24. Arrival

She wasn’t sure how long she was out. The last thing Emmalyn remembered was the sounds of Caleb’s pain-filled howl as she slipped off into the darkness. She could hardly breathe and what she could do hurt beyond measure. She could feel bone and muscle mending, but much slower than before. He had pushed her poor body to the limit and then a little more.

Warm, gentle, and strong arms held her. The same arms that had ripped her from the nightmare hold and kept her safe. She opened her eyes just a little to look at him, smiling, albeit painfully, at Caleb, her mate.

“Caleb…” she whispered, though it was little more than a croak.

“Don’t speak,” Caleb said a bit harshly.

Caleb’s tone left no room for debate and she didn’t speak anymore. She did whimper though. No matter how gently he tried to step, it felt as though it were a jarring action. She tried to curl up more, feeling helpless in his arms. But it was alright, Caleb and Farrel wouldn’t let anything else happen to her. She was safe with them.

She had been moaning and whimpering in her half-sleep the entire way from that Gods awful cave all the way to the village gates. He was relieved beyond belief that she was awake and clear-headed, but he did not want her taxing herself by speaking to him. As it was, she sounded and looked like death warmed over.

The gates ahead of them were massive rustic things. Iron bars as wide as Caleb’s forearm had clamped firmly together entire trees from ancient times. As well as the gates, the outer walls were structured with the same tall thick trunks dozens of feet wide. That had petrified over the many centuries. The gates were open to them after Farrel’s quick preceding. They gathered a crowd in the square where the elders had come out hearing Farrel’s warning howls. They watched curiously, horrified, as Caleb carried the healer into their sanctuary.

In the square, a massive dirt ring with a bonfire newly made but unlit in the center. Three tall, rugged-looking males with gray streaks in their hair stood in front of Farrel. The elders, though no longer fighters, easily dwarfed every other in the area. The Alpha Hunter had shed his Lycan form and stood bleeding, grunting rough pants through his grit teeth and trembling with his own rage. Even after he had torn apart Baelr, killing the monster had not been enough to calm his fury.

Caleb hurried through the path that opened up in the crowd and stopped beside his blood brother, holding Emmalyn protectively to his chest. The elders peered at her bundled form, the scar at her shoulder, then looked away quickly. Then nodded to a few males nearby that silently rushed out of the village to collect the wagons left behind.

When they got to the dirt ring, she could turn her head and look at the males that were standing there. Emmalyn couldn’t help but feel intimidated by their presence alone. She could feel Farrel’s rage as he stood there next to them. She wanted to console him, to offer him comfort, but the elders spoke and she knew better than to do anything as they were speaking to them. Their voices demanded attention, and that was exactly what they received. When the elders spoke, their voices held a tone of great power. Far more than Farrel’s Alpha status allowed him.

“The girl will be allowed two days to recover. In two days’ time, before dusk, we will organize the council. Baelr’s action against his own pack brings shame to us and we will not mourn his loss. Mourn the others that died needlessly in the journey from Abenwae.”

Once they finished speaking, Emmalyn reached out a shaky hand and touched Farrel’s bare shoulder. If she had her wits completely about her, she would have known better. Had she been thinking of what might happen, perhaps her mates would know as well and stop her. As it was, she only wanted to offer him comfort, though she did in her own way.

She inhaled sharply as the pain ripped through her body anew. All of Farrel’s injuries began filtering into her already ragged body. She coughed and crimson-stained her lips. Her hand fell limp from his shoulder as she passed out from the pain.

The cry of rage that ripped out of Farrel completely overshadowed the gasps of shock from the crowd. He jerked away from Emmalyn, fixing his gaze on her just as blood spilled from her mouth. His anger was far more than his control and his human form could bear. He howled again, shredding out of his form in a mad frenzy no one had ever been witness to before. He tore at his skin before the wolf even surfaced.

Blood flew, and Caleb turned to shield Emmalyn from the spray. Farrel literally tore his own flesh off in his attempts to be rid of his humanity and let his fury loose. When the fur finally surface and his bulk expanded shredding the last of his human form away, he burst through the crowd, leaping over the entire mass of them, and tore out of the still open gates leaving nothing but a trail of snow in his wake.

