Mated To The Wrong Alpha
Chapter 49

Surrounded by the quiet stillness of the woods, she sat at the bottom of the ravine, listening to the sound of her own laboured breathing. Every square inch of her body hurt. She’d completed what felt like a herculean task by working herself into a sitting position and sliding her way over to the base of a small tree. Now, as she leaned against the trunk, she fought against the waves of blackness that threatened to overtake her. The move had been excruciating and her immediate plan, to put as much distance between herself and this location before Marla returned, would have to wait until the urge to vomit and faint had passed.

She had no idea how she was going to get out of this mess she’d landed in. Her cell phone was at home and her attempt to contact Arthur, seeking him out with her mind, had only resulted in a mere spark of sensation that may or may not have been him. Regardless of what is was, it had quickly fizzled out leaving her feeling empty and alone once again.

Staring up at the sky, she watched as more snowflakes began to fall. They landed on her face and caught in her lashes. It was actually quite pretty, she mused, letting her mind drift away from the pain that shot through her with every breath. If she was back at the Alpha house, she’d be sitting in the kitchen sipping a fresh cup of coffee and watching Helen bake. The mug would be warm in her hands and the smell of fresh baked cookies would fill the air while they chatted about pack life. In her dream world, Arthur would come walking in and place his hands on her shoulders. Then he’d nuzzle her neck and trail his warm lips along her jaw until their mouths met in a slow, warm k**s. She smiled at the thought and let her eyes drift shut, cherishing the picture.

She must have drifted off, for the cry of a blue jay had her becoming aware of her surroundings with a start. Grey rocks jutted out of the dark soil that composed the sides and base of the ravine while sickly thin saplings and dried weeds haphazardly popped up here and there. Evidence of what might be a stream in wetter weather could be seen meandering down the centre of the ravine floor, but at present only the tiniest trickle of water was evident.

Looking down towards her injured leg, she saw that a small amount of snow had accumulated around her and she realized that she was shivering. Her warm wolf fur would come in handy right now, but she hesitated to change forms. Her leg was broken, and she wasn’t sure how shifting would affect it. Could the reshaping of the bone cause further damage or would it help it to heal faster? And then again, did she even want it to heal faster if it wasn’t properly set? Could she end up with a permanently damaged leg or one that needed to be re-broken in order to be corrected? She decided to hold off changing forms as long as possible, but if necessary, she’d risk being lame over being dead.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it had broken in the fall, so she had no real idea of the time. Squinting up at the sky, a very hazy glow from the sun could be seen through the cloud cover. From its position, she assumed it was almost noon. By now, Mr. Mancini would be having a fit that she hadn’t shown up for her shift at the Grey Goose, though Arthur had forbidden her to work there anymore. She wondered if he’d meant it, or even remembered having uttered the words; it had been said in the heat of the moment after all. The way Arthur had ranted and ordered her around yesterday still rankled underneath the hurt of his rejection. When she saw him again— if she ever saw him again—she’d have to clear that up. She liked her job. It was just waitressing, but she was becoming good at it and enjoyed interacting with people. Working at the Grey Goose was her first taste of independence and she wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

She gave a dry laugh. Why was she getting so worked up about her job at a time like this? Staying alive was a more pressing matter. Her stomach chose that moment to rumble and she recalled that she hadn’t eaten breakfast, instead spending her time telling Helen her troubles. She remembered with longing the delicious smells that had been floating around the kitchen earlier. Everyone would be gathering at the Alpha house now and enjoying Helen’s lunch of scalloped potatoes and baked ham. Would anyone notice she was missing and wonder where she was? Would Arthur try to establish a connection with her in order to locate her? Once again, she tried to contact him, but soon gave up in frustration. If he was receiving her, he wasn’t giving any acknowledgement of the fact.

Damn him for being so stubborn and pigheaded! Her anger started to grow. If he had only listened to her, rather than believing all the evidence against her, he’d have left the connection between them open. Then he’d know she was in trouble and get his butt over here. A part of her said she was being unfair. If the tables had been turned and she’d seen him hugging Marla, along with reading love notes and tape-recorded messages, she’d be inclined to see him as guilty too. Still, she’d like to think that she’d have checked up on his well-being now and then, especially if he didn’t show up for a meal and had left no explanation.

Running her fingers through her hair, she realized that the temperature must have risen. She wasn’t feeling as cold any more. In fact, a thin film of sweat was forming on her brow and she unzipped her jacket, closing her eyes and relishing the feeling of the cool air as it hit her overheated body. Ah, that felt better. Suddenly she popped open her eyes. Oh no! Not now! She was becoming used to reading the signals her body gave out; one of those waves was approaching again. Dammit, heat cycles were supposed to be fun. So far not a single one had lived up to her expectations. Arthur had been away for the first, mad at her for the second and now, who knew where the he might be!

