Page 11 of Come for Me
With my mouth open, I gape at her, not sure what to say.
She smiles wide and squeals with glee.
Oh, she’s messing with me.
I shake my head, pointing at her. “You got me.”
“Bloodhound pack, it’s time for the Moon Goddess’s blessings.”
The witch soothes us with enchantments, stripping our abilities to sense our mates.
She leads Luna Kathy to the doors. “This way, ladies.”
One by one, we file into a line again. As I walk over the threshold, the scent of leather and spice wafts in my direction. My wolf feels restless and calm at the aroma.
Only for panic to burrow deep as I register what this means...
Mate!
All the male wolves’ scents are covered... Then how is my wolf sensing our mate? Unless the witch missed the enchantment of one lone male.Unlikely.
Whoever I’m smelling must be someone who isn’t participating in the Hunt but was here recently, which would explain why their scent is so strong. My guess is, it’s someone from the Crescent pack who’s been inside the castle walls before. The smell makes my wolf want to roll over and spread her legs.
I lose myself basking in his pure dominance, finding empowerment in his strength, until my anxiety ruins the moment.
If I can smell him, can he smell me?
My breathing hitches as I think of what I could lose if my mate finds me:home. Taya. Jemma. Mom. Me.
My mind fogs over from the overwhelmingly delicious scent, and I picture what he must look like.Who is he?
As I follow my luna and fellow she-wolves through the castle, I try to distract myself with its interior. The grand staircase before us rise to the floors above, winding toward a stained glass ceiling.
Did my mate caress the banister when he left for the ceremony?
I shake my head of its thoughts and shift my focus to the corridor. Great care and skill went into the castle’s construction. Each detail appears purposeful, designed to celebrate the royal pack. Near the ceremonial hall, the craftsmanship of the crown moulding showcases the delicate intricacies of wolves running through the forest.
My mate’s scent has become more potent, making my wolf drunk off the full-bodied essence.
My wolf urges me to find him and make him ours. I imagine basking in his aroma as he fills me with his seed, sinking his teeth into my neck. In excitement, my body buzzes, the promise of my mate’s claim pooling delicious heat between my thighs. The thought of his tongue tasting me and his scent on mine.
Focus, I bark at myself.
The bond is already clouding my judgment and getting in the way of my future. It’s a threat to my plan, holding onto who I am and everything I’ve known and loved my entire life. It dissolves the sheer tether to my mother and severs my chance at finding my origin. Despite what I’m feeling, I can’t want him. But the ache and need settling in my pussy has claimed otherwise.
Caleb will just have to kill him.
Immediate pain and rage boils inside me. I try to shake the feeling by reasoning with logic.My mate could be an awful person who kills without purpose and commits heinous crimes.
I try to hold my breath to avoid inhaling his heady incense.
Turning the corner, I startle at an eruption of growls and shouting as bodies slam against cage walls.
The wolves sense we’re approaching and can hear our heartbeats quicken at the sounds of their fever echoing in the corridor. Snarls and gnashing teeth interweave with the howls and desperate threats of wolves separated from their fated.
If not for the silver and steel surrounding the wolves, strewn across the space would be a bloody mess of fur and bone as they tear apart their competition. Restraints madden the wolves and propel their desire to hunt their prey. They are beasts demanding freedom, demanding their mates.
The instinct to mark and claim fated mates is heightened by the presence of other viable males who threatened their bond and, therefore, their existence.
