Page 2 of His Mate

“Don’t look back! Just keep moving!” I shouted. Branches whipped across my face as we tore through the woods, and my mind raced for what to do next.

Fight or flight.

I risked a glance back, and for a split second, I caught a glimpse of the massive creature—those glowing eyes, closer now, closing the distance faster than any creature had any right to. The bullets hadn’t done a damn thing to it, and that fact settled in my gut like a stone.

What the fuck was wrong with that thing? It should have gone down with three shots. I hadn’t missed. I’d seen every bullet hit its mark. Fuck, each shot was almost point blank. It should be dead.

We stumbled into a small clearing, panting and gasping for breath, and I spun around, raising my gun once more, the barrel steady despite the fear coiling in my stomach. Trevor was right beside me, drawing his own weapon with trembling hands.

We were used to fighting people, not being hunted by wild beasts.

“Any bright ideas?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “We make sure we don’t die here.”

The wolf burst into the clearing, its yellow eyes blazing like eerie glowing lanterns in the darkness. It moved so fast I barely had time to react before it was on top of Trevor, pinning him to the ground.

I heard him scream—a raw, desperate sound that sliced through the night—as the creature’s jaws clamped down on his throat. Blood sprayed, hot and dark, staining the forest floor, and Trevor’s screams turned into a wet, gurgling noise that I hated I knew so well.

“No!” I shouted, lifting my gun and firing again. Each shot echoed like thunder, the muzzle flash lighting up the night in quick bursts, and this time I could see the bullets tearing into the wolf’s body. It jerked and snarled, its blood mingling with Trevor’s, but it didn’t release him. I fired again, emptying the clip until the slide locked back, but it was too late. The light in Trevor’s eyes had already faded, leaving him staring blankly at the canopy above.

I knew that look. He was gone.

The wolf lifted its head from Trevor’s body, blood dripping from its jaws. It stared at me, lips curled back in a twisted, mocking snarl, as if daring me to make a move. My hands shook as I reloaded, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I could see Trevor’s chest still now, his blood pooling around him, and I knew there was nothing I could do.

I ran over to him and dropped to my knees beside him anyway, my hands trembling as I tried to press down on the wound, tried to staunch the blood that was already seeping into the dirt beneath him, but even I knew it was hopeless.

“Come on, Trevor,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Stay with me, damn it. Stay with me.” But there was nothing left to staunch—only blood, so much blood, and that empty, glassy stare that would never meet mine again.

Fuck.

I squeezed Trevor’s shoulder, letting my forehead rest against his for a moment, just a moment.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I’m so damn sorry, buddy.”

But there was no time to grieve.

I rose to my feet, my hands slick with Trevor’s blood, and faced the wolf. It was standing at the edge of the clearing now, watching me with those unnerving eyes. I could see its chest heaving, the wounds I’d inflicted finally taking their toll, blood matting its fur and dripping onto the ground. But it was still standing. And it wasn’t finished with me yet.

With practiced hurried hands, I loaded in another clip and steadied my aim, the weight of the gun a familiar comfort even with my heart hammering in my chest.

“You’re not going to win against me,” I growled, my voice low, steady, despite the tremble in my hands. “Not tonight.”

The wolf bared its teeth, and for a moment, we stood there, two soldiers locked in a silent standoff, and I could feel the rage boiling up inside me now, drowning out all of the things I was feeling, the grief, the fear, everything.

It was time to fuckingfight.

“Come on then,” I whispered, my finger tightening on the trigger. “Let’s end this.”

The wolf sprang forward, a blur of muscle and fury, and I fired. The bullet struck its shoulder, jerking it off course, but it barely slowed down. I backpedaled, squeezing the trigger again and again, every shot echoing through the trees, but the wolf twisted and dodged with a speed that seemed impossible for something its size. I hit it twice more—one in the flank, the other grazing its ribs—but it kept coming, eyes locked on me, burning with a feral, unyielding rage.

Suddenly, the gun gave a sickening click, the slide jamming halfway back. I swore, trying to clear it, but there was no time. The wolf lunged, and I threw the weapon aside, reaching for the knife strapped to my belt. I drew it just in time to meet the wolf’s charge, slashing upward as it collided with me.

We hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me, but I managed to drive the blade into the wolf’s side, feeling the familiar resistance as it sliced through flesh. The wolf snarled, its hot breath on my face, and snapped at me, teeth flashing in themoonlight. I rolled, trying to put some distance between us, but it was relentless, claws raking across my arm, sending a flare of pain shooting up to my shoulder.

I scrambled to my feet, blood dripping from my wounds, but the wolf was already on me again, faster than I could react. It barreled into me, knocking me up against a tree, my back slamming into the rough bark hard enough to blur my vision. I stabbed blindly, felt the knife sink into something solid, and twisted. The wolf yelped, momentarily stunned, and I shoved it back, gasping for air, my body screaming in protest.

But I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t think about the pain. Not yet. I had to survive.

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