Saved by the King

Seventeen*

//Unknown//

I had a plan.

Granted, it wasn't a very good plan. No, it was a good plan, it just wasn't completely developed yet. I had a few details to work out, a few key pieces to place.

I was going to lure that bitch right out of his clutches. Take her away, far, far away. He'll go crazy with her gone; that weakling won't be able to function. I'll draw it out for a bit; the longer she's gone, the more he'll lose control. I'll make sure to make her feel some pain, just enough for him to feel it through the Bond, just enough for him to know that the both of them are utterly and completely at my mercy.

And then, I'll kill her.

He'll feel it. He'll know immediately; he'll sense it the exact second that his precious little mate's life trickles away. Oh, I was getting shivers just thinking about that moment. All of this, everything I've been through will all be worth it as I watch the light fade out of that runt's eyes, as I watch the blood spill from her weak, pathetic body.

And then he'll go with her.

There was no question about it; as soon as he feels that his little mate is gone, he'll either die from the grief or kill himself outright. If neither of those things happen, someone else will kill him. It's commonly accepted among wolves; if one's mate dies, the merciful thing to do is kill the other.

But that will all have to wait. Haste makes waste. I'll have to be patient, watchful, secretive. It will all be worth it, in the end, when I am the downfall of the king of wolves.

**

//Carter//

I pushed Logan away from me, my face flushing in embarrassment. I can't believe I was going to kiss him. I can not believe I was going to kiss him.

The most surprising part was that I wanted to. I'd never wanted to do anything like that with anyone; I've been forced plenty of times, but this time was different.

This time was different. All the other times I've ever been touched by a male in any way were surrounded by fear, pain, panic, helplessness, sweat, alcohol, tight spaces, tear-stained cheeks. There was no choice. With Logan, the only word I could think of to describe it was soft. His arm, though hard with thick muscle, was gentle around my waist, applying a feather-light pressure. He moved slowly, more slowly than he normally did around me. He was light, ready to move back at the slightest sign that I didn't want to continue.

I liked Logan. Again, that was new to me. He's funny, and warm, and despite his size he's gentle when he touches me. I'd never felt like this before with anyone; I didn't even know that I could feel like this. I didn't even know that liking someone applied to me anymore. Fearing males had been seared into my brain over and over and over ever since I was little; I remember what I used to tell myself. He's a male, Carter, what did you expect? That's what males do, Carter, why are you surprised?

But Logan didn't fit in that mold. Whenever he touched me, it felt like he was trying not to break something delicate. Besides what resulted from the rogue attack, I haven't been hurt once since I arrived at Gwinn Forest. I'd only ever been touched softly, and he'd never once gotten angry.

Logan was angry, now, but not at me. He was glaring at this 13-year old boy with exasperation. What struck me was that this stranger looked like an exact replica of Logan, only younger, smaller, and with striking blue eyes.

I quickly connected the dots. "This is your brother?"

The boy snorted. "Wow, way to go, big guy. You didn't even tell her about me?"