Red
The jailhouse was hidden in the outskirts of pack territory, deep in the forest where it was impossible to find unless one knew exactly where it was. From the outside, it looked like nothing. A ramshackle one-story wooden building that had a terrible lean to it. Everything about the building screamed derelict – from the broken glass in the windows to the peeling paint on the door. What wasn't obvious from the exterior were the sophisticated cells and thick reinforcements that would keep anyone from breaking in or out.
Technically, Red's office was inside of the jailhouse. He'd never used it, instead setting up shop in a room down the hall from Henry's office in the pack house. As the Lead Warrior, he was responsible for any person who ended up inside of his jail, not that he'd had to deal with many inhabitants before. The odd rogue causing issues near to pack territory or a packmate who'd gotten too rowdy or drunk and needed a night alone to quiet down were about as lively as the cells got these days.
He'd flipped through the records once in boredom and during the era of Henry's great-grandfather, the cells had been home to more than a few vampires, a handful of warlocks, and one particularly nasty harpy that had come from Greece to America on a vacation and had been terrorizing hikers in the woods.
It had never housed a human before.
Not until now, anyways.
His Mate's scent, vanilla and bourbon and something spicy he couldn't put his finger on, had laced its way through the forest. The trail was two-days old and slightly less potent. To another wolf, it might not even be relevant enough to scent unless actively searching for it.
To Red it was like a drug. He was finely attuned to the scent of it, his instincts guiding him forward towards the person that waited on the other end of the trail.
He knew that he should have been at the jailhouse earlier. Every miniscule cell in his body had been straining to come to her from the moment she'd been led away. But there had been greater things at stake than wasting time fawning after her as his body and mind longed to do.
Instead, Red had left his warriors guarding the cell and allowed Henry the first opportunity to speak with her. Speak, Red had tried to remind himself. Not interrogate. Not torture. Speak.
Though from what Red had heard, the chat hadn't gone well. Henry had sent Red off to speak with Lehna in Denver to see if the fae had figured out a way to patch the hole yet. The fae still had no new updates on how to fix it but Lehna, having been updated on the attack, was putting renewed desperation into her search.
Red had even reached out to a few warlocks, hoping to implement some magical warding as a temporary solution until they figured out whatever shit was going down with the wall, but so far none had gotten back to him.
So Red had spent time thinking. Wracking his brain for an answer, any answer, that would explain how the humans had fractured the wall.
It was one of the answers that they'd been trying, unsuccessfully, to get from either of the hunters. The man had sworn that he didn't know how it had happened – that he'd just been told to arrive and join in on the hunt. No questions asked, no hesitations.
The woman hadn't even spoken. That was all Henry had said over the phone when Red had called from Denver to ask how the conversation had gone. There had been barely checked fury in the Alpha's voice, the tone so dark that Red had driven a little faster back to Sanguis Ridge from Denver. Just in case.
He'd ditched the car and now he was here, paused outside the door to the jail. Red took a deep breath, one meant to steady himself but only made the situation worse as he breathed in her scent again. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he felt his heart begin to thunder in his chest in nervous anticipation.
Strange to think that only a few days ago, Lucy had been pestering him to leave. To search the world to find his Mate. Red had never thought that she'd show up here. Especially not like this.
Red flung the door open and stepped inside of the building. He prowled across the floor towards a second heavy metal door on the far side of the office space. Six inches thick of solid, impenetrable metal – a precaution in case the cells ever housed anything more dangerous than a drunk pack member.
The secondary door opened easily beneath Red's grip, revealing an old wooden staircase. A few of the planks creaked when stepped on. Red had been meaning to replace them for years but had never gotten around to it. Each step he took could be heard echoing throughout the cell block and the murmured conversation below fell silent.
His warriors had put her in the cell that was the farthest away from the door. On the complete opposite side of the hallway was the cell housing the human man. Red was able to scent him too but there was nothing remarkable there. Licorice and terror.
Henry had ordered two wolves on each human at all time. At the far end of the cellblock where the man was were Deacon and Evander. Both of them looked bored, as if they may fall asleep at any moment.
Guarding the woman were Phillip and Li – two of Red's best. Strong fighters with good instincts who never backed down despite their young age. Phillip, at twenty-two, was so naturally skilled that he often outpaced fighters with twenty-years-experience and training. Li was two years older than Phillip and though he lacked in natural skill, he made up for it with pure determination. It wasn't uncommon to find him training earlier and longer than others.
Li nodded to him as he approached. "Hey."
Red jerked his head to the door they were guarding. It was just as thick as the door at the top of the stairs and opened from the outside only. There was a sliding plate on the door that could be moved in order to see inside. His heart began to thunder in his chest, knowing that she was on the other side of that door.
Even if Henry hadn't asked him to come and talk to her, Red's primal instincts would have ordered him inside. Her scent was worse here, thick and all-consuming. It infiltrated his lungs, settled into his blood.
"How is she?" Red asked them.
Phillip snorted and leaned against the wall. "Feral."
"What?" He looked from Phillip to Li.
