Lycan Redemption

Chapter Eleven

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

Myka froze. She should have stayed in the bathroom, but she’d been trying to get to the phone. She’d desperately wanted to call Patrick and talk to him in case something happened to her. She had at least wanted to tell him that she loved him.

She turned slowly, keeping the iron poker concealed behind her leg. She was petrified beyond explanation, but her survival instinct was strong and hard at work probing her brain for solutions on how to get away from the threat she now faced.

Where was Galen? Had the wolves hurt him? Was he dead? She ignored the pain that sliced through her chest. He was not dead. She, on the other hand, could very well end up that way if she didn’t keep her head on straight. She edged toward the kitchen door slowly. Luckily, her intruder wasn’t between her and the door. She fought every urge to run for it. Something told her that would be the biggest mistake she could ever make. She remembered Galen telling her to walk slowly to the house before the wolves had appeared.

He’d sensed the danger before she had. Earlier, she’d disobeyed Galen and had run like hell to the house. This time, the threat was a whole lot closer. This time, she needed to heed Galen’s warning about going slow. The man standing in front of her had the same edge to him that Galen carried, only less refined. This man’s edge was feral, dominating, intruding . . . scary as shit.

He was a predator, and didn’t predators love it when their prey was scared? When their prey ran? Her heart pounded, pumping fresh adrenaline through her veins with each thump. This could not be happening. Werewolves? Men turning into monsters? None of this could be real. Yet she’d seen it with her own eyes.

“Such a pretty little thing,” the intruder said. He took a step closer and sniffed at the air. “Mmm. And you smell so fucking good too. Made for us you were.”

“I wasn’t made for anyone. Get out of my house, please,” she said softly.

He laughed. “I don’t think so. I think you are my ticket out of here, sweetheart.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean that if I save you, those angry lycans out there have to believe my story about Galen. Then they’ll kill him.”

“What story?” She desperately wanted to keep him talking. If he was talking, he was keeping a distance. If he was talking, she could continue edging toward the door. If he was talking, he would be distracted, and she might have a chance to escape.

He was big. Not as big as Galen, but big. And he was completely naked. Funny how she hadn’t noticed that until now. She’d been too focused on a plan of escape. Why in the hell was he naked? Several reasons flooded her mind and scared her even more, if that was even possible.

“Enough!” he snarled.

He was on her before she could react. She screamed, tried to break the hold he had on her arm—the one holding the now-useless fire poker. He was ridiculously strong, and her struggles were futile. He dragged her toward the front door.

When they entered the yard, they were suddenly surrounded by five men. One of them was Galen. Her eyes widened when she saw that he was black and blue and covered in blood and dirt from head to toe.

“Let her go, Terrance,” Galen growled.

“Looks like you got a good start on him.” Terrance eyed Galen’s wounds. “Why haven’t you killed him?” he asked the dark-haired man. “He had her locked up in the house. She’s a potential mate. Galen was using her.”

“No! He was not!” Myka protested. “He never hurt me.”

“Shut up!” Terrance screamed. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s been traumatized.”

“We all know you’ve been lying this whole time. Pretty much figured it out from the start. However, we had an obligation to investigate what you said before taking action.”

“Brent, man. You saw how beat to hell I was when I arrived at Sanctuary. It’s because I caught him raping that woman.”

“I would never rape a woman. I would never hurt any woman.” Galen spit the words at Terrance. “And I beat your ass because that’s exactly what you were attempting to do. Had you accomplished the act, you wouldn’t be standing here today. Do you think an ancient couldn’t finish the job of killing a young pup like you? And how was it that you were beaten so badly you couldn’t change to heal, yet you could make the two-day trip to Sanctuary? You are the biggest idiot in the world.”

“No! I was too weak to shift.” Terrance pounded his palm against his forehead several times. “No!”

“Let her go,” Galen said again.

Terrance laughed. The sound sent chills down Myka’s spine. “Why? So you can kill me? I don’t think so.”

“I will kill you whether you let her go or not. Your life is at its end, and you have no one to blame but yourself. You put your hands on my mate,” Galen said menacingly.

She gasped when long claws slightly curled from his fingertips, fangs grew from his mouth, and his eyes glowed bright. Her brain could barely process that what she was seeing was real. Then his words whispered through her brain. She was Galen’s mate? What the hell did that mean?

“No,” Brent said quietly. “You still haven’t hurt anyone. If you let her go, you can come back to Sanctuary with us. You can be reformed. It’s your only option other than death.”

“I’m not going back to that ridiculous place!” Terrance yelled in fury. “You are not my master. I don’t serve you. I don’t live by your rules. I’m free. I’m a predator. I can do whatever I like when I like.”

