Standing in the middle of destruction, his chest rising and falling, Clyde slowly raised his black vacant eyes to meet his mate who had watched him tear apart limbs and heads. She was coiled in a corner, her eyes screaming fear.
He took a step closer, disappearing into the darkness for only a brief moment before reappearing only inches away from her. He was standing before her, his soulless black eyes staring into hers. She was unable to suppress her fear and trembled beneath him.
He couldn't discern if she was terrified of the massive head he held like a trophy or his demeanor. He didn't have to know that. All he knew was that she was terrified of him. He didn't blame her. He killed eleven men, who she watched transform into unknown creatures far from humans.
He didn't kill them with a gun or knife like she intended. No. He had ripped off their heads with his hands, bathing himself with the blood of her enemies. She should, of course, be terrified of him.
Power flushed through him, in an attempt to wrap her with comfort. He didn't intend to terrify her. He feared she was too shaken to understand anything if he spoke. Or that she was planning how to launch an attack on him to defend herself.
His wolf needed to calm her. He watched as her body relaxed, and his power coaxed through her. That was the upside. The downside was that her body was too weak to absorb the power completely.
He pulled back, but it was too late. He stared as her eyes struggled to remain open. Slowly, her hands fell limply beside her as her muscles rested, and she fell silently to the ground.
But she wasn't dead, as her heartbeat continued to pierce the silence of the night.
With a deep breath, Clyde threw his trophy to the ground before stooping low to gather a motionless Emma into his arms. His heart flipped in his chest, and a strange sensation trickled through him as he stared at her.
Since the six years he had discovered she was his mate, he had never had any physical contact with her.
She didn't fit into his idea of a perfect mate, but she was beautiful and fierce. She had managed to remain alive longer than any human who encountered eleven werewolves at a time. But she was still human, weak, and too feeble to defend herself or lead a pack.
Clyde carried her in his arms while he made his way out of the warehouse. Before midnight, Carrington would be aware that some of his pack members were slaughtered gruesomely. A cold smile appeared on his face.
With calculated agility and swift movement, Clyde reached Emma's apartment in a few minutes. Of course, he knew where his human mate lived. There was rarely any night he didn't visit her.
He had developed a habit of watching her sleep, listening to the sound of her unladylike snores and the gentle rhythm of her beating heart. She lived alone and had no desire for a relationship, which to his surprise, pleased him.
Clyde went into one of the bedrooms as if he were very familiar with it. He probably was. He placed her on the bed as soon as he walked in, and hurried to find materials to clean her up. There were plenty of things in the room that an inexperienced werewolf could use.
He usually spent time in the company of humans, but it posited that he had done so only when he was watching over his mate. He knew nothing about dressing injuries or the sort of plants humans used to heal themselves.
Werewolves could heal at a very fast rate and if that wasn't impressive enough, he was an Alpha, so he healed faster and rarely ever needed any treatment.
That's why he couldn't think of anything to use on her. He needed to at least stop the bleeding. He picked her up again, carrying her to the bathroom and placing her in the tub.
He hissed as the first blast of water hit him too. He washed her hair, which was tangled and drenched with her blood, then proceeded to her neck, his movement brisk and efficient.
He tore her overalls off and gently maneuvered her arms and legs out of the holes. He stopped and studied every inch of her nakedness, a jolt of heat rushing through him. He was distracted for a second.
Concentrating again on cleaning her up, his hands settled on her thighs as he washed the dried blood off her skin. Did he think he was doing a good job? Yes, he did.
After a few minutes, he managed to clean her up and stopped the bleeding. He scooped her out of the tub and laid her back on the bed. He gave himself credit for dressing her in one of her comfortable clothing. He gave the same hurried attention to her body as he clothed her, ignoring the ache in his body
Clyde stared at the young girl lying on the bed. His eyes lingered on her legs, dark bruises and cuts appearing all over her creamy skin. He didn't know what had caused her to do such a stupid thing, but he knew she was desperate for something.
So desperate that she could risk her life. He didn't know what it was about, but he wondered if it was worth risking her life.
She was pretty enough to be wanted by several humans. She smelled like wet morning daisies, but she was not one as fragile as a flower.
He knew that beneath her outward fragile demeanor, there was something far fiercer, more intense and stronger than the way she appeared.
Why else would she risk her life to break into a warehouse? Why would she continuously put herself in danger to seek justice for other people? It was something that they both had in common. He protected his pack and she protected hers.
