A Runaway Mate

Chapter Ten. ✓

Finn's Point of View.

   Instantly, I shot off the couch at the sound of Rebel’s scream. My heart leapt in my throat, fear seizing me as terror radiated in my chest from Rebel. 

   Reaching the kitchen in a matter of seconds, my vision was met with Rebel standing on the kitchen table. When she heard me, her head snapped in my direction, her finger pointing to the ground. “Fucking kill it!” she screamed at me. 

   Looking down and seeing a smashed plate with food lying around, my eyes saw the thing that terrified her so badly. A spider, no bigger than the size of my fingernail, laid next to the dropped food. My shoulders sagged as I let out a breath of relief. It was just a spider. My Wolf let out a contented sigh, happy to see his mate wasn’t in any real danger. 

   Looking back up at Rebel, her hazel eyes met mine. “It’s just a spider, babe--” I cut off my sentence as the word stumbled out of my mouth. My eyes widened as I gauged Rebel’s reaction. 

   “Just a spider?” Her eyes narrowed, the word flying over her head and out of mind. “That thing is like a fucking wolf!” 

   Amusement filled me, a small smile appearing on my face. Now she was comparing spiders to wolves. 

   “No offense or anything," she added after a second thought. 

   My head shook as I carefully walked to the counter, not wanting to spook the spider so it crawled off. Grabbing a paper plate and cup, I used my Werewolf abilities to place the cup over the spider before it had time to react. Sliding the plate under, I stood up. Rebel’s face scrunched up in disgust as she leaned back away from me.

   Walking to the front door, Peter, a pack member opened it. My head nodded, giving him a silent thank you and let the spider free. 

   Returning to the kitchen, Rebel was still standing on the table, her small fist balled into the shirt she wore. Her fear was gone, making me less on edge. Walking up to her, I noticed her smirk as she looked down at me. 

   “Now who’s taller?” she said smugly. 

   I smiled as my head shook at her. Holding out a hand, she hesitated before she grabbed it. Fire-hot sparks shot through my hand, almost making me jump. The heat traveled up my arm, weaving deeply into my muscles. Her tiny feet stepped to the edge of the table and my arm raised to wrap around her waist, being mindful of the still healing stitches. She was slightly stunned by my actions, but thankfully, she brushed it off. Setting her on the ground, she sighed as she looked to the dirt covered food. Slowly, a smirk twitched at her lips, something swimming around in her random little head. 

   She looked to the kitchen entrance which was filled with the curious stares from the pack. “Knifey!” she yelled for Mark. 

   Frantic footsteps could be hear then Mark appeared a second later. My eyebrows raised, surprised he actually came to the sound of the nickname Rebel gave him. Mark’s face looked flustered as he noticed me and Rebel. April, Mark’s mate, stood at the entrance close to him.  

   “Clean this up,” Rebel said, pointing to the broken plate and food. 

   Mark looked down at the mess, then threw his head hack and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Man,” he said, dragging out the word.

   Everyone started laughing, even April. Looking back over a Rebel, she mouthed a thanks. Smiling at her, my head nodded.

   After Mark was done with cleaning the mess he stomped back upstairs, April still laughing at him. The pack dispersed, leaving me and Rebel to head to my room. She sat on the bed while I sat at the leather chair at my desk.