Chapter 19: Nineteen.

It took Calum fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes of staring after the direction she disappeared in, before he could move. He was still stood in the exact same spot, with his hands raised in submission, where he had watched Colt walk away, again. She didn't even grace him with a backwards glance.

Tilting his head to the side and thrusting his chin out, he stretched out his neck, and both heard and felt the stiff joints pop. The sound seemed to echo in the empty space around him, reiterating that he was alone. Not that he needed the feeling reinforced, there was no escaping that right now.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his annoyance, that was resurfacing. Although this time it was aimed at himself, not Colt, and mostly for how he had handled the whole thing. But, especially for letting her walk away.

"Fuck it," he groaned to himself, deciding he needed a pint after all, and turning to make his way back to the pub.

It took less than ten minutes, and Calum was almost back the pub, just at the very moment when Iona was leaving for the night. Spotting him, she made a beeline in his direction, noticing his shredded clothes with a satisfaction she kept hidden.

Calum had to stop abruptly, when she forced herself into his space uninvited. Rather than simply suppressing his hiss, he decided to vocalise his annoyance at her verbally instead.

"Iona Campbell, believe me when I tell you, it has been a long fucking day, and now is definitely not the time for me to deal with any Campbell bullshit, or for you to fucking get in my face!" He spat, placing his hands on her upper arms, intending to move her out of his path.

But Iona suddenly thrust her arms up, causing his grip to slip off of her. "Don't you *Iona Campbell* me, Macgregor! And you can keep your filthy hands to yourself!" She hissed back. "Now, what the hell have you done to my cousin, and why do you have her clothes?" She demanded, swiftly snaking her hand behind his waist, and yanking Colt's clothes from his belt before he could stop her.

Repeating in his head, that he would not hit a woman as a mantra, he spoke aloud through gritted teeth, "Look, I don't have to explain myself to the likes of you! Now, get the fuck, out of my way!" Calum spat, snatching Colt's clothes, but wincing when he heard a tear. "I swear to fuck, Iona! Piss off!" Calum swore angrily at his mate's cousin.

"You won't be going anywhere near my cousin again, Macgregor. I'll make sure of it!" Iona threatened, "Especially after this! She deserves better!"

"You Campbells are all the same, dirty fucking snakes!" He retorted, pissed off at everthing that had happened. "Is Bruce, better? Come off it, who are you trying to kid?"

gnoring his question, Iona's open palm swung at Calum's face, just as he grabbed her wrist, and the pub door swung open, revealing another equally worked up wildcat.

"That was a mistake Iona!" Calum hissed, struggling not to tighten his grip on her arm, while keeping his claws sheathed.

"Calum! Get your hands off my mate!" Alasdair seethed at his friend, seeing red.

Iona rolled her eyes, as the two testosterone charged males started squaring off against each other. It wasn't the first time it happened and likely wouldn't be the last. There was a reason the collective noun for their species was a destruction of wildcats, they weren't exactly known for playing nice with one another, family and friendship ties aside.

Iona twisted her hand out of Calum's grip, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not your mate Alasdair! I chose Samuel. Get it through your thick skull!" She yelled, finding a new target for her annoyance.

Calum's laughter was dripping with sarcasm, "Wait, that's the hold up between you two? Isn't he..."

"Watch your mouth very carefully, Calum Macgregor!" Iona warned.

"Or what?" He snapped back, stepping forward into her personal space, just as Alasdair's fist made contact with his jaw, forcing him to stagger back.

"Stay away from her, Calum!" Alasdair ground out, unable to control his protective instincts.

"Fuck off, Alasdair!" Iona screeched, shoving him away and stepping between the two. "I am not yours to protect, I have made that perfectly clear!" She scolded, pointing her slender finger at his chest.

"Aye, you keep saying that Iona, but I don't see your, precious, fucking, Sammy Boy, around to help! Do you?" Alasdair shot back, "In fact, he never seems to be around when you need him, does he?"

"You leave him out of this!" She threatened, stepping closer to Alasdair, Calum completely forgotten about.

Alasdair smirked, angling his body just right, to trap Iona between himself, and the outer wall of the pub behind her back.

"I would gladly leave him out of everything! I have no fucking interest in him, whatsoever, Iona," he all but purred, enjoying watching her gulp, as her heart rate began to escalate. "As a matter of fact, I don't think you do either."

Iona stepped back, confused at how suddenly she was trapped, between Alasdair and the cold stone wall behind her, as the coolness from the ancient brickwork seeped through her light jumper dress.

"Actually, I was trying on dresses today, for my wedding, Alasdair. I am plenty interested in it." She seethed back at him, verballybgoing for a gut punch.

However, Alasdair simply leaned in towards her, his right hand gently skimming down the side of her face, as her breathing quickened. "But, I bet you haven't bought one," he almost purred at her. "I bet, none of them are good enough are they?"

"Step back." Iona stated clearly, amazed at the steadiness in her own voice, despite the slight tremble of her upper lip, and the flustered realisation, that he might just manage to see right through her.