Though she was strong in her way, he still did not understand why the moon goddess had matched their souls together. He had seen far more powerful and beautiful women in his lifetime.
He didn't desire a human. Her features were pleasant, attractive even, but not refined. Her brown eyes were full of warmth and passion. Yet, they also appeared cold, curious and dangerous sometimes. Her skin was smooth and creamy, like caramel.
Her lips were pink and lush, but the fight had left them swollen. Her hair, scrubbed free of its blood coating, was now a light-brown color. She was skinny, her collar bones stuck sharply out and her bones were prominent at odd places. She was so unguarded, so innocent and human.
Clyde set his jaw as he continued to watch her. She wasn't his type. The typical Luna he desired was fierce and powerful. They lavished hours hunting down enemies of the pack and slitting their throats. Emily Hales, his ex-lover. Agnes or Mathilde.
Wolves who knew how to fight and defend their pack, who would bring more honor to his name, who would bring him the head of his enemies at night, and make love to him aggressively.
And most importantly, they would conceive a strong and future Alpha of the pack.
His mate, on the other hand, spent hours in the police department, reading through files and hunting petty humans. She could not fight and clearly saw her gun as her survival asset.
She wasn't just a kind human, she was the sort to run two blocks breathlessly after a man's car to return a wallet full of cash. She was the type to raise a rabbit in her apartment and treat the animal like her offspring. She was not fit to be a Luna.
Now, even though Clyde had long since planned to mark her, his body still felt tight with uncertainty whenever he thought of revealing himself to her. He had tried to convince himself that she would understand.
That she wouldn't, she wouldn't attempt to shoot him in the head.
His throat closed. How could he explain to her that she couldn't live an ordinary human life? That she would have to quit her job, as a matter of fact, and join him to lead a group of werewolves? How could he explain that even though he looked like he was in his early thirties, he had lived three hundred and four years? How to explain that, even though he seemed like a human, he wasn't?
He sighed, looking down at her again, his expression unreadable. She looked so young, sleeping. Had he ever been that young? He suddenly felt an unwelcome desire to take care of her. To love her.
Strong emotions, he realized in shock. He hadn't felt that in a long time.
Rising to his feet, he turned away from her sleeping form. He walked towards the window as he intended not to use the door. Once he was far away from her, his calming wolf power would fade out. But she was in her home and protected.
He put a foot out cautiously while the rest of his body was hanging in her room, holding the window frame.
With one last look at his mate, he was gone. The whooshing sound of the wind followed his movement.
But he would return.
Emma's eyelid fluttered, then flew open. She was covered in a cold sweat, her heart pounding as she glanced around the room, paranoid that the horror in her dream may have followed her back. Fortunately, she was alone. A low groan escaped her lips as she tried to turn on the bed. She was hurting, but she hadn't realized it until then. She stared down at herself. She was still fully dressed. She had been sleeping on her bed, in her brightly colored room flooded with light. But something wasn't right. The first indication of that was her bruised body. Her head ached with pain and her neck had weird scratch marks. She didn't remember getting into a fight or changing into the pajamas she had woken up with. The second was her bedsheet, which was covered in blood stains. Looking around her room, her eyes caught her overall, lying close to the bathroom door, and the memories of her night flooded her mind instantly. She hadn't been dreaming. It was all real. The attack, the creatures, th
She muttered something under her breath as she walked into the building, mentally prepared to face her boss and partner. But as she walked in, the chaos and tension in the air told her that she might after all slip and walk away unnoticed. Emma watched as people darted back and forth within the department. Heads were huddled together in a corner as they spoke in low tones discussing an event or occurrence that seemed to hold much importance. Her boss was speaking to someone on the phone, pacing hurriedly in his office and her partner's attention was undivided as he read through files. 'Serial Killer...' her ears picked up from the group in the corner. Emma swallowed heavily, she had no idea what had happened but she knew it was devastating. She prayed silently, that it wasn't as gruesome as everyone's reaction made it seem.Walking to her partner at his desk, she greeted him. "Morning Allen, How are you?..."Looking up at her, he replied immediately. "Where have you been all morning