Li's face was solemn and a grave look entered his brown eyes. "Feral is a good word to describe her. This one is worse than a rogue. She didn't eat or drink anything we gave her and she's got all these injuries from the fighting that she won't let us heal. The girl's gotta be in pain, Red. Some of the wounds look serious. Vic cut her up pretty bad. Her arm smells like it's infected but she won't let us help. She mostly just stalks around the cell snarling at anyone who gets too close or tries to talk to her."
"Have you seen the Alpha today?" Phillip asked and Red shook his head. Phillip grinned, teeth flashing. "That's probably a good thing. Li and I went in with her this morning to give her food and see if she'd warm up to us. No dice. So, the Alpha decided that he'd give it a shot about an hour ago but she's stubborn. He was asking her questions and she was saying nothing but he got too close and she raked her nails right across his face. I swear to the goddess, Red, if she wasn't your Mate, she'd be dead right now."
"Henry had us cuff her hands together after she scratched him so she can't do it again to anyone," Li added.
"She's that much of a problem?" Red asked, surprised. "She's just a human. And an injured one at that."
"Well, she managed to draw blood. She's lucky that he didn't kill her. Or maybe that's what she was hoping for."
Red was concerned by all that he was hearing. The injuries, refusal to drink water or eat food, trying to goad an Alpha wolf into attacking her. It truly seemed as if she were trying to get herself killed.
A cold feeling shot through Red at the mere thought of it but he chased most of it away. He didn't even know the girl and yet thinking that she could die...That her life could just end before he'd even had the chance to speak with her...It terrified him.
"I didn't know humans could get this bad," Li muttered. "No wonder our ancestors went into hiding. If one of them is this unpleasant, imagine how bad billions of them would be if they found out about us."
Red couldn't find it in himself to disagree, even if the woman inside was his by fate. Not as he remembered the friends he'd had to put in the ground two days ago.
"You going to talk to her?" Li asked then. He pushed his hand through his crop of chestnut hair. It was long and shaggy, in dire need of a trim. Red had half a mind to go find a pair of shears to shave some off.
"Yeah," Red said and sighed. "Hopefully I come away from this conversation better than our Alpha."
"I don't envy you, Red," Phillip said. "I'm glad she's not my problem."
Problem. That's what Red's Mate was. A problem. To the Alpha and the pack and every supernatural being that existed. She was a problem.
But she was his problem to deal with. Which meant that he had to figure out what to do with her. Whether to let her live or allow Henry to kill her.
The thoughts rattled around Red's brain as he unlocked the door with the key that Li handed him and opened it. He paused as her scent washed over him and then ploughed head-first into the room and the door shut behind him.
The first thing he noticed was the upturned blue plastic bowl and cup at the edge of the toilet bowl. Evidently, she'd tossed it down the toilet and left the bowl for him to clean up. Fine. It wasn't anything he hadn't already anticipated from Phillip and Li's forewarning.
And then his eyes rose to her.
The human was leaning against the wall on the far side of the cell glaring as he stepped through the doorway. She was still covered with blood and dirt, the side of her face and neck flecked with splotches of red. It was clumped in her dark hair too, tangled and knotted in the braid she hadn't loosed. Bruises had formed on her arms and neck with a big purple spot on her left cheek.
Wrist to shoulder on her left arm she was covered with deep gashes from where Victor had torn into her. From the way she was carrying herself, he could see the pain she was in. Especially with the way that her wrists were bound in a set of silver handcuffs.
Yet Red was surprised at how well she looked, even in spite of her injuries. There was no sign yet of fever, and while the injuries were bad and had become infected from the smell of them, it was nothing that couldn't be treated if she would let them. For someone who'd fought against a pack of werewolves and had been rotting in a cell for two days, she seemed remarkably fine. Extremely pissed off, perhaps, but otherwise okay.
He didn't realize he'd been holding in a breath until he released it.
"Hello," Red said to her, not unkindly. Not really with anything at all. Completely neutral. Quiet enough to not appear threatening, loud enough to be heard by her human ears.
She didn't respond except to bare her teeth as her upper lip curled into a sneer. Feral indeed.
"What's your name?" he asked as he leaned against the wall beside the door.
She narrowed her storm-cloud grey eyes at him. He was surprised at her audacity, at the lack of fear he beheld in her gaze, but was relieved for the strength of the stone behind him. Staring in her eyes made him feel like he'd been slammed by a semi-truck. Was this how Mated wolves felt all of the time? The intense emotion coursing through him was nearly enough to send him to his knees.
The woman didn't answer his question. Not like he really expected one.
"I heard you managed to make a swipe at my Alpha. You should be thankful you're not dead."
Something like pride flickered across her face. Pride and...another thing he couldn't quite figure out. Disappointment, maybe? As if she wished she were dead. As if she had indeed been trying to goad Henry into killing her like he'd suspected in the hallway.
A bolt of fear speared through him but he stifled it so as not to let it show on his face. "Why did your people come here? What do you want?"
Nothing but simmering hatred in her eyes. It was deeper than anger. More personal. This woman, this human, didn't just know about werewolves and dislike them. She despised them. He could see that if she had the chance she would burn them all to the ground.
