Page 13 of Cruel Mate

“Maybe we’ll just take a look and see for ourselves,” the second shifter suggested, practically tearing the bag from Layla’s back.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” she yelled back at him, the first taking over restraining her so that the other could rummage through her bag.

She fought with all she had, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. It was only a matter of time before the second shifter made it through all the packets of fruit, vegetable seeds and other items she had brought to trade and found the hidden compartment at the bottom of the bag, where she kept the important correspondence of her alpha for safe-keeping on her travels.

She couldn’t let that happen. Whether the message was a letter of good news, bad news or just a general report of the recent goings-on in town, she couldn’t allow either of these guys to see it. It was for the eyes of the Pine Valley alpha only. Never in her life had she failed to deliver a letter, and she wasn’t about to start now.

Elongating her claws, she reached down and grabbed hard at the man’s groin until she felt something pop. It was a horrid sensation, one that made her feel nauseous, but it had the intended effect.

The man squealed like a little pig, flying backwards, clutching at his balls. He was so red-faced and clearly in pain that Layla wondered whether she might have done a little permanent damage. She suspected it was no bad thing. The world was better off without the offspring of a man who would attack a woman.

She didn’t wait to see if he would recover. It wouldn’t be too long before he did. With werewolf healing, he would only be down for a few minutes at most. But he was definitely down for the count as he sank to his knees, still clutching his pearls.

The second guy, clearly unhappy with all the seeds and stuff he had found in her bag, turned on her snarling. “Where is the letter?”

So they know I’m a messenger, she thought, making a mental note of it. Any information she had to take back to her own alpha was good information, especially when it concerned the goings-on in the territory of an allied pack. Just because they were allies right now didn’t mean they wouldn’t one day be enemies.

For now, though, they were allies, and that meant whoever these guys were in their territory, attacking people, were bad news for the Pine Valley pack and the Nightstar pack alike.

“This is your last chance to give me back my bag or I’ll give you the same treatment I just gave to your friend,” Layla warned, flashing her claws.

The man lifted the bag high, so high that there was no way Layla could have reached it from the ground. He was so damn tall she had to crane her neck to keep her eyes on the bag at all.

But she was small, agile, and she had been forced to climb a fence or two in her day. She could climb a man built like a brick wall any day of the week. And so that’s exactly what she did. Taking a running jump, she aimed her feet right at the middle of his chest and sent him flying backwards as she pushed off with her toes to grab for the bag.

Feeling it in her palm, she clamped her fingers around it and dug in her claws, twisting midair to yank it from his grip.

The man cursed as he was thrown toward the ground by the sheer force of her leap, and he hit the cobblestones hard enough that she heard all the air escape his lungs.

Knowing it would be dumb to wait for the aftermath, she didn’t stop the second that she landed on her feet. She raced for the other end of the alleyway, relieved to know Pine Valley like the back of her hand. She’d miss out on trading with Mrs. Richards at the grocery store, but at least she was well on her way to the alpha’s house.

By the time she made it to the alpha’s house, she was more than a little wary of the mood in town. Things were quiet, even for a small town like Pine Valley, and those that usually stopped her to talk or trade appeared far less eager to do so than usual.

After what had just happened in the alley, she was more than willing to do a quick in and out, missing the safety of Nightstar more than ever. It was an odd sensation, especially after years of avoiding the place like the plague while Karl Ryker had been alpha.

Even after the night before with Zander and having the whole pack witness whatever the hell had happened between them at the bonfire, she was more than ready to get home.

“It’s good to see you again, Miss Keely,” Luke Pine, the Pine Valley alpha, greeted her warmly the moment she was shown into his study. She had always marveled at the extravagance of his home. It was all modern white walls and chrome furniture, suave and sophisticated, nothing at all like the dark wood and cabin-style furniture many of the people back in her own hometown chose. It was clear that the Pine Valley pack had a great deal of wealth, even if they were a much smaller pack than Nightstar.

“And you, Mr. Pine,” Layla said as she pulled off her bag and rummaged in the bottom for the letter in its hidden compartment.

“Please, how many times must I tell you, call me Luke,” he insisted, looking at her from behind his glasses, which Layla guessed were more of a fashion statement than a necessity since there weren’t many werewolves who needed them. He pulled them down off his nose as if to look at her more closely, his brow raised. “I do hope you didn’t come to any trouble on your way.”

Layla glanced down at herself then and growled when she saw the tear in her sleeve. A part of her wanted to go back to the alley and make those guys pay for ripping her favorite sky-blue t-shirt.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Layla assured him as she handed over the letter.

The alpha examined her further before giving a sniff. Something akin to recognition crossed his face, but he said nothing as he opened the envelope and turned to read.

Layla waited for him to finish and begin writing a response before she said, “I beg your pardon if I am being too forward, Mist—Luke, but is all well?”

The alpha’s hand froze midway through writing. For a second, he didn’t look up, and Layla held her breath, wondering if she had overstepped her bounds.

She waited anxiously for his response, hoping not to have put her foot in it too badly.

When he looked up and sniffed again it was clear that he wasn’t too impressed with her questioning. Werewolves were awfully secretive with the things going on within their territory, and besides, she was no alpha. She had no right to question the problems of another pack.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” he said finally, as if he wished to give her a taste of her own medicine.

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