She remembered how these men had transformed into weird creatures before her eyes. She remembered how they howled and fought like beasts. She had remembered the furs, the extended limbs and the claws. But yet, none of the pictures captured these details. Was she hallucinating? It was impossible to believe otherwise as she stared at the pictures of eleven murdered humans. "I'm leaving..." Emma jumped in surprise as Allen tapped her shoulders. "Are you okay?.." He asked, observing her shocked expression. "Ummmm...Yeah..." She lied. "I was just reading through the files. This is a very bizarre case...""Well, the autopsy results would be ready tomorrow and we'll probably have a lead..." He sighed. "For now, I'm heading home...""Ok. I'm just going to stay back for a while..." Emma said leaning casually against her chair. "I think I have some other files to review..."Allen nodded, then strode hurriedly away. There were several thoughts in her mind as she watched him leave. She shook he
Clyde took a brisk step backwards, letting himself sit comfortably on her bed. "You might want to sit down for this....""No, thank you..." "It's your bedroom, Emma Watson..." He replied with an injured expression. "You should sit...""No. I. Don't. Want. To. Sit. On. The. Bed..." She replied firmly. "Or close to you..." She finally breathed. "Why? You think I'm a monster?..." He was amused. Did she think backing away from him could stop him if he desired to kill her? She would have been dead the minute she walked in if he intended to kill her. She blinked. "You killed those men..." It wasn't a question. He didn't think so. It was an affirmation that she did think of him as a monster. "Did I commit a crime?...""The murders are being investigated...""Are they now?..." The air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. There was a slight tone of mockery and mischief in his last question. Her words were clipped. "I ask again..." She drew her breath. "What are you doing here?...""I
He didn't intend to transform fully for fear that she would pass out. He just had to show her that he wasn't what he looked like. Clyde watched as she took unwilling steps backwards as his werewolf features began to surface. She was nearly wheezing, nearly hyperventilating as his bones began to crunch. He watched as she tried to remain brave but she was coming apart. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flared with the force of rapid breathing. She jumped with fright as a low growl escaped his mouth. With just a little transformation, Emma only stared at him motionlessly. He had expected her to scream, he had been prepared to stifle a thundering cry for help. But she however did neither. She remained unmoving, her eyes focused on him. Sensing that she had seen enough of what he intended for her to see, Clyde began to slowly shift back to his human form. He was surprised that she hasn't flung her purse at him or run out. But perhaps, because she had seen worse within the past hours. E
His eyes searched her face for any reaction when he stopped speaking. Surprisingly, she burst into fits of laughter. Clyde's eyebrows twisted with fury and he clenched his fists. "You find what I say funny?..." Giggling, she nodded. "Yes, I do. How long did you have to rehearse this?..." But he wasn't amused. And he was certainly struggling to bottle up his anger. He did not doubt that if she pushed him again, he would lose it. She shook her head with gusto. "No?..." And then silence settled over the room as she realized that he was indeed telling the truth. It was like the true meaning of his words caught the light in her head. There was not a glimmer of amusement or smile around Clyde's face. His chiseled face was rigid, bearing visible anger as he focused his gaze on her. "You're not joking..." She admitted. Clyde wondered if his expression had ever pointed out that he could be joking. He wondered if she had gone blind for the minute he had shifted before her. As much as he f
Emma stared at the files before her, which contained the autopsy report. It had arrived early that morning and caused turmoil in the office. The result was shocking and incredibly unbelievable, yet, she somehow had expected it. The result revealed the men were killed by an animal attack. It raised so many controversies amongst everyone but she remained quiet. Clyde was right. He was right all along. Her gaze landed on Allen, her partner. He was stomping around the place furiously. Allen was a perfectionist who had no desire to fall back on any case he started. So when the much-awaited autopsy had returned with no lead except that the men were killed by a rabid animal, Allen had lost it. He had marched to Jeffrey, Emma's boss, with a file that contained a thousand reasons he believed the autopsy was wrong. He didn't believe the result and Emma feared no one did. But the results had left everyone shaken and speechless. Silently, within her heart, she knew she doubted the certainty of
Folklore Wiki had described them as cursed creatures with attributed strength and speed far beyond those of wolves or men. Emma had paused her reading to recall the night she was almost killed. She recalled the agility and speed of the men that attacked her and how the workers seemed to be faster even in their human form. She had found that they were quick to temper whenever threatened or challenged and were far more brutal than their human appearance suggested. The true understanding of Clyde's words sank deep into her. She had managed to remain alive for a few minutes and they were barely challenged to fight her. She had also learned that they aged slowly and could live for hundreds of years. She had imagined how many of them were in Minnesota and how long they had to live to infect more people. With each discovery, she felt like the world she had been living in was merely a lie. 'You're my mate...'The words rang in her head continuously like a bell. She was his soulmate. She dis