A Runaway Mate

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Rebel’s Point of View.

            I stood alone in the immense, tattered warehouse. It looked as if it could collapse at any moment, various types of trash loitered about. Empty gas cans and metallic barrels scattered about, just as Jaxson had said. The floor was a sandy, tan dirt, and I wondered what the building was used for. I glanced out of a shattered window, seeing that it was dark outside. Dark and cold. Before I had showed, thunder clouds loomed overhead, threatening to storm any minute.

            My feet kicked the dirt around, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. My hands shook from fear of the unknown and what was to come. I mentally cursed the cold draft that wafted about, my knees knocking together. Alone with my own mind to keep me company, I ran over the plan, hoping everything would work out and I would walk away unstaved. I would return to Finn as a hero and a free woman. I wouldn’t be fighting a war that wasn’t even my own, and that thought alone is what gave me a flicker of courage.

            An army of footsteps echoed from outside, momentarily stunning me. Fear flared inside me, but I pushed it to the side to conjure up pure adrenaline. I thoguht Tate was the only one. The door slid open, revealing numerous dirty faces. Their feet scuffled across the dirt ground, their clothes torn and black Omega tattoos inked into their arms. My eyes scanned over their sad, haunted faces until one caused me to loose breath.

            My childhood best friend, Daniel, stood amongst the crowd. His light brown hair that was always cut short had grown, his body filled with lean muscle. He stood tall but his back was slightly hunched. A sad smile twitched at his mouth, and at that moment I knew. I knew that everyone here was against their own will. Fear swam in their eyes, something I lacked to notice before. Most of them had silver scars drawn into their skin, most likely due to Tate. I didn’t expect him to have a pack standing with him, but I knew that they loathed Tate nearly as much as I did.

            Tate strutted in, the pack splitting down the middle to make room for him. Some members lingered outside, waiting to catch me if I attempted to run. When Tate reached me, he wrapped his arms around my waist.

            My hand reached to his chest, unnoticeably trying to push him back. “I didn’t know you had a pack.”

            “Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “I was born to lead.”

            It was an Omega pack, just as Jaxson had told me at his house. “It’s not unheard of,” his voice echoed in my head. “Werewolves have a mentality of being in a pack—it’s almost a necessity for us—so Omegas usually band together.”

            My mind went back to the two Omegas that attacked me before Finn came to safety. I glanced to Tate, my eyes unconsciously narrowing. “So were those two Omegas that attacked me come from this pack?”

            Tate scratched the back of his neck. “They weren’t supposed to harm you, but yes.” He counldn't hold eye contact with me. He was lying. “I had an inkling that you were here, but I didn’t want to cross into anyone’s territory.”

            “They left permanent marks on my back, you know.” Once again I paid for Tate’s carelessness. My anger flared, and Tate had sensed it for his own eyes narrowed. He grabbed my wrist roughly, no doubt tight enough to leave bruises. “I told them not to, but they were Omegas who had a hard time listening. I knew that Finn was going to tear them to shreds and that’s why I sent those two. Now that you’ve made me upset, we’re leaving. Now.”