The Reluctant Mate

Amanda

The wolves continued to aggressively pace and prevent me from escaping, but then most of them moved further away, like they had one mind. They didn’t go far enough for my relief, and the big growly one didn’t go anywhere. I was shaking more as I sneakily reached for my phone trying to avoid sudden movements that might recapture their attention.

The pack disappeared into the darkness, and the wolf nearest me whined, before slowly moving away as well.

Were they letting me go?

I didn’t wait to find out. I rushed forward and managed to slam my head into another branch. I stumbled backwards, dazed.

Someone grabbed me, and I shrieked. They’d be after me again! I tried to yank my hand from the iron grip, and then—

“Amanda!”

I would have cried with relief if I weren’t freaking out. “Shit! Shit, Carrie, there’re wolves, I swear I saw—” I shook my head. I did not see humans transforming into wolves. Werewolves were impossible. Or were they? I had seen what I had seen. “We have to get out of here, fast, before they come back. I lost my flashlight, but we’ve got to keep moving.”

I began to pull her along, Carrie yanking on me from time to time, clearly having as much difficulty as I was without sight. I slammed my leg into something hard, and it stung. Crap, needed my flashlight so that I could get us out of here. Oh, I could use my phone—

Then my memory flashed to the indistinct figure beside Carrie’s boyfriend I’d barely looked at since I was so fixated on Porter. I lurched to a halt. “You’re one of them. That’s why you’re here!”

“I—”

“Don’t even lie to me. You’re all werewolves, or something crazy like that! I just saw people turn into wolves, and you showed up right when they left! Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Of course not, Amanda. You’re my friend.”

I scowled at her through the darkness. “If I’m really your friend, then call off your wolves and let me go.”

“I can’t do that, at least not until—”

I didn’t give her time to react, I ran forward in the darkness, and straight into someone solid and warm.

I screamed and stumbled backwards, right into Carrie...the werewolf!?

Jerking away, I ran straight back into the other one. Before I had a chance to react again, I was hoisted into the air and thrown over his shoulder. “Put me down!” I demanded as he started walking through the forest.

I struggled, but he ignored my punches on his back, and he was holding me by my legs so I could barely move them. “Someone help! I’m being kidnapped by freaking monsters! Help!”

“No one can hear you. And I’m not going to hurt you,” Porter said.

“Porter!? What the hell? I made myself clear, I told you to stay away from me, damn it!”

“I did stay away. I did exactly what you demanded and I was going to keep doing that. But, you’re the one who came sneaking around here after you said you don’t want anything to do with me.” His voice was deep with something dark, and it scared me. And maybe excited me. Ugh, I was so screwed up. I blame my shitty parents.

I tried flailing again. “I didn’t ask for this!”

“You were trespassing!”

“That doesn’t give you a right to kidnap me, you bastard! And for that matter, you—hey, wait a second! Where’s your shirt? Are you naked right now!?” The audacity! I sank my teeth into the back of his arm since nothing else I was doing seemed to work.

He growled at me. Double the audacity! “Stop growling at me!” As scared as I was, for some reason I wasn’t quite as scared as I had been, and my anger was starting to fill in the gaps.

“Then don’t bite me!”

“I’ll bite any freak monster who kidnaps me naked!”

“You weren’t complaining about me being naked last time.”

“Bastard!” I struggled harder and tried to squirm away as he continued walking as if he didn’t even notice my struggles. His grip was as solid as iron. How was he this strong?

Oh, right, werewolf. I suppose Hollywood had got at least one thing right.

I sagged. I was screwed...but I had my phone, still poking into the side of my breast under my bra. As long as they didn’t catch me, I could call for help once they weren’t looking. As long as I wasn’t tied up. Or murdered. Was it cannibalism if a human was eaten by werewolves? Why was I even thinking about that right now? I had to find a way to survive.

It was simple, I’d just call the police and tell them I was being held against my will by a werewolf smuggling ring. Sounds legit. Right.

Or maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe one of my scrapes was from running into a hallucinogenic mushroom or a poisonous tree or something. Or they had been burning something that was making me trip out. Seemed more likely than werewolves.

We were back in the middle of the grouping of buildings and Porter strode towards one and pushed open the door. It hadn’t even been locked, I could have gone inside snooping and no one would have been the wiser. Darn it. I should have done that instead of following the mysterious voices.

He flicked on the light, and I was momentarily blinded. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust, and I found myself in a trailer kitchen. I made the mistake of looking at him as he went down the hall, as naked as I had suspected he had been and looking as good as ever. Which I shouldn’t have even noticed under the circumstances.

I heard him open a door, and it hit me he had left me alone. I tiptoed to the door and turned the handle...which was unlocked. Apparently werewolves were the trusting sort.

“Don’t even try it,” he called from down the hall.

My anger resurged and I gritted my teeth.

Porter came walking back, and stood leaning at the entrance of the hall. “Even if you do run, the wolves will only hunt you down again. You’re too slow to escape and we can smell your trail.”

“Let me go.”

“Can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. Take me out to that truck, drive me out of here, and dump me on the side of the highway. I can walk the rest of the way.”

“You know too much.”

Oh shit, he really was going to kill me. I went for the door again, and he rushed over—so fast I couldn’t even decide to react—and slammed it shut before I could dart outside.

I ran into the living room area, small and crammed with only a couple couches and a coffee table strewn with dishes and empty containers and random stuff, and grabbed an old floor lamp standing in the corner and yanked it from the wall to hold out like a weapon. He might murder me, but I could stab him in the eye first with the light bulb.

“Amanda,” he said, his voice forcibly calm. His brow was furrowed in frustration, and his eyes looked disappointed, as if he had some right to be bothered that I wasn’t cooperating with his crimes against me. He walked forward, slowly, as if stalking me. As soon as he got in range, I swung the lamp at him.

He stopped it mid-swing with one hand, as if I had been tickling him with a feather. I needed him to go, now.

When he got close enough I tried to hit him again, as hard as I could.

“Amanda, just let me explain.”

I abandoned the lamp and grabbed a beer bottle off of the coffee table and threw it at his head. He ducked, unfortunately, and it smashed in the corner, so I tried a plate next. He dodged that one, too. Slippery bastard!

“Amanda!”

“No! I don’t want your explanation!” I shouted, grabbing something else and tossing it. Another miss, if he would just stay still I’d land one right between his eyes. “I want you to let me go!” I screamed, and he flinched. Oh, so he had sensitive hearing, did he? I could be louder. I raised my voice as loud as I could and shouted, “I said let me go!”

“Why did—”

“Let me go!” I tossed another bottle at him, and he grabbed it before it hit his face. A bit of liquid splashed out and hit him, so I counted it as a hit.

He growled and lunged forward and grabbed my wrists before I could grab another weapon to toss at him.