All the rest of the evening and all night long Caleb had stayed by her side watching over his mate to be sure that she recovered. Through the first hours, he nearly held his breath the entire time. After he saw her wounds were healing, he let himself relax the faintest bit and continued relaxing the more she healed until, very early in the morning, he fell asleep curled against her back.

When she finally awoke, dawn was just breaking on the horizon. Her eyes opened, looking around in wonder. Where she was simply beautiful. As far as the eye could see were plains covered in snow and the distant sun peaked over the horizon.

Gone was the pain of the day before. Emmalyn untied the bandages from around her chest and ran a hand over the smooth, unblemished skin. She took a deep breath, as if testing to see if the pain was truly gone. She was glad it was. She had healed both hers and Farrel’s injuries, though his were unintentional.

She knew it wouldn’t matter, though. To him, it was black or white. She had taken his pain into herself when she had more than she could bear already. She winced a bit, knowing she would get a tongue lashing later.

She felt the welcome weight of Caleb’s arm around her and moved to snuggle close to him. Her hand went up and scratched at her forearm. She looked down and saw nothing there. It didn’t matter though, she could still feel him touching her, wiping his seed on her. She whimpered, trying to scratch it off, perhaps out, of her skin.

He was still in that exhausted sleep when he felt a burning on his arm. He winced, flicking his fingers slightly as he lifted his head. His eyes glanced to his arm still draped over Emmalyn’s thankfully perfect form and saw nothing wrong. But damn, did it sting. The realization came to him slow but when it came he sat up fast, grabbing her wrist as he rolled her over pulling her arm right from her grip.

“What are you doing to yourself?!”

She looked up at Caleb, startled and surprised that he grabbed her as he did. Emmalyn hadn’t realized it, but she had already scratched long cuts in her arm and it was bleeding when he pulled her away from it. But her rested body had already sealed up the damage that had been done. She whimpered again, wanting to keep scratching.

“I can still feel him, Caleb…” she said, tears in her eyes. “I can still feel what he put on me, I want it off.”

She moved towards him, pressing her face against this chest and sobbing, her body shaking as she cried. Caleb had no anger to spare. He had raged the entire way to the village and Farrel had taken what fury he had and run off with it. The Alpha was still well away from the village, out of Caleb’s thought range. He merely sighed and held Emmalyn close to him as he stroked her hair, her face, her shoulder, and down her arm over the newly healed flesh of her arm.

“I’ve washed you three times since we rescued you, love. Do you want me to draw another bath? Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it,” he vowed, pressing a kiss against her ear after he spoke.

She shook her head. Water wouldn’t take it away, but maybe time would. Emmalyn wasn’t sure, but she could hope. She cried so much she started hiccupping. She stayed in his arms, in the comfortable bed for them. It was so much nicer than sleeping on the hard ground. With Caleb beside her, she knew everything would be alright.

“Can you smell him on me?” She asked softly, finally able to stop crying for a little.

She knew why he did it. Emmalyn saw how he rubbed his cum into her skin as though it were an expensive lotion. She knew they had powerful senses, much better than her own. Perhaps that was why she wanted to rip her own skin off. She felt as though being there, smelling like him, was a slap in the face to those that meant the world to her.

“Not anymore. It’s why I washed you twice more when we came home. You smell like yourself again,” he assured her, slowly rubbing his fingers up and down her back to soothe her and try to quiet her crying.

He could not imagine how hard it was for her to endure what she had. Just seeing the state she had been in when he found her would be enough to bring him nightmares for the rest of his eternal life.

“Where’s Farrel?” She asked softly, almost afraid of the answer. “He’s mad at me again, isn’t he?”

Emmalyn didn’t mean to do what she did, it just happened. But it wouldn’t matter, she knew it wouldn’t. But, in hindsight, even had she known and remembered, she would have done it anyway. It was what she did, part of who she was. She couldn’t stop being that person.