Page 18 of Escaping Monsters

Chapter Seven

The whole world spun on its axis as I watched Jasper walk away into the forest.

Jasper’s words echoed through my mind. I was the werewolf who challenged Kane on the basis that you were my mate. It was impossible. I had never, not once, got wind of anything about someone challenging Kane. He’d never received a challenge, let alone one on the basis that I was another werewolf’s mate.

“That never happened,” I called as I followed after Jasper.

He crouched down, and fur rippled across his skin. The transformation from man to a large gray wolf took only seconds, and seeing it, stole my breath. I had only ever seen Kane transition so smoothly, and he was centuries old. It took me a few minutes to transform and days to recover before I had the energy to do it again. Jasper changed like it was as easy as breathing to him.

“You can’t just say that and then go turn into a wolf,” I said. “I deserve more of an explanation.”

Jasper looked back and nodded on toward the forest, and I got his message loud and clear. The alpha werewolf had every intention of dropping that world-shattering truth bomb on me and not saying a word more about it.

“Do you think you’re my mate?” I asked.

Jasper chuffed and started walking. He was walking at a pace a toddler could keep up with, but he was definitely leaving me and my questions behind. Annoyance surged in my chest. The fact that I was naked and human while Jasper was in his fur suddenly pissed me off but if I tried to change, I’d more than likely make myself pass out and stay human.

Even though I wasn’t trying to keep up with the alpha werewolf, I kept falling into step beside him. “I’m not calling you a liar, Jasper, but I was under the impression Kane had never been challenged. He told me that all the time. I’m sure there’s a story there, and you clearly don’t want me to know it, so I’m guessing the challenge was about your relationship with Kane and not about me, right? Mate challenges are one of the only ways you can challenge another alpha without starting a war, so it makes sense. And, Kane won? No one ever told me.”

The werewolf only walked on, not reacting to anything I said. It was like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall, and I sighed and gave up. When we reached the two sleeping wolves, I hopped up and knocked my backpack off the branch. Dragging it around the tree, I redressed quickly and threw it on my back. A low burning sensation churned in my stomach. I could eat a whole deer right now and probably still be hungry.

Low voices rose from where I left the guys, and before I was finished lacing up my shoes, Declan rounded the tree.

“Wait, please don’t leave, Teagan,” he said as he adjusted his pants and pulled up his fly. He grabbed his shirt from a low-hanging branch and pulled it over his head. “I mean… will you please not leave?”

“Don’t worry, Declan, it wasn’t an order. You have to tell me to do something explicitly for it to count.” I pulled my jeans over the tongue of my shoes and straightened. “And, you guys convinced me—and my stomach convinced me—to come to your packhouse. That is… if you still want me to.”

The grin that spread over the massive werewolf’s face was so big it threatened to run off his cheeks entirely. He rubbed a hand over his buzzed hair and said, “Fuck yeah, Cherry on Top, we want you to come to our packhouse.”

I laughed. “Wait, what? No, cherry on top is not a thing.”

“You know, it just came out, but it fits.” His brows lifted. “Like the cherry on top of a malt. The best part of a good thing.”

“Cherry on Top. It sounds like dirty—like one-hundred percent dirty, and every single person who hears that will take it that way.” I shook my head, but I was chuckling, and I couldn’t help it. “Please tell me that’s not something that you’re planning on calling me.”

His eyes twinkled with mirth. “How about I just call you Cherry, so only you and I know what it really means?”

“This is a very bad idea.” What the hell was I signing myself up for by going with them to their packhouse? I honestly didn’t know, but damn, the sweet fluttering feeling in my gut felt wonderful.

Lucas rounded the tree and leaned against it. “What’s a bad idea? If it’s one of Declan’s schemes, please just don’t hurt yourself any further.” Lucas looked half asleep. His dark hair was tousled and eyes half-lidded. His button-up shirt had one button off, and the collar was askew. “I feel like a broken record, but if your bandage is off, I should probably check your hand.” He pulled out his penlight again and clicked his tongue. His nostrils flared as his gray eyes came up to meet mine, fully awake now. “Do I want to know how you managed to get so much dirt in your wound in your sleep?”

My gaze slid over to where Jasper was deeper in the forest, pulling on a shirt. He clearly hadn’t told Lucas that the faerie queen had lured me off.

“Special talent,” I said as I looked back into the good vet’s concerned gaze. “I’m sorry that I’m such a pain in the ass patient.”

“Well, since you haven’t tried to bite, burn, or stab me, you’re one of my better patients. I’m just worried about your healing, and I don’t have the supplies to properly flush this out here, so we’re going to have to head back to the clinic.”

“Teagan is planning on coming home with us,” Jasper said as he emerged from behind the tree. He’d pulled on his jacket and motorcycle boots, and his dark hair was swept to the side.

Lucas’ head rocked back. “You are?”

“For right now, yeah. Can I fix your buttons?” I reached toward his shirt, and when he nodded, I undid the top button and put it in the right hole, then I worked my way down.

A flash of memory pushed its way into my mind of me insisting on buttoning up the imposter Kane’s shirt. It was on the night of our rehearsal dinner, and the man who I believed was my future husband had a button out of place. As I fixed his shirt, I remembered thinking that this was love. This was what intimacy with my husband felt like, wanting to fix his buttons and having him smile down at me. It felt like such a naive and pathetic fantasy now.

My memory brought up another image. A button-up shirt with crimson staining down the front. Slashed flesh. A half-eaten corpse.

“Happy Anniversary, Teagan. Now you can finally be free of your hate…”