Well, she wasn’t going to hang around waiting for him. She’d funnel all her frustration into trying to escape the ravine. There were a few sticks nearby that might serve as a crutch and slowly, painfully, pulled herself over to them. After testing several, she took the longest and sturdiest one available and, using the tree for support, heaved herself up into a standing position. Once upright, she swayed precariously until the world quit tilting and then slowly began to hobble in a northerly direction.

After only a few steps, she was bathed in perspiration, the pain shooting up from her leg was almost unbearable, but she forced herself to keep moving. She had to get away. Marla was returning with plans to kill her and no one knew where she was. No one was coming to rescue her; she had only herself to rely on. Focusing solely on walking, she repeated the patterned movement over and over in her head: balance on the good leg, move the stick forward, use it for balance while hopping ahead, swallow hard and ignore the pain each lurching step caused, then repeat.

Her good leg was starting to tremble with fatigue. Reluctantly, she stopped and leaned against a tree, panting for breath. It felt like she’d been travelling for ages. Glancing backward to see how far she’d come, she wanted to scream; she could still see Rose’s crumpled body, now partially covered with snow. All her efforts had gained her was a few hundred yards. Tears of frustration and self-pity swam in her eyes and she brushed them away, sniffing inelegantly. She couldn’t give in, she had to keep trying. Where was all that anger and frustrated s****l energy when she needed it?

Squaring her shoulders, she made another hopping step forward and then cried out in fear as her makeshift crutch slipped on the snowy ground and she fell forward. Twisting midair, she managed to protect her face by landing on her shoulder. The air left her body in a whoosh as she hit the partially frozen earth and she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. This time she allowed the tears to fall, beating the ground as she vented. She knew it was totally unproductive but didn’t care. She was scared. She hurt. Her hormones were raging, and quite frankly, life sucked!

When she was finally done sobbing, she felt only marginally better. While the crying jag seemed to have curbed the heat, she still hurt all over and was more scared than she ever thought possible. Lying on the ground she gave a forlorn hiccup and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. She had to get up and keep trying. No way was she waiting for Marla to come and finish her off. Rolling over, she manoeuvred herself into a sitting position and began to look around for something to use to help lever herself upward.

In the middle of her search, the faintest of sounds reached her ears and she froze, listening intently as she tried to decipher what it might be. Heavy breathing, footsteps—no, make that paws—and a slight snuffling sound. Someone was coming in wolf form and they were sniffing, following a trail.

Was Marla back already? Or maybe Julia had decided to join her and Rose? Could it be Arthur finally coming to rescue her? Should she call out, assuming it was a friend? But what if it was Marla? No use in tipping the woman off.

Scooting herself back towards a tangle of shrubs, she attempted to conceal herself. She’d watch and see who appeared. If it was rescue, she’d call out. If it was Marla, well, she’d stay hidden as long as possible, and then fight tooth and nail for her life when the time came.

Minutes passed like hours as she listened to the sounds growing louder. Whoever was coming was approaching with caution, picking their way along, sniffing carefully. She forced herself to breathe slowly and lightly in order not to make a sound, keeping her eyes sharply fixed on the point where she felt the wolf would first appear.

Her vigilance was finally rewarded and she gave a slight gasp of relief. A large black wolf was coming into sight. Arthur was looking for her! She began to lean forward, but then paused. Something was wrong; the way the wolf moved, the set of his ears… It wasn’t Arthur, nor was it any wolf she’d encountered before. Sniffing, she tried to pick up his scent, but the wind was blowing the wrong direction. Narrowing her gaze, she studied the animal.

It stood poised at the top of the ravine almost exactly where she and Rose had tumbled over the edge. Slowly the wolf scanned the area and she resisted the urge to move backward, aware that any movement on her part would draw the beast’s attention. Thankfully, its gaze passed over her and fell upon Rose’s body. With a yip, the wolf made its way down the steep slope and nuzzled the corpse.

Biting her l*p, she considered her options. She could stay hidden or call out for help, but she didn’t know who this person was. Were they a friend, someone just passing through, or possibly even an accomplice of Marla and Rose that she hadn’t yet heard of?

The decision became moot when the wolf began to sniff around Rose’s body and then, obviously picking up her scent, began to head her way. Reaching around for her walking stick, she held it firmly in her hands. It wasn’t much protection, but it was better than nothing.

Closer and closer the wolf came. She could feel her heart beating faster and her palms becoming sweaty. She shifted her grip on the stick and raised it in preparation for swinging as hard as she could. The wolf stopped a few feet from her hiding spot and gave a whine. Licking her lips, she hesitated. It was a friendly, non-threatening greeting. She opened her mouth to speak, and then blinked. The wolf was looking directly at her and had the most incredible blue eyes.

The air shimmered and the wolf disappeared, only to be replaced by the best-looking man she’d ever seen, after Arthur. In fact, the man was almost a carbon copy of Arthur, except for the eyes and a few subtle variations in the slant of the nose and breadth of shoulder. This had to be the mysterious Ryne!