Chapter Thirty-Six
She still dared to run from him.
His muzzle scrunched with impatience, but he didn’t let out the snarl he was building.
He could scent her clearly–just as clearly as the first moment he knew his mark etched itself onto her body. It was blinding his senses.
Four paws landed every strike of dirt with power. He pursued her windy, almost drunken, path deeper into the forest, traveling with a speed unbefitting of the terrain as he ignored the harsh whips of low branches and the occasional sharp pull of thorns.
He wasn’t going to let her escape this time.
He could tell by smell: not only was she bleeding, his mate was in heat again.
***
Rowan had ended up at his office, following the dinner. He sat for quite some time doing absolutely nothing but staring at the wall. He was eighty percent sure he knew the identity of his mate, but the question was now how to approach her.
He’d figured it would be easy: after figuring out who she was, he’d go up to her, seal their bond, and go about making their life together…
But faced with the reality…
He was nervous.
A strange emotion to feel. So, he sat there contemplating that feeling as he stressed over the best course of action to snare his moody mate.
After a while of that, he conceded it may be of use to talk to Finn.
He’d rolled his eyes. Since when was it that he found himself going to that lug for advice.
He’d pulled a tray of documents in front of him, busying himself with work, but before long waves of emotion started to drown him to the point of choking.
He’d nearly fallen from his chair.
He’d been quick to realize what was happening as outside thoughts began to bleed freely in his mind.
He snarled, anger instantly at the highest level as his senses turned.
He was already out the door before he demanded her location.
He’d never felt such raw terror.. she was fighting for her life.
The life that would soon belong with *him.*
The pitch of his howl had gotten an immediate response. Evelyn, a spot of white against the dark backdrop of the night, had flown alongside him. His father, having let out a vicious howl of his own, had traveled not far behind them, along with a handful of guards.
He’d registered the smell of blood past his mate’s scent the closer he got to the treeline, and when they crossed it, another scent warred with his mate’s. His mother’s.
His father had probably picked up his mother’s scent before him, because his speed had nearly tripled for him to be able to pass Rowan and make it to the small obstructed clearing first.
Three of their guards had fanned out in wolf form, while two shifted along with Evelyn, his father, and himself. One guard haphazardly kicked the single rogue that lay on the ground in the clearing.
His father kneeled in front of a tree, his large body blocking Rowan’s view.
He approached cautiously, half worried of what he’d find, and half concerned about what his sudden movements would make his father do.
The sight that greeted him was his mother, resting gingerly against the tree caked in blood–some dried, some wet– and completely unresponsive. It was enough to momentarily dull his senses.
An involuntary snarl ripped through his throat, and his father responded in kind as Rowan watched him lean forward, desperately swiping his nose against the mate he’s cherished for decades.
But her eyes still didn’t open, which was surprising considering the healing power for Alphas–especially between mates–was especially strong.
“She’s okay. She’s breathing just fine. We need to bring her to the castle.” Silver hair brushed over his mother's face as Evelyn leaned over her, examining.
His father silently nodded, his eyes riveted to his mate, as Rowan released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Apprehension melted away, and anger slowly reclaimed its hold on him. Rowan turned sharply, stomping toward the rogue the two guards were busy assessing–promptly delivering a blow to his head.
The guards looked a bit surprised, but didn’t make a move to stop him when he did it a second time.
He’d stood there huffing. There was no way a single rogue would’ve been able to do this much damage to someone like his mother. It didn’t make sense.
And that also begged the question of where were her guards? Morgan?
He breathed deep, his eyes glazing a bit as the tantalizing smell that brought him here penetrated the haze of blood and bodies around him. Assured of his mother’s state, he felt okay to leave her in the hands of those present as he took a step in the direction of the scent he wanted to bury himself in.
“If you fight me, you will lose.”
Silver eyes glowed unnaturally as they stared at him. Evelyn had moved directly into his path, intending to block him.
“Perhaps.” She didn’t look the least bit threatened.
“Don’t get in my way, Evelyn.” It was a friendly suggestion as he took a confident step forward. He’d been wondering about her behavior for a while, and her behavior now confirmed his suspicions–she’d only been going crazy over a certain candidate.
He’d stepped closer, a move she matched.
His chest rumbled low.
He’d thought about commanding her, but quickly did away with that as she was pretty resistant.
He’d huffed, his muscles twitching with the delay Evelyn caused.
“She needs me,” he pleaded.
She cocked her head then, considering him.
“Maybe… but that’s for her to decide.” Her silver hair blew softly against her hard features.
Her jaw worked, but after another few seconds she silently stepped aside.
He blew another breath, as he walked past her, glad to not have to waste anymore precious time. His heart was racing.
“Hey,” she called him from behind, and he twisted to face her.
“Be gentle… I’ve been waiting for her a lot longer.” She’d looked as if she had a million things she’d wanted to say, but settled on that. He didn’t fully understand what she meant, but he didn’t feel it was a threat to take his mate away so he nodded in acknowledgement before shifting, focusing on the scent he craved.
“If you hurt her I just might kill you!” Evelyn called as he sprinted deeper into the forest after his mate.