POV: Gasper
Gasper's eyes focused on the body at his feet. A woman, asleep and unmoving even after he had tripped over her. He shook himself out of the mate-bond trance and dropped to his knees beside her. Her skin burned beneath his touch, feverish and dangerous. Her breathing came too slowly.
"Hey, darling." He shook her gently.
No response.
He took a moment to study her. She was small, vulnerable, lying in the grass like a broken doll. He brushed dark blonde hair back from her face, highlighted strands catching the moonlight like golden flowers in bloom.
Around her neck hung a silver chain with a teardrop-shaped moonstone charm. The skin beneath it looked red and angry. When Gasper touched the necklace, it burned his palm.
"Damnit!" He jerked back. Silver. "Why would she..."
He pulled the chain off quickly, the metal searing a bloody imprint across his hand. It would sting for hours. Silver and wolfsbane were kryptonite for wolves. Why would any wolf wear such a thing?
Was she even a wolf?
She is!
Azreal interrupted his thoughts with absolute certainty.
Gasper traced the ugly mark the necklace had left on her ivory skin. Only then did he realize she wasn't just warm. She was burning. He pulled his hands away. They were red from touching her.
She was alone and in heat.
"Where..." He started to speak but heard movement in the forest. "Shit."
A she-wolf's heat could draw male wolves from miles away, even if she wasn't their mate. The pull to respond to a she-wolf's arousal led most wolves to violence. He needed to get her to a safe house before he had to start fighting them off.
Gasper scooped her into his arms, holding her as tight as he could. Her skin burned his hands to the point of blisters, but adrenaline dulled the pain. A she-wolf couldn't tolerate heat for long. Without mating or lowering her body temperature, it could be fatal. Her temperature was already dangerously high.
You cannot let her die.
Azreal responded to his thoughts with desperate urgency.
"Would you please stop right now? I need to focus."
Many of his friends had gotten their wolves around sixteen and instantly became best friends with them. Synchronized. Loving. Gasper's wolf had shown up when he was six, during a fight at school he was losing spectacularly. Azreal had pushed power into him to give him the upper hand.
You are weak, Azreal had said. You are going to be alpha and need to be strong for our mate. Get the fuck up.
They hadn't had a good start. It had only gotten worse from there.
There was a safe house nearby that should be empty. Gasper didn't stop running until he practically knocked the door down. All the safe houses sat at the furthest points from central pack lands, scent-proof and soundproof. Sometimes unmated she-wolves went into heat and needed help to survive. Usually, family watched over them.
What kind of people would let her go off alone?
Maybe she was rogue? She didn't smell like a rogue. She also didn't carry any pack scent, which was unusual. Maybe she had never been part of a pack.
What shitstorm had he stumbled into?
But none of that mattered. This was his mate. He had to do whatever it took to keep her alive. Keep her safe and happy. She was his only chance to have a luna, as far as Azreal was concerned. His only chance not to die a virgin.
You care about the most juvenile things.
Gasper would have conceded that point. The last thought wasn't critical right now.
Without her, he would never experience love or anything close to it. Even if Azreal gave up and they chose someone else, it would never feel right. Not after experiencing her scent. He was already addicted. Nothing else would ever compare.
Once through the door, the she-wolf who lived here slammed it behind him. He heard the lock click. Someone was always stationed here to make sure if a female came on her own, she could get the support she needed. It was something his parents had put in place and were quite proud of. They had saved many she-wolves from being forcibly mated by wolves who couldn't control their urges, or perhaps even from death. The advantage to getting the posting was having a whole house to yourself or sharing with one other she-wolf. Most pack houses were crowded. Some liked it, but others did not.
"Alpha?" Her voice held confusion and concern.
Gasper didn't respond. He pushed past her and ran upstairs. There was a cold plunge pool on the second floor. He placed his mate in it as gently as possible.
In minutes, her body cooled enough for her eyes to open.
"Darling, can you hear me?"
"Don't call me that."
The words came out as a growl. Her eyes blazed gold, too bright for a human. This was her wolf speaking. Gasper had known only two wolves who couldn't shift their eyes: Victor and Reed. It would be unusual if this was a genetic defect.
Her wolf radiated fear in waves, putting Azreal on high alert.
"What is your name then?" He kept his voice careful, gentle.
"Katherine." She pushed her face into his hand when he petted her cheek. "Mate. I've been looking for you."
"What is her name?"
Katherine's expression shifted to annoyance.
"Don't worry about that. She is unimportant. Foolish human. She doesn't even know I'm real." Her face formed a pout, clearly frustrated with her human counterpart. This was apparently a point of contention between the two of them. However, Gasper needed clarification on what exactly she meant.
"What do you mean?"
"She doesn't know anything about having a wolf. She takes drugs to silence me. She wears silver, which weakens me. But I cannot bear it any longer. I need you."
Katherine wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him close. Her lips crashed into his, passionate and desperate. Gasper held back, keeping himself under control. This was important.
"I see that's..."
"Let me talk to Azreal." She interrupted, completely uninterested in him. "It's been hundreds of years now. I need..."
Then she was gone.
The golden eyes shifted to an icy green. A howl of pure pain tore from her throat, echoing through the safe house like a wounded animal.