Ryan's POV
I stood before the crowd, daring anyone to challenge me to a fight. I even wanted it. I was angry. Rupert, my wolf, was about to seize control of me. I had not lost a fight since I was fourteen, and they all knew it.
"Well! Who wants to fight me!" I shouted at them.
Curse or not. No one would do harm to her. They could not cast her out, I would protect her. Alyson, my mate. There was no way I could witness dying, fear losing her when I'd only just found her.
Yes, she's my mate. I could smell it. Her blood smelt sweet and delicious like vanilla and cinnamon bark.
The others of the Starstream Pack had lowered eyes. No one would fight me, not after my history winning every fight. When I was angry like this, I could kill too easily. They began to look at each other, slowly dispersing into houses or the trees behind them.
Rupert settled down within me. There was no fight. I turned to where Michael had been, but he'd left to. I'd reckon with him later, he should know better than to challenge my authority as soon as I was not there.
The other day, when I patrolled the riverside. That smell seized me. Rupert took control, and I shifted without choice. He was edgy, our instinct screaming, "Mate!" It was a deep desire that I felt to my bones like I never had in all my life.
I saw a pale girl's body partially in the river. She was only covered a little in wet rags, seeming to be hurt badly. I stood at the edge of the clearing staring at her. I sniffed the air wondering if she was alive, or drowned in the river. But her blood, I could smell. She'd been bleeding. The smell I'd desired my whole life without knowing it.
It was strange because when the sunlight hit her a certain way, I saw a body mangled in scars. I saw a gash on her wrist up to her arm where I could see to the bone. Her leg was twisted like it might be even broken. Her neck was gaping open with a wound as if someone had nearly cut off her head from the left side. She looked weak, deflated. Before my eyes, I had found my mate dead.
I was frozen in place, but then she moved. She sat up a little and looked around. Her head bobbing as if she were dizzy.
I shifted back to a man, running to her to drag her from the cold waters. I scooped her up, grabbing the hope that I'd found my mate alive, even if on the verge of death. She was coughing up water before she passed out. Her body was so frail and light. Up close, all those scars on her body were gone. But the gash on her arm was real- swollen, red with white puss seeping out. It was clearly infected. Deadly infected.
She looked up at me once, her purple eyes were so vivid. But then she fell back to unconsciousness.
There was gash on her neck to, just under the left chin. Almost in the same place as my scar, only it did not venture to her face. I had so much pity for the delicate state of my mate. I had to resist the urges flogging me within to not let Rupert take control.
I wasn't sure what witchery had made me see so many scars that weren't there. The blood from the two open wounds was enough to kill anyone. I needed to take her home. I needed to resist the smell.
Carefully, I lifted her body. She was much smaller than I was, and in her ill-health, much lighter too. She smelt weirdly delicious, being close to her blood arose desires, and I wanted to take a bite. I gulped a few times, restraining myself.
But who was she? If her blood smelt this inviting, could she possibly be a Clan Clark she-wolf? Why was she here? Who had done this to her? The Clan Clark lives in Crowalt Pack, which is nearly a thousand miles away from here.
There was a faint smell of wolfs bane wafting from her nose as she breathed. I carried her, wondering if that had something to do with her weakness. While her body was limp and drained of life, I still held the image of her with all those scars all over her body, even if it seemed to be an illusion.
I could still smell the blood. My desire to protect her was stronger that my desire to taste it.
"Who did this to our mate?" Rupert stirred in me, furiously.
I carried her home, to my cabin. I laid her on my bed and asked my house maid, Donna, to change her to dry clothes. Once she was wrapped up in a blanket, and I could no longer see the frail, limp body and gashes, I noticed how beautiful her face was- her small chin led to a delicate nose. Her full lips parted and closed on occasion, and I couldn't help but touch them lightly. I longed to see those purple eyes again. Her hair was blue-black and shimmering like a starry night.
Whenever she stirred, I was there. I helped her drink water and elixirs from the doctors to give her nourishment. They said she'd lost a lot of blood. The doctors told me that the infected arm should even be cut off, and that might not even save her.
They told me how to treat her cuts, as I hated to see anyone else touching her. When they inspected her-touching her, Rupert wanted to tear into them and throw them out of my cabin. I had to refrain, knowing that she needed the medical attention. But then, I had them instruct me how to do it.
I tended to her wounds. I spread ointment over them to treat her. I wrapped new bandages on her neck and arm. Then I sat beside her for days. I thought she'd heal more quickly, but I blamed that wolfs bane that I had originally smelt for her slow healing.
I feared I would not meet my mate in this life. Rupert became edgy the more I pressed my desires down.
After a few days, she seemed to respond when I touched her lips. She frowned and turned away. The smell of her blood only became better as the infection started to heal. Her better health only enhanced her intoxicating smell more.
As I sat with her, worrying that I was losing the mate I'd never imagined finding, I thought of my cursed life. I was banished from Clan Alexander at only ten-years-old. They expected me to die early without the blood of the she-wolves from Clan Clark. I should've lost my ability to shift to human. I should be dead by now, but instead I became a rogue, and I built the Starstream Pack.
When she finally woke up. We finally spoke, my heart was pounding in my chest. Rupert was calling to her she-wolf. But there was no response from her. It was as if she did not sense that we were mates. Her wolf didn't respond to the mate bond like it should. I hope that when she was fully healed, she would know like I knew. I had to be patient.
But Rupert was furious. "They stole our mate away. If we ever find who did this to her, we will tear them up!" I was determined to find the truth.