The Alpha's Retribution

Chapter 3: Mate

JAXOM'S POV

There was a heaviness in the air that I couldn’t recall having felt outside, though it could likely be attributed to the stagnant wave of heat that had engulfed me upon entering the double wide. I looked around to see if the trailer had central air. Nope, no vents. No window unit, either. Well, that explained the sheen of sweat glistening on my brow, but what about that smell?

A strange scent was teasing my nose, muddling my thoughts and clouding my senses. Were the Ahtones burning some kind of incense? What was that, sage… patchouli? It was earthy but still mild and fragrant. Whatever the smell was, it was starting to disorient me. I looked around in a daze, my eyes blinking as they slowly acclimated to the dim interior lighting.

“Eisen, what is that?” I whispered over my shoulder, feeling like I had walked into some trippy dream.

I could hear the rhythmic pulse of blood rushing past my ears and time itself seemed to drag around me. It was like no hangover I’d ever experienced. My brother only frowned at the question and shook his head, probably assuming that I was being rude.

I palmed my face and rubbed at it roughly, trying to clear whatever fog had come over me. Forcing myself to focus, I glanced around at my surroundings. We were standing in the threshold of a small galley kitchen that flowed into a crowded den. I’d never seen so many people piled into such a confined space. Old or young, man or woman, it made no difference. They all wore their fear in pursed lips, crossed arms, and downcast eyes.

The trailer seemed impossibly small to house them all, so I could only guess they'd gathered on behalf of the girl. That, or they’d come to get a rare glimpse of Dustmaw’s finest.

An elderly woman was the first among them to rise, approaching us with her chin raised and head held high. Unlike the others, there wasn’t a trace of fear in her bright brown eyes.

“Yá'át'ééh (Hello, welcome). I am Thora Ahtone, Donovan's mother. Trinity's grandmother. I am Táchii’nii, of the Red Running into the Water People. Born for the Kii yaa' aanii, the Towering House Clan. And you are Jaxom Hill, King Alpha of Dustmaw pack. You’ve come in search of the skinwalker. It has been two days since he left his mark on my granddaughter, but she still bleeds from her wounds. They do not heal, only fester.”

“Have you taken her to a hospital?” I asked reflexively, feeling a sudden concern for this girl I had never met.

“If only it were so simple. If you saw her, you would understand. My granddaughter’s injuries were caused, not by man or beast, but by something in between,” the elder explained calmly. “Our healers have done all that they can for her. What will you do, Wolf King?”

“Can I see the girl?” The words sprang from my lips before I could stop them.

Admittedly, I knew next to nothing about Trinity Ahtone. I couldn’t even say whether she was a woman or a child. Only an hour ago I hadn’t cared enough to ask. But something had shifted the moment I’d walked through the door, the moment I’d caught her scent. It had to be her; there was no other explanation. I had to see her or be suffocated by the growing sense of dread coiling around my throat.

“Jaxom!” Eisen hissed in rebuke, taken aback by my forwardness. His voice sounded faded and distant to my ears, like I was listening from underwater.

“Absolutely, not,” Donovan echoed my brother’s outrage, a flash of lightning after thunder. “You’ve got some nerve to walk into my house and start making demands. My daughter’s suffered enough abuse at the hands of your kind.”

A second woman stood quickly to her feet, her long skirt swirling as she crossed the room to lay a gentle hand on Donovan’s forearm. “Let him see her, Don. There is nothing more that we can do for Trinity, but maybe he can ease her pain,” she pleaded beseechingly. “She’s my niece. I want what’s best for her, too.”

He regarded the woman for a long moment before addressing Thora with a sigh. “You trust them, Shimá (Mother)?”

“I do. I have before, and I will again,” the grandmother replied oddly.

I opened my mouth to question her, but quickly clamped it shut when Thora gestured to the hallway behind her. “That way, Jaxom. Trinity sleeps behind the last door on the left, though I expect you already knew that.”

The sea of people parted as an otherworldly pull drew me away from the crowded living room and down a dimly lit hallway. I paused when I reached the door, my fingers resting against the knob before giving it a gingerly turn.

As soon as I stepped into the room, the overwhelming scent hit me like a blow. I grasped onto the door frame for support, my knees ready to cave beneath me.

What I had thought to be the burning of some simple incense, was so much deeper. It was memory. I could smell fresh rain on the desert air, the warm vanilla of my grandmother’s baking, and jasmine blooming outside of my childhood bedroom.