It was even more clear to Red that she felt no connection to him. Their bond was one-sided. Perhaps it had to do with the dullness of the human senses. Whatever the reason, this woman didn't care for Red at all. Would probably be happy to see him burn in hell too.
Armed with that knowledge, Red knew that she would say nothing to him. He needed another plan.
So he took one last hard look at his Mate and walked out.
*~*
"I still can't believe you have a human Mate," Monroe said later that afternoon. She and Toby had arrived back at the pack in the middle of the night and this was the first that Red had spoken to her.
Monroe had found him in his office and hadn't wasted any time before firing questions at him about the attack and the wall, the people they'd lost, until it had finally landed on his spitfire human Mate.
"You and me both."
"What's she like?"
"Aggressive. Distrustful. Likely suicidal."
Sitting in a leather armchair in the corner of the room across from where Red leaned against his desk, Monroe's eyes softened just a fraction. "Well...I would be too if I were a human trapped in the wolf's den."
Red nodded. "Yeah, me too. I'm worried that her suicidal tendencies are going to be successful. She's refusing food, water, and medicinal help. Her wounds are infected – the blood smells off so I'm trying to do some research about what that means. Doesn't help that she's also dehydrated."
"She's been here for two-and-a-half days right?"
"Yes."
"Just take her to the healers. Dwayne and Amanda could get her fixed up no problem."
"It's crossed my mind," Red admitted as he leaned onto his elbows. "But she'd never trust me if I did that. I was hoping that she would feel the bond today when I went to speak with her and be inclined to let me help her but no dice."
Monroe frowned, thinking as she sank deeper into the armchair. "What about the other human? How's he doing?"
Red said, "Better than her. He wasn't that injured and he's scared of just about everything. The man doesn't want to die so he's eating and drinking whatever we give him. Henry's been handling the interrogations."
"Is the man talking?"
"A bit. He doesn't want to give up all of his secrets in case we kill him when we know all that he does. We've got his name – Archie Hawthorn – but he says that he doesn't know who she is. They came from different groups."
Monroe's eyes hardened at that. Red didn't have to guess at what she was feeling. This attack had been more than intentional. Methodically planned, enough so that hunter clans were working together.
"Will Henry kill him when he's outlived his usefulness?"
"I don't know," Red murmured but he knew what the outcome would probably be. The humans couldn't leave here, not if they were only going to go and bring back their hunter friends again. As it were, there was already the fear that the hunters who'd escaped would come back in force.
Besides, the hunters had attacked unprovoked. That gave werewolves more than enough license to eliminate one lowly human – especially one that might tell the entire world that werewolves existed and where to find them.
Monroe swallowed thickly, the sound strained enough that Red heard it. He knew that she was hurting for him. That most of the pack was. He had what all wolves hoped for – a Mate. Yet the situation was the farthest thing from a happy ending that Red had ever encountered.
"He won't kill her, though," Monroe said. To comfort him in whatever way that she could.
Red nodded. "I know. Henry and I already had that discussion. The final decision on what to do with her lies with me and me alone. Including the decision to kill her."
"You wouldn't be able to kill her, Red."
"I might not have a choice, Mo. Or she might make the choice for me."
He ran a hand over his face, so he heard, rather than saw, Monroe stand and cross the room towards him. She hopped up to sit on the desk beside him and placed her hand on his arm.
"You really think she's going to kill herself?"
Red lifted his head, stared into Monroe's eyes. "I think she's going to try."
She exhaled slowly. "Then have guards watching her all the time. If she tries anything, we'll know and we can save her before it's too late. Just...don't think you've lost her before she's even gone, Red."
"What if it's better for us if she is gone, Mo? Letting her die would...kill me, I think. But if it's what the pack needs, how can I keep her alive?"
Monroe didn't have an answer for him. Red could see that in her face as he pushed away from the desk and started pacing his small office.
It was sparsely decorated, just the two functional armchairs facing his simple desk and office chair. A soft white rug on the hardwood floor. No artwork on the walls, no signifiers of who inhabited this space.
The only meaningful thing he had in here was his Mate's silver-bladed katana. Phillip had recovered it from the forest and brought it to the house for Red, thinking that he might want some kind of memento from his Mate. The unspoken words had followed the gesture of offering him the blade. That maybe one day soon, this blade would be the only thing he'd have to remember her by.
Or perhaps Red would turn the katana on himself because if his human Mate died and he could have saved her...If he killed her for the sake of the pack...There was no way that he could live with that. The guilt would claim him, as surely as her hatred would claim her.
"Look, you know I don't buy into a lot of the Goddess and Fate stuff that some of our kind believe in," Monroe said. She stared at him with a fierce look in her eyes. "I've always thought that our Mate-pairings were just an instinctual biological indicator that would lead to the best offspring. Maybe that's all it is. Or maybe there is some Goddess of the Moon up there in the heavens looking out for us. If so, then maybe there's a reason that She paired you with a human. Maybe this human is what our pack needs. Perhaps we just need to figure out what it is that we need her for."