The Resilient Mate

Chapter Eight.

As I walked through the house I could feel the judgmental, condescending stares and glares from the pack; and I knew why. They could smell that I was pregnant; werewolf senses and all that jazz.

Their looks didn’t faze me though; I didn’t care what they thought anymore and if someone said something they’d soon find that I had a temper that could match a wolf’s any day.

I walked into the kitchen and drank a big glass of water. I’d managed to keep water and crackers down over the past few days but everything else came up in less than an hour. I took a seat at the breakfast bar and rested my forehead against the counter. I was so bored! I hadn’t been working out before I felt sick and there was literally nothing else to do.

I heard Pierre and I groaned. I didn’t want to have to deal with people today. An idea struck me and I raced up to my room. I changed into a pair of cargo pants, boots and simple singlet. I holstered my gun around my thigh and slid a knife into my boot, grabbing my Camelbak which is a backpack that holds water. I strode down to the kitchen, grabbing a packet of crackers and filled up the bottle in the bag.

“Where are you going Eve?” Ace asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“For a walk.” A very long walk through the mountains where none of the pack members would bother me; the best kind of walk.

He leant against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “With who?”

I turned off the tap and turned to my over protective father. I raised an eyebrow and mirrored his stance. “No one.”

I could literally feel all eyes on me as dad’s eyes grew stormy. “Pierre will go with you; you are not going by yourself. You are human and don’t have the mind link, you can’t protect yourself against a wolf and no matter how good our patrols are, there are always rouges.”

Faster than anyone could register I had dropped my seven foot father to the ground and was holding a knife to his throat. He wheezed in pain from where I’d kicked him as I pressed the blade into his skin slightly. “I am a trained soldier and captain of a team of over a dozen men; I have fought in wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, taken down terrorist groups and killed more men than I can count. So tell me again that I can’t protect myself.” I growled.

No one moved, no one made a sound as I slowly drew back. Dad’s eyes were wide as he slowly sat up and pressed a hand to where a drop of blood marred his tanned skin. I held his gaze until he stood. Slowly I moved my cold gaze around the pack; I’d just dropped one of the highest ranking members of their pack. Now they knew I was not to be messed with.

“I don’t need Pierre to protect me.”

With that I sheathed my knife in my boot and pulled on the bag. “Don’t wait up.”  

I knew that he wanted to protest and that he’d probably send Pierre with me anyway, but he wouldn’t do it in front of the pack; I’d just emasculated him in front of the wolves who were meant to look up to him and I knew that it was more his ego that had taken a beating.

I walked out the front door of the pack house and straight into the tree line. It was a beautiful summer day and the air was warm and crisp. I felt happier being away from everyone, on my own again.

I must have walked for hours, scaling the high hills and cliff faces. Because Jenna had built the pack house so deep in the alps that no humans would ever find them, I could go wherever I wanted without seeing another human being.

My body was sore when I took a break. The few weeks I’d been sick had really taken a toll on my body. I needed to get back into better shape; anything less was unacceptable. In the army once you passed the physical tests that was it; you were responsible for your own fitness and it was in your own hands as to whether you were fit enough to survive.