Not-So-Fated Mates

Chapter 6: The Wolves

Drake POV

Drake had tossed and turned for two hours, unable to sleep as his thoughts continuously cycled back to the girl, Layla. He had no idea why he couldn’t get her off his mind. Well, to be more accurate, he did know, but he didn’t want to know. He much preferred denial right now.

A knock sounded at his door, and shortly after his beta walked in. Drake growled as he watched Jackson stroll confidently into the room. He really needed to learn some manners. Or maybe Drake would have to beat it into him. That was definitely an idea to be considered.

“Having fun in here?” Jackson asked with a cheeky grin.

“Loads. Why the f**k are you waltzing into my room as if you own the place?” Drake growled, rising and grabbing his shirt off the floor.

“You don’t own the place either, buddy.” Jackson’s smile grew bigger. Drake huffed as he tugged his shirt over his head. “I came to see how you were doing. I could hear you growling and grumbling for the last two hours from my room next door.”

Drake pinned him with his most pissed off gaze, but the stupid fucker kept grinning as though Drake couldn’t kill him without breaking a sweat. “I’m fine,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “But you won’t be if you keep asking me this s**t. Or if you don’t stop barging into my room whenever you please.”

“Whoa, I was just making sure my alpha was okay, excuse me,” he said, holding up his hands.

“There’s no excuse for you,” Drake shot back.

“Touche,” Jackson laughed, and even Drake had to crack a small smile. “Hey look, you do remember how to smile. I thought you’d mysteriously forgotten since we got here and met that girl.”

Instantly, Drake’s mood soured. He wasn’t fond of anything that confused him, and that was one thing this girl seemed to know how to do, really well. “Look, I’ve just been in a bad mood. It has nothing to do with the girl.”

“Really?” Jackson asked, his eyebrows rising. “'Cause you seemed awfully insistent on taking the room directly across from hers.”

“Shut up,” Drake snapped. Having pulled his shoes on, he strode out of the bedroom, in an attempt to put some distance between him and his annoying pack mate. It didn’t work, and he’d known it wouldn’t, but it was worth trying.

“So, where to now?” Jackson had jogged to catch up, falling into stride with the disgruntled alpha.

“I’m going for a run. My wolf is aching to get out,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he sighed at the i***t’s persistence.

“That sounds like fun. I think I’ll go with-”

“Alone,” Drake growled, giving him a look.

“Fine, fine,” Jackson sighed. “Maybe I’ll just go see if there’s any hotties around here to hang out with.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned again before walking back towards the packhouse.

Drake shook his head and kept going, walking about ten feet into the trees before shedding his clothes and carefully putting them next to a tree before calling up his beast. It was a painful process, with bones breaking and reforming, fur shoving up through the skin, and organs reorganizing themselves, but, after so many years filled with transformations, he’d gotten used to it. Most wolves did, though a few struggled with it for the entirety of their lives. He actually had a couple of wolves with that problem as part of his pack, and it always hurt him to see them struggle like that. But that was another reason he was here to observe Layla’s training. If she could teach almost any wolf to partially transform, there was a chance her training could help those who were forced to fight through that pain.

His body remade, he jumped to his feet and excitedly sniffed the air, taking in all of the forest’s scents before taking off, twisting through the trees as if it were second nature. Like most wolves, he loved running. It was freedom, the wind ruffling through his gray fur, the blur of trees rushing past him, and he loved every second of it. Being in his wolf form like this was the only way he could allow himself to be open and carefree.

After a while, he slowed, a little bit out of breath. His stomach rumbled with a growl worthy of any wolf, and he sniffed the air, searching for the scent of prey. A minute passed before he finally found what he was looking for and the scent of a rabbit drifted across his searching nose. Perking his ears, he stalked in the direction of the delectable scent, catching sight of the rabbit grazing on some plants in a small clearing.

He hunkered down, close to the ground, and crawled closer on his belly, as quiet as a mouse. When he was close enough, he patiently waited for the perfect moment to leap and catch it. Just as he was about to spring, a big, solid black wolf came seemingly out of nowhere, growling as she leapt on the rabbit and snarled as she broke its neck. He growled at the she-wolf, annoyed that she had the audacity to steal his meal from him.

She turned, the rabbit still in hanging limply from her mouth. It was then that her scent hit him and sent him reeling. She smelled deliciously of apples and pine trees, causing his heart to thud in his chest. He didn’t even realize she had returned his menacing growl until he came back to earth with a shake of his head. She turned and stalked away from him, and, no matter how much she’d managed to daze him without doing a single thing, he couldn’t let that slide. He was an alpha, damn it. It was fine that she didn’t want to share, he’d merely been irritated that he hadn’t gotten it first. But to turn her back on him and walk away was an insult that couldn’t be borne. She may have thought she had won, but she would learn.