“Not if it includes hurting people,” the black-haired man said. “I used to be a rogue, Terrance. I’ve seen horrible things. It isn’t right. There is so much more out there than violence. I’ve reformed. You can too. We need you. Our race is dying out.”

“No! Now get away from me, or I’ll kill her!”

When Terrance adjusted his hold on her, Myka’s instincts took over. She stomped down on his foot, and when he yelped, she spun and drove the fire poker into his thigh. But when she turned to run, his hand shot out, and fingers curled into her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes when she slammed backward onto the hard ground with such force the wind was knocked from her lungs.

Her vision blurred, and she could hear Galen’s scream of fury. When she struggled to sit up, teeth clamped hard over her shoulder. She cried out as the razor-sharp points pierced her skin and muscle. The burn of the bite seared through her, and she felt nauseous. But as quickly as the pain had started, she was freed, and the sounds of Terrance’s screams grew fainter and fainter as he was dragged away.

“Myka? Angel? Are you okay?”

Galen’s voice penetrated her foggy mind, and she looked up into his beautiful face. Tears freely ran down his cheeks, and she was sure she’d never seen anything more beautiful than this glorious man weeping. But then it hit her. What could possibly make Galen cry?

“Am I dying?” She must have blacked out for a moment because she had no recollection of Galen picking her up and cradling her against his big chest while he sat on the ground.

“You are not dying.”

He was warm and smelled good. And damned if he wasn’t completely naked now. How had that happened? She squinted to look at him closer. He was still dirty and had smears of blood on him, but she didn’t see any bruises or wounds. Had she been so distraught that she’d imagined his injuries? Imagined his torn clothing? She wanted to close her eyes and snuggle against him and forget about everything that had just happened. Forget about the nightmare she had just lived.

Nightmare. Yes. This had to be, but suddenly she remembered Galen’s fangs and claws. Had she imagined that too? No. A shiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t imagined any of it.

“You turned into a monster,” she whispered.

She struggled to get away from him, but he held her tightly as his body slightly shook.

“I’m sorry. I never meant for you to find out like this. I wanted to ease you into the idea.”

“Ease me into the idea! There is no easing anyone into the idea that werewolves exist. I can’t cope with this. I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have a choice in the matter now,” he whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” She looked up at him again.

“You were bitten.”

“Yes. I was, and it hurt—still hurts like . . . Wait. Are you trying to tell me that I’m going to turn into a werewolf now?” She let out a hysterical shriek to keep from screaming because she knew if she started screaming, she may never stop.

He was silent, and the cold hand of dread tightened around her heart.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” she pleaded.

“I can’t. It should have been me that changed you.”

She pushed away from him, her shoulder screaming in agony at the movement. “No one should have changed me! I don’t want to be changed.”

“I would have never done so without your consent. This was forced upon you. This should never happen to anyone.”

“Is she going to be okay?” The voice came from behind them.

“Yes. I’ll make sure of it,” Galen answered.

“Anthony’s mate was turned the same way. Maybe she can help,” Brent said.

“No! No!” Myka struggled to her feet. “I want you both—all of you—off my land. Don’t ever come back. Just leave me the hell alone!”

How had this happened to her? She needed to go inside and climb into her nice warm bed. Her head pounded, her body ached, her shoulder was on fire, and she wanted this nightmare to be over. Surely if she went to sleep, she’d have a good laugh in the morning over the seriously fucked-up dream she’d just had. None of this could be real.

“I can’t leave you, Myka. I won’t let you go through this alone.” Galen stood slowly and took a step toward her.

She backed away from him, and he stopped. The pain that marred his beautiful face in obvious response to her rejection nearly sent her to her knees. The man she’d fallen in love with was not . . . She didn’t know what he was not, but she couldn’t be with him.

“I want you gone,” she said through clenched teeth as she turned and made her way toward the house.

After going inside, she locked the door. Yeah. A lot of good the locked doors and windows did earlier. She stumbled to the bathroom and started the shower. She winced as she peeled her now-ruined dress from her body. The fabric stuck to her shoulder, and she sobbed as she yanked it away from her skin. She stared down at the torn dress, and her chest ached. Maybe it was better this way. The dress that had meant so much to her earlier because it had come from Galen was beyond repair, just like her relationship with him.

After showering and washing the bite as best she could, she stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in a towel, trying to get up enough courage to look in the reflective glass that would make this nightmare all too real. Slowly she raised her eyes and stared at the punctures along her shoulder. She turned sideways and saw more on her back.

She was going to become a monster. Would she be a danger to Patrick? She began to cry. Her body shook with racking sobs that undulated through her. She couldn’t abandon Patrick. She loved him. He needed her. That was when she realized that no matter how much he’d hurt her, she needed Galen. He was the only one who could answer her question. Fear shot through her. She’d told him to leave. Was it too late? Had he already gone?

