Hemmed In

*Hezzlie*

I am fucking running like my life depends on it. Not because I feel like it does but because I can.
It’s all starting to make perfect sense to me now. Rowan doesn’t want me because I’m special, or because he wants to help me, or because of some other reason a normal person might want to befriend someone who was in the middle of a mental breakdown.
No, he only wants me because he’s planning to use me to get this woman he loves away from his enemy–who happens to be my father.
I was always pretty good at history in high school, and one thing I realized early on is that there are always two sides to a story. History always records the side of the victor, but all the people who have fought and died for a losing cause felt vindicated in their actions. They saw the righteousness of their cause.
How do I know my father didn’t have a really good reason to attack Moonstryker mansion? I can’t imagine there ever being a good reason to kill someone, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t have a cause he was fighting for.
My front left paw hurts a little as I slow to make my way down into the valley on the outskirts of the kingdom. I can’t believe how easy this has been. It was as if Rowan didn’t think I could jump that fence. It hurt when I landed, but I’m fine now except for the tenderness in my pad. I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m going to do when I get there, but I know I have to get to Darksky Castle and present myself to my father on my own terms.
I’m not even convinced that he really is my father. After all, nothing Rowan has told me so far can be trusted. Even Dr. Bolton has proven he can tell me lies with a straight face.
I’m picking my way down, trying not to tumble when I suddenly see a line of wolves in front of me. It’s difficult to see in the darkness, but I think there are about six or eight of them. They’re big, too. Not as large as Rowan or Dean’s wolves, but way bigger than mine.
They don’t look happy to see me.
“Fuck,” I mumble in my mind.
We should go back. That’s my wolf. We need to stay with our mate anyway.
“Mate?” I question her. “What the fuck is a mate anyway?” Every time I hear that word, I think of Australia and how everyone calls their friends that. Rowan is not my friend.
You have a lot to learn, my wolf mutters.
She’s not wrong.
The wolves advance slowly. I might not be as big as they are, but I am fast. Would it be possible for me to skirt around them? There’s a woodsy area off to my right. Maybe I can get in-between the trees and hide for a bit before I cut back down around behind them.
I consider darting that way when I hear noise behind me and turn to see the large golden wolf I now recognize as Rowan standing between me and my escape plan. I swear in my mind again. It’s hard to read a person’s expression when they are in their wolf form, but I know he is utterly pissed.
He hooks his head in the direction from whence I came, and I know I have no choice. He’s faster than me, and a lot stronger. If he wanted to hunt me down and sink those teeth into me, well, it would hurt.
I glare at him as I turn and begin the march back up the hell. I’m not sure how I’m going to jump over that fence again when I’m so much lower now than when I was running from the other side, but when we get there, I see a gate. It opens for Rowan, and I reluctantly follow him through.
Dean, James, and Natalie are rushing toward us in their human forms, Dean wearing a pair of sweatpants that makes me think he must’ve shifted at some point.
“Thank the Goddess,” Natalie says. “We thought you’d fall down the mountain.”
I can’t say anything to her in my wolf form, so I just shake my head.
James tosses Rowan a pair of pants, and that’s when I realize he’s in his human form and stark naked again. Natalie covers her mouth but stares. I can only see his side profile and tell myself to avert my eyes, but a tingling sensation creeps into my lower belly.
God, that man is fine.
You’re telling me, my wolf says. And he’s our mate.
“Whatever that means,” I think back at her.
If these guys think I’m going to shift and prance around naked in front of them, they’ve got another thing coming. It was odd enough to strip down to my underwear. Natalie is carrying my clothes though. She asks, “Should we step behind a tree so Hezzlie can get dressed?”
“Fuck no,” Rowan replies, and there’s no doubt he’s angry now. “She’s not leaving my sight again until she’s locked back in her room.”
“You want her to get dressed in front of you?” Natalie asks, as if he hadn’t just done that very thing.
“She can walk inside in her wolf form. I don’t care, but if she ever pulls a stunt like that again, I’ll pick her up by her scruff and shake her hard enough to break her neck!”
It’s clear he is speaking to me–not Natalie–who is now trembling and looks a little pink. I should be frightened because he’s fully capable of doing exactly what he just said.
But I feel more defiant than scared at the moment, so I just glare at him.
Dean says softly, “Let’s go inside, Hez.” He pets me on the head like I’m a domesticated dog, and I follow him inside with everyone else behind us.
It seems odd walking into the house this way. I wipe my paws before I enter, but it does no good. Some poor maid is going to have to scrub the carpet. We take the servants’ stairs, which are wooden, so at least that’ll be easier to clean. I make it to my room, and Natalie comes inside with me. I shift and get dressed as quickly as I can because I know there’s still hell to pay.
As soon as she steps out into the hallway, Rowan walks in, still only wearing a pair of joggers that hang so low around his waist I can see the deep V and have trouble lifting my eyes.
“What the actual fuck were you thinking?” he demands.
I sit on the edge of my bed, noticing how my hair smells like the forest. It was glorious while it lasted, tasting that freedom–feeling the wind in my fur, gliding through the air. I shrug. “I don’t belong here. Why should I stay?”
He takes a few steps closer to me, his nostrils flaring, “Because, Hezzlie Stone, you belong to me. I say where you go, what you do, and when you do it.”
“I don’t belong to you.” I find the courage to stand up, but I don’t move closer to him. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He closes the distance between us so that I am looking directly into his eyes, his warm breath fanning my face. I should be scared, but I’m thinking about that time I accidentally kissed him instead. What did his lips taste like? What would happen if I did it again? “You are mine, Hezzlie. You’re my fucking mate. We both know it. Until I reject you, you belong to me. If you ever run from me again, you will regret it.”
His chest is heaving, and I think I see a slight twitch just below his waistband. He bites down on his bottom lip. He’s not just angry–he’s turned on, too.
I’m not sure what “mate” means, but I kind of want to find out.
“Do you understand?” he demands, not blinking, not backing away.
I nod. I’m afraid if I try to open my mouth, something will come out that’s not words.
He looks me up and down and then pivots and marches toward the door. When he gets there, he pauses to look me over again. I feel his eyes roam over every inch of my body, and that heat in my core blossoms.
Fuck, I want him so bad.
He opens the door, walks out, slams it–and locks it behind him.