Revolting

Chapter Thirty Eight - Rejection William

"Nobody move!" Michael bellowed, "Ten, hold your fire!" There was a panicked edge to Michael's voice as he continued to stare across the clearing at Hannah. He was spellbound, unable to take his eyes off from the tiny young woman. Hannah ignored the order not to move, and started to approach Michael, almost reluctantly, as if she were being pulled toward him by some invisible magnet.

"Hannah, don't!" Heath whispered, reaching for her, but I caught his arm, and shook my head at him in warning. This was a delicate and precarious situation, and Michael was a wild card. There was no telling how he was going to react. Hannah stopped before him, and I was struck by the appearance of the two of them. Michael was a huge bull of a man, and Hannah was a little sprite of a woman. He was dark and dangerous; she was light and angelic. She looked like a small child in front of him. She stood close to him; her head tipped up to look into his face. She was both horrified and transfixed.

"You are a rogue," Michael growled, stating the obvious. I saw her hands curl into fists at her sides. She said nothing.

"You are a woman." I felt like palming myself in the face. Michael had lost all his suave charm in his befuddled state. Hannah's fisted hands moved to her hips. Any normal man would have seen that as a warning and a danger sign, but Michael was not at his sharpest.

"What happened to your face?" There was an edge of disgust to his voice, as his eyes moved over her scars.

Hannah moved with the sudden swiftness of a poisonous snake making a strike. Her little hand lashed out and cracked across his cheek with a resounding smack. "What happened to yours?" she snarled between clenched teeth. Beside me Heath snorted and then coughed into his hand.

Michael's eyes widened in shock, and his hand went to his stinging cheek. I could see the emotions fighting in his face, he didn't know whether to be angered by the slap, or awed by the sparks that had erupted on contact with her small hand. "You smell delicious," he said, licking his lips.

She wrinkled her nose. Her eyes moved from his face, to his hands, taking in the bow and the arrow, with the poisoned silver tip. "You shot my brother?" her voice was quiet, dangerously so, but Michael didn't get it.

"He's a rogue," Michael said stupidly. "The only good rogue is a dead rogue."

She ran her hand suggestively down the shaft of the arrow. "Then you will kill me too?"

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Michael made a strangled sound. "No! You're... mate." Goddess I think he was two seconds away from turning into a drooling Neanderthal. He couldn't even speak in complete sentences. I knew the feeling, I understood how shocking it was the first time you saw your mate.

She wrapped her fingers around the arrow and took it from the bow. Michaels hands had gone lax, he would have let her do anything she wanted at that point. I think she could have plunged the arrow into his heart, and he wouldn't have even flinched.

"What is your name?" Hannah demanded. She wasn't looking at him, she was looking at the arrow, running a finger along the blade.

Michael choked, "Don't do that! If it cuts you..."

"Your name?"

"Bishop," beads of sweat were popping out along his forehead. "Michael Bishop."

"Michael Bishop," she tried out the name on her lips. "You know what you smell like?" She stepped closer, her nose almost in her chest, and breathed deeply. Michael groaned at her closeness. "You smell like honey, and ginger," her voice was breathy, but she stepped back and held up the arrow to his face. "You smell like the enemy." In one deft move she snapped the arrow in half, and then drove the poisoned end down into the earth at his feet. She threw the fletched end back at him, and he caught it out of the air.

"Michael Bishop, I reject you as my mate." It was hard to say who was more surprised. I heard Heath gasp beside me. I felt my own mouth drop open. I felt like I should warn her, or stop her, or...

Michael grabbed ahold of his stomach and doubled over, his face pale and contorted with pain. I almost felt sorry for him, until he opened up his mouth and muttered, "Rogue bitch." Insults aside, he dropped down to his knees, and I could see tears forming in his eyes. Now that he was down to her level, she easily divested his quiver of the remaining arrows.

"And don't you forget it!" She growled back. She was not unaffected by the rejection. Her breath was coming in gasps, and she was staggering, but her stubborn temper kept her upright.

Around us in the woods, I felt the warriors shift in uncertainty and discomfort, but they didn't dare move until they got orders from their Alpha.

She went back to the edge of the clearing and swiped up baskets, stomping her feet in the dirt. "Let's go," she barked at us. Heath jolted into action, and grabbed his pack from the lean-to. Then he grabbed my arm and started dragging me away, before Michael recovered himself. Hannah swept the remainder of their modest belongings into the basket. She took one long, last look at Michael, who was still on his knees starting at her, his expression twisted and broken. Hannah sighed and shook her head, her shoulders drooping some as the anger seemed to drain out of her. "See you around, Michael Bishop,"