"No." He stated, just as clearly, while Iona's hands came up onto his broad chest to push him back. But, Alasdair didn't budge, instead he moved that right hand of his lower, and pulled her closer to him by her waist, so her body was pressed flush against his own, "and you don't want me to do that either," was the last thing he said, before capturing her mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

Iona felt everything fade as Alasdair devoured her. It was like he was capturing her soul, or at the very least branding himself onto it. Iona fisted her hands into Alasdair's shirt, as his masculine heat physically overwhelmed her senses. She was so lost in his embrace, it took her far too long for her own liking, to realise that she was kissing him back, that her throat was vibrating with the purring she was doing, just the same way his was. Snapping her focus back into play, she bit down on his tongue, hard and tasted blood. This time her push against Alasdair's chest worked, and she followed it up with a hard slap, claws out, across his face, drawing blood a second time, as she tore open his upper lip.

Alasdair dabbed his hand against his mouth, but even the small injury that brought him back to reality with a sharp bump, couldn't erase the perfection he felt when holding his mate in his arms. Now he knew for certain, he could never let Iona Campbell go, despite her next statement.

"Keep your fucking hands off of me, Alasdair!" Iona screamed, tears welling up in her eyes wildly, before they toppled out. Then she flinched away from his out stretched hand and fled.

Alasdair dropped hand limply, the slightest pride he had swelling at the level of fight his woman had, became completely swamped by the guilt he now felt, for making her cry. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Iona, wait" he called, as Calum's hand landed on his shoulder, strongly enough to get his attention.

"Give her time." He cautioned, thinking he should have taken his own advice earlier that night.

Alasdair grunted, shaking off Calum's hand and storming back into the pub, it was a wonder he door had any hinges left, with how hard it slammed.

Calum looked after his friend, before shaking his head, "Fuck this," he muttered, walking past the pub altogether, deciding he would rather be on his own.

Calum felt deflated, it hadn't helped watching Alasdair and Iona's fucked up relationship display, playing out in full definition before his very eyes. He was tired, disappointed, and had a very long shitty day, which had ended in possibly, the worst case scenario it could have. He needed a reset button, and time in his animal form to stretch his claws, and flick his tail. In the past, however many months, he stopped counting after five, it had taken to find Colt, he had neglected his animal form, and right now shifting was all he wanted to do.

Skirting around the village, in the direction of the carpark at the small grocery shop, Calum was glad he found exactly what he was looking for. A pickup truck, with a canopy covering the flat bed. It would keep his things dry and safe for an hour, till he could return. It was a relatively new hilux by the looks of it though, so the canopy on the back may also be affected by the central locking system. Checking around to make sure no one was around to see him, he approached the truck and pulled the lever to open the canopy at the back. With luck, it actually opened.

Sighing with relief he quickly shrugged off his own clothes and placed them in the back with Colt's folded on top, and then he closed the hatch. He took a large deep breath, and transformed into his own feline counterpart. Most wildcats were similar in all their overall markings, but Calum had one stark difference. He was bigger than most in feline form. Not ridiculously big. But he stood about two heads higher than most males, making him about the size of a medium to large sized dog.

He then slinked his way back through the small village, and back into the wood beside the river. His intention was to stretch his legs and relieve some tension, before returning for his clothes and heading home. But, before he knew where he was going, Calum found himself stood back in the same spot, he discovered the true duality of his mate. While he was staring up at the hollow in the tree Colt had used to hide from him.

Calum bounded up the tree with an ease only cats can display, and before he knew it, he was making himself comfortable in that same hollow, he himself scooped Colt out of. Her scent was so strong and soothing here, and he couldn't help himself, he tried to push his fur into the bark as much as he possibly could. Giving in to the desperate instinct to not only mingle their scents, but, attempting to pick up as much of her fragrance on his body as he could at the same time.

The next thing Calum was aware of was a tickling sensation on his nose and the tips of his ears, as they reflexively twitched in response. His feline face was crunching and releasing because of it, as the tip of his tail began to twitch in annoyance. Opening his eyes after shaking his now damp head, he discovered it was morning, and it was bloody raining!

*Shit* he thought, as he leapt from the tree in one bound. Not bothering to give in to the stretch his newly awake body craved, he ran full pelt to the grocery store car park, in the vein hopes the truck with his belongings would still be there. Not wanting to deal with the locals, he stuck to the backs of the buildings, darting through gardens and scaring dogs and house cats alike.

But, he froze, as he rounded the corner of the last building before the car park. The rain forcing eyes to blink more than usual, but that was the only movement his body displayed. Calum just stood there, between the wall and the rancid smelling commercial waste bin, watching. Watching and wondering how he missed it last night. How did he not scent her?

That truck was hers. The one carrying his belongings, and most importantly his bike keys. It was Colt's, and there she was, getting out of the car the lion he met yesterday was driving, to pick it up. She was wearing a long floating skirt, and a casual green peasant top, which even at this distance he could tell, it highlighted her hazel eyes. He smiled inwardly, noting she had ink of her own on her collar, not that he could make it out properly. Her long black hair bounced in waves over her creamy white skin as she moved around the truck to the driver's side. Despite the stressed posture, and the fact that she kept looking over her shoulder, all Calum could think was how unbelievably beautiful she was.

*Fuck* he thought, *the wolf never did her justice.*

Calum was utterly and completely on cloud nine. He had finally seen her properly, and Colt was the most stunning thing he had ever encountered. So much so, that he was stunned, and deeply rooted to the spot, while he watched her get in the truck and drive away.

*Shit!* he mentally face palmed, letting out an annoyed hiss, aimed solely at himself. Before he turned towards the hills and ran off, if he was lucky he could beat her home. She might even agree to give him a lift back for his bike, he dared to hope.