The Hunted

Eleven

Amanda forced Red out of the room as she and her father had fought to save his Mate's life. Henry and Lucy had arrived within moments, quickly followed by Monroe and Toby. All of them waiting to see if Red's human Mate would survive.

The healers bought her time but both Dwayne and Amanda were unfamiliar with human physiology and didn't know the exact specifics of what her body needed to heal. Not when werewolves usually healed so rapidly, rarely needing medical intervention unless in extreme cases. Red didn't think they'd ever even had a case of blood poisoning before.

And before Red had even had the chance to ask, Henry had been on the phone speaking with Ejo. The warlock was an old friend of Henry's. They'd met at various shadow world functions over the years and the warlock had taken up a residence in Los Angeles offering magical healing talismans to the world's elite.

Red was grateful for that connection – that friendship. For only five minutes later, a portal had opened and Ejo had stepped through into the clinic, bypassing the pack's wards on Henry's authority.

The warlock often used magic to glamour his true appearance – which was a five-foot-ten tall man with skin the colour of lavender – but he'd appeared before them as he truly was. Dressed in a black silk kimono and jeans, he'd dashed into the exam room, leaving the rest of them behind.

Including Red who'd just stood there and stared at the closed door for what felt like hours. His mind had been quiet and empty in a way that it had never been before. He kept seeing visions of her eyes – the way they'd looked the first time he'd seen her.

Grey. Storm clouds on a cool winter morning. Such strange eyes and when he'd seen her collapsed on the ground in her cell...Red had wondered if he'd ever see those eyes open again.

And though the bond between them was weak, one-sided and non-solidified – a bridge that led to nowhere – Red was sure that if she died, he would too.

So seeing her now, eyes open, heartbeat strong...Even if she hated him, at least she was alive. It was all that really mattered.

Henry clapped Red on the shoulder. "We needed Ejo here, anyways. He agreed to weave some wards into the wall as we try to figure out why it's failing on us. Ejo said that it's a temporary solution. His wards won't last forever but they should keep out our enemies for the time being."

"Good. We'll keep up on the same patrol schedule just in case."

"Do you think the hunters will come back to rescue her?"

"No. That's why she's so intent on killing herself. She knows that no one is coming back."

Henry heaved a breath as they broke through the treeline, entering into the main strip of their little town. He steered Red towards the one restaurant the pack had – so simple that it was just named 'The Diner.'

They sat in a booth by the corner and their waitress, Shayla – a fifteen-year-old she-wolf whose mother Reba ran the diner – took their orders. The Diner was busy, as it always was on Saturday mornings, though this week there were a few noticeable faces missing.

Red didn't linger his thoughts on those missing souls. Or the reason that they were no longer in attendance. Didn't want to remember the night he'd burned the bodies of twelve wolves beneath the moon because it was a hard thing to reconcile. The grief and guilt he felt for their deaths intermixed with the unexpected joy of finding his Mate.

When Shayla disappeared off to the kitchen, Henry said, "The man had realized it as well. He was refusing to divulge more information but if I'm being honest, I don't think he knew much else. The last thing he told me was that your Mate was leading one of their tactical assault teams. And that she seemed friendly with the leaders."