The Lost Mate

Max

Gramps’s good eye was focused on me with rapt interest, curious to hear my tale. Sympathy surged for the isolated old man sitting in the dirt beside me in spite of how little I wanted to expose my suffering.

“I found my mate when we were still in high school. Instantly fell in love.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale,” he commented with a sardonic smile on his weatherworn face.

“It was like one. We were happy. We were both going to work for the pack. Have kids. Grow old together.” My chest tightened at the dreams that now seemed so far away.

“Guessing it wasn’t that easy.”

“No. We were at Glenhaven when it was destroyed.”

“Glenhaven, huh? Think I heard about that one. Your mate dead now?”

His words made my chest constrict more tightly. “No. She was released while I was still held for execution. For the crime of trying to protect my pack from the invaders.” There was bitterness in the words. If that murderous alpha hadn’t been so insistent on punishing us I may have never gotten separated from Lillian. If he hadn’t slaughtered our pack in the first place...

That one horrifying night had forever altered so many lives.

“Well, I can see that didn’t happen. So then why aren’t you two living your happy ever after?”

“Because I can’t find her.”

“And you’re sure she’s not dead?”

“She’s not dead. I can still feel her.”

He shrugged. “Things happen. Maybe you’re wrong.”

I didn’t want to talk about her anymore, not when he was suggesting that she really was lost to me, and not when it seemed like it wouldn’t be any further help to me in my search. I’d already told so many people what had happened during my years of trying to find her, and every time was like scraping an old wound and exposing it all over again. So I changed the subject. “So what brought you here?”

He laughed. “Some sick mishmash of choices and misfortune. Can’t tell which, really.” I believed him. He was thin and brittle looking. No werewolf became so rundown for a happy reason.

I sighed and dug around in my bag and found an energy bar. I hadn’t eaten a lot of the food I’d brought from Glenshadow since we’d been hunting the whole way and Nash was so effective at it. “Here,” I said, holding it out to him.

“Not too bright, are you? Flashing stuff like this around here?” He clicked his tongue at me reprovingly, although he still grabbed it and tucked it into the folds of his clothing as quick as lightning.

I shrugged. “It’s thanks for the help.”

“Well, I guess it won’t matter either way. You reek of pack, and you’re in too good condition to fit in properly anyway. Even Nash looks healthier than he used to. Pack life’s treating him well, huh?”

I didn’t want to say too much about Nash. His business was his own. “Yeah.”

“Never thought I’d see the day. I’m still amazed he hasn’t gotten himself killed by your alpha.”

“Alpha Jason has excellent control of himself. And Nash is trying.” It was true. Jason handled the power better than a lot of born alphas. And Nash faithfully did what he was told, albeit sometimes resentfully.

“Well that’s like hitting the jackpot twice in a row.”

“Yeah.” There was no point in arguing, the pack resentment in him clearly ran deep.

I was just beginning to wonder where specifically Nash had gone and if I’d have to go and get him myself when I heard footsteps approaching. Nash appeared perfectly unharmed. My body relaxed a bit at the sight. “Fennel says you can come talk to him now,” he announced.

“Good luck,” Gramps said and I thanked him as I turned to leave.

Nash frowned as we walked. “Remember, keep your head down, speak when spoken to, and don’t challenge him.” I guessed he thought it was safe to use the link since no one was nearby. Good to know I was allowed to use it at certain arbitrary times.

“So treat him like a paranoid alpha?”

Nash jerked. “Don’t say that.”

“I won’t.” If these wolves were going to play like they weren’t pack simply because they refused the blood ceremony, it was none of my business. I wasn’t planning to recklessly get myself killed. Lillian was still out there somewhere waiting for me to find her. Dying before I had a chance to hold her again wasn’t going to happen if I had anything to say about it.

We arrived at a rundown abandoned building on the edge of a small rural community. Nash pushed open the door and the scent of rogue hit me hard. A burly looking werewolf on the inside stepped back to allow us to enter.

Once inside, it was clear that we were in a former boxing gym, although now the equipment was largely broken or absent, and the original ropes were missing on the ring. Judging from the damaged state of the place, countless rogues had used it for its intended purpose over the years, although at the moment it was fairly empty besides a few tough looking rogues guarding entrances and exits, and one who I could only guess was Fennel.

From my peripheral vision I could see his hair was black and pulled back into a ponytail behind his head, and that he wasn’t as burly as his subordinates, although I knew better than to judge power by size alone. He felt like an alpha, even if he didn’t want to be called by the title or hold the connection of the group like one. His authority didn’t really affect me as much as it should have since my wolf wasn’t aware enough to be intimidated, although predictably Nash’s form tensed beside me.

I stopped when Nash did, following his lead. Fennel spoke, confirming my conclusions on his identity. “Nash told me plenty about you. You’ve got a real tale of woe, haven’t you?”

“Probably not worse than anyone else here.”

He laughed. “He told me I’d like you, and he may have been right. A likeable pack wolf, who would have figured?”

“Maybe it’s my couple of rogue years that you’re sensing.”

He chuckled. “Guessing the wild life wasn’t for you. Well, I won’t hold your conformity against you. It takes a certain sort of wolf to be one of us. Now, come sit down, and tell me your story, and I’ll see if I can help you.”

He led me over to some couches in a reception area and I began speaking, describing what had happened from the Glenhaven massacre onwards, what I knew of Lillian’s supposed direction, and what she looked like. I met his eyes a few times while I spoke and I recognized sharp ruthless intelligence in him. He was a dangerous wolf. The eye contact seemed to amuse him, not upset him, while he listened intently.

He was quiet for a long moment. “Well, I can’t help you specifically with your mate, just yet. There were a lot of wolves doing a lot of things after that massacre, but most of the ones I had contact with were looking for shelter and places to hide, afraid that Stonemason may be coming for them. I was already leading the Red Wolves back then and I’m sure no one by her name sought our help.”

I was barely disappointed because it was the same answer I had been given countless times before. Deep down, I expected it. It was like my mate had simply vanished from existence.

But I knew she had not. The bond was alive, and that meant so was she.

“But I do have a piece of information that you may find interesting.”

My ears perked, but I tried not to look too eager. “How much do you want for the information?”

He smiled but it was cold. “I’m going to give you a freebie, because I like you and because it’s a long shot.”

I was uneasy with the idea of getting anything for free for a rogue, because nothing was ever truly free, but I didn’t try to stop him from speaking.

“There’ve been quite a few rumours of disappearances of various creatures, mostly human, between Whiteforest and Rustknoll over the years.”

Nash flinched beside me, but I barely noticed because of my disappointment at the useless information.

Fennel continued speaking, watching me. “I will keep your description of your mate in mind and contact you if I hear anything that points in her direction. Of course, if anything else does come up, it’ll cost you.”

“Of course,” I agreed easily and gave him my contact info. More eyes would only benefit me, and I didn’t care if they were doing it out of altruism or for a reward.

Several of the burly werewolves had joined us while we had been talking. “It was good to meet you, Max, but I’m afraid I have another appointment. Good luck on your search.”

“Thank you,” I said, standing up. Nash tried to do the same, but one of the werewolves grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him back down into place.

“What the hell?” he snarled, trying to struggle free, although he was no match for the number of guards that were with Fennel.

“Afraid there’s a price for information about your whereabouts on your head, and the reward’ll be higher if the information I sell is that you’re securely in my hands and ready for pickup.”

Fennel glanced towards me with a cold, blank gaze that should have intimidated my wolf. “But I’ve got no problem with you. Walk away, Max.”