She ran to the front door, unlocked it, and jerked it open before running across the yard to the barn to find Galen standing by the stalls. His hair was damp, the dirt and blood were gone, and he had on jeans and a T-shirt.

“I got all of the horses back in their stalls.”

“I didn’t know they were gone.”

“Yes.”

“Galen, I, um—”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Oh.”

He gasped when he turned and looked at her. “You’re going to freeze out here. You only have on a towel.” He took a step closer, but stopped abruptly. He reached out toward her shoulder, but pulled his hand back before touching her.

“This changes everything.” She glanced down at the bite.

“I know.”

“I can’t be with you—not like we were—any longer, but I need you. You are the only one I can turn to who can help me through this.”

“Myka, I will never leave you. I love you. I will always love you. We were meant for one another, and whether you accept me or not, you are my mate, and I will protect you until the day I die.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. “But things are different now. I don’t know how I’ll feel in the future, but right now, I feel betrayed, hurt, and overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry. You’ll never know how much this hurts me. What happened tonight is my fault. If I had only been strong enough to leave you, to lure them away before all of this happened.”

“I’m tired. I don’t want to get into deep conversation right now. Just answer me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Am I a danger to Patrick?” She held her breath.

“No. You never will be either. He’s perfectly safe.”

She let the breath out in a whoosh. “Why were they chasing you?”

“Terrance, the one who bit you, told them I was a rogue. They’ve been chasing me for six months.”

“A rogue? That’s what Terrance was talking about. And what is Sanctuary?”

“A rogue is a lycan who doesn’t abide by our rules. Our species is in danger of dying out. All potential mates—like you—are of the utmost importance to our survival. If one is found, she is meant to be cherished, and kept safe at all costs. Rogues do not follow that law. They believe potential mates are fair game for torture, rape, and murder. They use them for amusement more times than not. Once a rogue has been located, if the potential for reformation is there, they are sent to Sanctuary to go through a program. If they reform, they are allowed to live.”

“And if they can’t be reformed?” She raised a brow.

“They are put down,” he answered quietly.

“Oh my God! That’s wrong. Why don’t you send them to prison?”

“We can’t. Think about it. If humans find out about our existence, we will be hunted to extinction. We are already facing it as it is. That’s why potential mates are so important.”

“How do you know I’m a potential mate? How do you know I’m your mate?”

“All potential mates have two scents—one that all lycans can smell, the other only a fated mate can smell. I can smell both on you. That means you are my fated mate.”

“If another lycan, one besides you, had found me, what would have happened?”

“Nothing. You would have been watched. Protected. And any honorable single male in the area would have been free to see if you were his. If you were, he would have been free to approach you. It would always have been your choice, though. No potential mate is ever forced to accept a mate or change. Ever. Not by an honorable lycan. Unfortunately, rogues are not honorable. I’m sorry the choice was taken from you tonight.”

“Are the others gone?”

“Yes. They won’t bother you again.”

“What about Terrance?”

“I’m not sure. I can only assume he has already been dealt with. He hurt you. He would have had no problem murdering you for his own gain. And I will not lie to you. Had things been different, had I gotten my hands on him, I would have killed him for hurting you. He lied about me. I gave him a chance when, in my heart, I knew he was beyond reformation. It’s my fault. All of it. I should have taken care of the problem. Instead, I let it get out of hand, and my mistake caused you pain.”

“I’m going to bed now. You and I will have a long talk tomorrow. Patrick won’t be home until the day after.” She turned to go back to the house, when his words stopped her.

“You love me?”

She kept her back to him as her shoulders sagged. “Yes, but as I said, things are different now.”

She continued to the house, where she crawled into bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.

He’d lost her. Myka would never trust him again. Galen tore his clothes off and let his wolf roar to the surface. He ran for the woods with sorrow burning through his soul as brightly as the sun. He’d finally found his mate, and now he’d lost her. She said she loved you. It didn’t matter. He’d seen the hurt shining in her eyes.

She wanted him to stay, but for how long? Once she learned everything she needed to know about lycans, after she shifted for the first time, would she send him packing? He’d no longer be of use to her after that. Even if she did ask him to leave, he’d never go far away. He’d watch over her for the rest of his life. He had a little over three weeks before the next full moon, before her first change. He’d convince her to stay with him before then. Somehow he’d make her trust him again. He had to. He was lost without her.

He howled his pain to the sky and ran until his muscles clenched in pain from being overused. Hours later, he stared down at her while she slept. He’d have to fix her door tomorrow. The lock was broken, which was probably how Terrance had gotten in so easily.

She moaned as a scowl marred her delicate features. She was dreaming. Then an idea hit him. He turned to leave, but couldn’t resist fingering a soft curl before heading back to the barn. He would find a way to make her want him again, make her understand that they were meant for one another.