, the house looks hauntingly beautiful. I can see why he wanted to live his life here, to protect his Pack members. But I don’t want this.

“You’re a monster..." I breathe. All the stories about him, of what Hazel told me flood back to me.

He strides back to me, not stopping until there is hardly any space between us.

“I ask you for some time, here, to prove I am not the monster you think I am. And then I shall return you,” he says. It’s not an offer, but a proclamation of what is going to happen.

I grit my teeth, my fingers bundling up into fists.

His vivid blue eyes shudder. “But I assure you, mate, you shall feel the pull of the mate bond soon, and will not be able to resist.”