The Rogue and Her Mate

Two

I see it off in the distance. A rundown house tucked away in a meadow flanked by a small shed. What do sheds have? Rope.

I drop the man against a tree and approach the small structure stealthily. As I grow closer it's clear by the state of the house it's abandoned. Most of the windows are boarded up and those that aren't have been shattered. No light illuminates from within, though it's barely dawn. Closer still I hear no telltale signs of life. No recent human scent. A quick peek in the shed reveals some tattered ropes suitable for my purposes.

I'm relieved to find the pack wolf still unconscious. He is a gray mucky mess, but his wound appears healed. I lean him forward to add the ropes around his wrists and am met with blunt force trauma to the face. I fall back with a curse, barely rolling away as he attempts to throw his body atop me.

I pull his bound arms up and kneel on his back. He grunts in pain as I bend his arms unnaturally, securing the ropes before moving to his legs.

I decide to drag him to the house by his feet, not wanting to give him an opportunity for another attack.

He glares at me viciously when I turn him over. I nearly trip as I stare into his dark green eyes with golden brown flecks. I clear my head with a shake while thwarting his attempt at a sit up, pulling his legs up and tugging him after me. I can feel him boring a hole into my already bruised face. All the while he mumbles something through his gag, but I ignore him.

The door is kicked in easily, revealing dust, cobwebs, and forest debris, along with sparse broken and worn-out furnishings. I pull him into a bathroom just off the living room, then closes him in, leaning against the door. I slide to the floor, resting my face in my palms, instantly pulling away at the strong stench of the salve.

I can hear him trashing and his mumbled yells through the door and I'm tempted to choke him out again. But there's something about his mumbles, his voice and just his presence, even through the door, that makes me feel inexplicably safe.

I would actually much prefer the door to be open, for our skin to be touching again. I shake my head, flinging away these thoughts.

I need a plan. I can't stay here as tempting and convenient as it may be. I'll need a lot more distance between the wolf's pack and me. I need to make distance and I need to make it fast which means transport. Preferably plane. That's how mom and I made clean breaks. Nearly impossible to follow the scent. Obviously not an option with the man along. Even if I could get them to let me on with a tied-up guy, he would need ID. TSA would be much more concerned with his lack of ID.

I tense at the sudden silence. He's stopped struggling. Has he broken free? I doubt it. I tie a decent knot and rope is strong. Eventually he will wear it down though.

I crack the door, watching the chest of the otherwise still figure rise and fall. After a moment he lifts his head enough to glare at me. Staring into those dark green eyes my resolve doubles.

He's mine.

I fetch more rope, tying him around the base of the sink with disturbingly little resistance. I tie his leg binds around the toilet next, then close him in. Pushing the tattered couch in front of the bathroom door, I sprawl out on it for a restless sleep.

I'm confident the salve will mask our scent enough that the wolves won't be able to track us right away. I would wear it all the time if it weren't an eye sore and consisting of a ghastly antisocial aroma.

I awake, at what I figures is mid-day, when the sun makes its way to my eyes through one of the shattered windows. I push the couch away, opening the bathroom door cautiously.

My captive appears to be fast asleep, his head resting on the bathroom floor, and his arms still secured behind him. His black hair is matted with salve and blood along with most of his face, but somehow, he's the most beautiful man I have ever seen. His thick lashes flutter, flakes of grey mush falling to his cheeks.

His eyes fly open, and he jerks away from me while mumbling something.

I glare at him, considering whether to knock him unconscious again. He's easier to carry that way.

As I lift my leg, aiming my heel for his face, his expression changes. The softening of his green eyes causing me to falter. I lower my leg and listen to him mumble earnestly for a moment. His face is even more beautiful when he isn't glaring.

I pull down the gag and he smacks his lips, scrunching up his nose distastefully. I stifle a smile, finding it adorable.

"You don't have to knock me out. I'll walk." He claims, his voice like fur in my mind. Soft, warm, and oh so comforting. I sigh as it enters my ears.

"And why would you do that?" I ask, turning away from his distracting beauty while keeping him in my peripherals in case he tries anything. Mostly I don't want him to see the effect he's having on me.

"Because I don't want to be knocked unconscious." He replies with a matter of fact air.

"Alright, but I reserve the right to choke you out at any time." I concede, biting my tongue at the small cheeky smile that tries to play on my lips.

"As is your right, as my abductor." He replies sardonically, shifting in an attempt to relieve some of the discomfort of his ever stiffening back from the unnatural way his arms are being held.

His words sober me. I had been enjoying our conversation. Almost forgetting that he is an unwilling pack wolf participant, that would sooner break my neck then kiss it. I flinch at my own thought, digging my nails into my palm to steady myself. 

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