Just how I like it.
To be alone.
But I felt something earlier, pulling from the animal side of me which takes over more and more each day. Distress. I feel it again now, and even though I know I should turn away, for some reason, I can’t, so I run. I race towards it, and as I dart over logs and around trees, images trickle through my mind. Memories that are not my own slam across my thoughts, and I almost stumble. The emotions are palpable, twisting and distorting my own.
Fear, anger, and betrayal. I see flashes of leaves covered with blood, and hear panting as hair whispers around a foreign face.
I skid to a halt when an image takes hold, gripping me as if I am the person they are happening to, just like in my dreams.
Lungs screaming, I kneel and stare at the dark water of the river. I know if I follow it, I can get away. They won’t be able to track me, even their magic won’t work in it. It’s nature’s washing machine, after all. A pure source of magic, and the people…my people hunting me will lose me in the azure waters. I just have to get far enough away.
Gripping my long, ice-coloured hair, I secure it back quickly with a branch to stop it from hitting me as I glance over my shoulder, noting the distance I’ve covered. I can hear them coming, the wild beasts they ride loud and thunderous miles away as they try to catch up—the horns of the hunt blaring.
With a scream of protest, I throw myself into the river and let it carry me away…
The vision stops, and I raise my head and howl again at the sudden loneliness in my mind. Who is that…who is calling me?
Why now after all these years?
More importantly, is this another trap?
I can’t be sure, but I have to know, so I break into a sprint. I cover the distance once again, until I reach the river that runs through my territory, then I follow it. I run alongside it and search for any signs of life.
I run for miles, and I’m just starting to give up hope when I spot it. Not it, her. A head is bobbing in the water, her pale, almost luminescent arms thrown over a branch to hang on as the rapids batter her. Her eyes are closed, and her icy hair is wet and stuck to her neck and face. Wading into the water, I let my power leak out as I grab her by her torn, emerald dress and manage to drag her onto the shore.
Her feet are bare and covered in dirt and blood, and her pale skin is dotted with it. Sitting back, I sniff her subtly, the earthy scents seeming to wrap around me and squeeze. Her hair covers her face once again, and I find myself leaning down and nudging it away with my muzzle. Her head flops to the side and reveals her face, just as bright, silver eyes snap open and lock on me.
I’m thrown backwards as my heart slams wildly in my chest and a howl escapes my throat.
Mate!
Those silver eyes lock on me for a moment before they slide shut once again. But it’s enough. Mate, she’s my mate. How is that possible? I want to howl in confusion and happiness.
An urgency I have never felt fills me at not being alone anymore. Determination and strength that long ago left me returns. A bag washes up ashore, and I grab it and drag it free as another horn sounds.
They are coming for her. I need to hide her somewhere. They probably won’t cross the river, knowing what lingers beyond it—me. Looking back at the female, I debate how to carry her before I simply crouch down, grab her softly in my teeth, and toss her onto my back. Her arms dangle down around me as I take the bag in my mouth and turn away.
Trotting slowly through the trees, I balance her on my back so she doesn’t fall.
Mate…
I have a mate. Who thought that was possible?
And she’s fae…and hurt and being chased. Who is she and what do they want? Why is she out here in the forest and fleeing her own kind?
Does it matter?
No.
She’s mine now.
It’s slow going, but before sunrise, I manage to get her back to my den. After dragging some fur over her with my teeth, I circle and plop down at the entrance to protect her and keep her warm.
I can’t take my eyes off of her, even to sleep.
She’s beautiful, with long, silver hair and silver eyes. Her plump lips are pink in the middle and glittering silver on the outside. Her cheekbones are high and defined, her ears pointed and proud. She’s fae, that much is clear, and very powerful, if the magic seeping from her is anything to go by.
But who is she?
Fae don’t venture into the woods unless they are thrown here to be eaten by the monsters. And even then, they are only weak, powerless…or traitors. Is she a traitor to her kind? Is this her punishment? But then why was the Wild Hunt called after her?
I have so many questions and no way to ask her. She shows no sign of waking, she is out cold. Running my eyes down her body, I feel a stirring low in my loins, even in my wolf form. He rumbles with the word ‘mate’ again, and the urge to bite her, to mount her, fills me, but I stop us from going closer.
How is this possible?
How could I, a god, have a mate? It is the one truth we are taught since birth—no destined mates. Since we are the start of our bloodlines, there is no one to match our power. Yet this little fae is mine, but can she survive me?
How will this even work? I’m a fucking wolf, trapped inside this body, and her people are clearly hunting her. She can’t be caught. I mull it all over as I feel the sun rise, signalling the start of a new day. I hear the monsters and magical creatures that dwell in the dark lie down to slumber as the wild animals begin their calls again.
And just as I’m about to close my eyes to rest, her silver ones snap open and lock on me once more.
Alejandra
There’s a wolf staring at me.
I don’t know where I am. The last thing I remember is being in the water, of being tossed and turned. Even now, my ribs ache, and I feel my magic trying to heal me, which is probably why I passed out so quickly. I was more injured than I thought.
A wolf.
He watches me carefully with shining, iridescent purple eyes, the colour changing as he moves slightly. His large head is resting against his black paws, but this is no ordinary wolf. No, I have seen wolves, even conjured them once…this is a monster. He’s gigantic and all black apart, from some smatterings of white across his body. He’s so big, he doubles my height and size, yet he doesn’t attack me, and when I lift my head and scoot to my knees, I realise we are in a den of some kind. He brought me here? Who is this creature? I feel magic surrounding him, but there is something about those eyes that unnerve me. They are too much, too feeling, too human to be in such an animal’s face.
I don’t know why I don’t scream, why I don’t try to get away, other than he has not hurt me yet—the question is, why? I realise I’m just staring, so I clear my throat and wet my lips. “Thank you for saving me,” I tell him, and wince at the insult that will present if he’s an old fae of some kind. He raises his head at my voice, tilting it adorably to the side as he watches me.
I don’t feel fear for some reason. No, instead, I feel a kinship with this animal, a sort of thread looping between us, trying to draw me closer. I feel comforted and safe. It’s a strange mixture of sensations for me, since I never feel safe. Not anymore.
So why now?
And why with him?
It’s definitely a him, I can sense the masculine energy around him. His soul calls to mine with a grief-filled, yet hopeful howl. My own magic stirs, called by his, arching through me to try and get to him, but with years of practice, I manage to restrain it with a barely audible gasp.