The breath went out of my lungs as I took in the small body before me, curled up on a frameless mattress, resting against the floor. The girl was facing the wall, her knees tucked into her chest which rose and fell with sharp, labored breaths. A shock of dark hair was bundled at the nape of her neck, its thickness obscuring her face from view.

Mate.

I knew it. I smelled it. I felt it down to my core. The knowledge coursed through my veins like fire. Without realizing it, I was moving forward, drawing ever closer to the flame that was sure to destroy me.

I dropped down by her bedside on one knee, taking in her trembling figure with growing horror. It was too hot for her to be chilled. My mate was shivering with pain.

I reached for her, sliding the bedsheet down to expose a softly rounded shoulder. An involuntary groan erupted from my lips, and I was certain that my heart would rupture.

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

Savage bites were gouged out from Trinity’s flesh, covering every inch of her beautiful body in gore. Dark veining had sprung out from the wounds, a paranormal infection that I had only seen one other time in my life. Even without touching her, I could feel the heat of fever radiating off of her inflamed body.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eisen whispered hoarsely, appearing in the doorway to intrude on my living nightmare.

Slowly I lifted my head, meeting his furious expression with one of raw pain. The anger drained from my brother’s features as his shrewd eyes flitted from my knelt position to the dying girl behind me.

“Oh, s**t!” he muttered, swiping an anxious hand over his lips. “s**t!” He started to pace the floor, taking in my deteriorating state with wild eyes.

My brother knew, all too well, the kind of chaos a mate bond could wreak. He’d been consumed by the same pain, not so very long ago.

I buried my face in my hands as the full realization of my situation came crashing down on my head like an anvil. When I looked back up, I found Eisen’s face frozen in dismay.

Turning to follow the line of his gaze, I tensed as the barrel of a shotgun was shoved against my temple.

My jaw clenched in shock, taking in the fearsome pair of eyes glowering up at me. With a single elbow propped up on the threadbare mattress, my mate’s delicate finger rested poised against the trigger. Where the hell had the gun come from?

My gaze swept to the narrow space between the wall and mattress. An irrational rage overtook me as I realized Trinity had been sleeping armed. As sick as she was, the girl had still sought to defend herself, fearful that Warren might return. The thought that he haunted her, even in sleep, tore through my chest, wreaking more havoc than any bullet.

“Get up slowly, and walk to the door,” Trinity wheezed, each breath costing her an inordinate amount of effort.

All I could manage to do was stare at the sultry pair of lips that had just produced the sweetest sounds I had ever known.

“Please, Miss Ahtone, we mean you no harm. We’re only here to ensure your safety,” Eisen stated with forced calm, lifting his hands to demonstrate his point. “Put the gun down. No one needs to get hurt.”

“These are silver bullets. They’ll do more than just hurt. Now, get up before I sink one into your thick skull…skinwalker.”

I knew, with absolute certainty, that Trinity wouldn’t hesitate to make good on that threat. Even if the bullets weren’t forged of silver, they’d still hurt like hell. All the same, my body remained rooted to the floor.

“Please, let me help you,” I rasped, drowning in the midnight pools that stared me down with feral intensity. She was like an animal caught in a trap, and I hated the fact that my presence elicited fear in her. I was supposed to be Trinity’s comfort, her protection. Still, I was impressed she had the strength to stand her ground against an Alpha.

As I took in the slip of a girl before me, I had to admit, the moon goddess had certainly outdone herself. My mate was nothing that I would have asked for, but everything I could ever want.

Her face was strong and proud, mapped out in high cheekbones, arching brows, and a petite, rounded chin. A pair of full, ripe lips were curled back in pain, and her almond-shaped eyes were brimming with malice. There was a slight bend to the wide bridge of her nose, and at my obvious study, the girl’s nostrils flared in indignation.

Trinity Ahtone was a storm of a woman, and with a single glance, I knew her to be my match and equal.

“Don’t look at me like that. Just get the f**k out,” she panted. With each heave of her chest, her wounds wept, staining the fabric of her white tank top in crimson.

“Trinity, please,” I begged, a violent tremor coursing down my spine. My skin was crawling, threatening to tear at the smallest provocation. With each passing second, the beast inside of me clawed closer to the surface. I was dangerously close to a full-blown shift.