Page 13 of His Mate

Something had changed. I could feel it.

I kept running. I could see the fence up ahead—the twisted metal and barbed wire that marked the edge of their territory—and I felt a flicker of hope, the thought that maybe, just maybe, I could make it out of this. That I could disappear into the wilds again, where their laws and armies couldn’t reach, where I could be free.

But then, I felt it—an electric hum in the air, the faint scent of ozone, and I knew I was too late.

There was a crack, like a whip snapping through the air, and I felt a sharp sting in my side, followed by a flood of warmth that spread through my veins, heavy and thick, dragging me down.

My steps faltered, my vision blurring as I tried to keep moving, tried to force my body to keep going, but my legs refused to listen. I stumbled, crashing to my knees, and I could see the dart embedded in my side, the liquid seeping into my bloodstream, clouding my thoughts and numbing my limbs.

“No,” I growled, clawing at the ground, trying to drag myself forward. “Not like this…”

I heard them then, the sound of their footsteps slowing, the low murmurs of satisfaction as they approached, and I knew they’d caught me. I knew I’d lost.

“Still running after all these years,” one of them said, his voice dripping with mockery. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, a shadow against the flickering light of the streetlamps, his eyes glowing that familiar amber that marked him as one of the stronger ones. “You could have made this easy, Rowan.”

“Go to hell,” I spat, struggling to keep my eyes open, to stay conscious, but the drug was dragging me under, pulling me into the darkness, and I could feel my strength slipping away, bit by bit.

The man laughed, a low, rumbling sound that echoed through the empty alleyway.

“Still defiant, even now,” he said, crouching down beside me. I could feel his breath against my ear, hot and heavy, and it took everything I had not to lash out, not to fight back.

I bared my teeth, forcing myself to meet his gaze, even as the darkness crept closer, even as my limbs grew heavy and unresponsive.

“You’ll never break me,” I snarled, the words slurring together, barely more than a whisper.

“Oh, I don’t need to break you,” he said, and I could see the glint of his fangs, the way his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I just need to make sure you remember who’s in charge. And that you do as you’re told.”

And then, as the tranquilizer finally took hold, as my vision faded and the world went black, I felt the anger, the helplessness, the frustration of knowing that, despite everything, despite all the years I’d spent fighting, I was still just another piece in their game.

As the darkness swallowed me, I swore to myself that I’d find a way out. That I’d make them regret ever thinking they could cage a man like me.

CHAPTER 5

Kendra

The hours crawled by after I ate, every second stretching into eternity as I sat there, curled up on the bench against the padded wall, trying to ignore the way my stomach twisted with fear and uncertainty. There was nothing to do but wait, and with each passing moment, the silence grew thicker, more oppressive, pressing in on me from all sides. I tried to count the dimples in the padding, tried to track the faint sounds of air hissing through unseen vents, but it all blurred together.

Then, without warning, the lights dimmed, flickering for a moment before settling into a softer glow. I tensed, every muscle going rigid, my heart hammering in my chest.

Something was about to happen.

I scrambled to my feet, stumbling backward until I pressed against the far wall, my pulse thrumming in my ears, and I clenched my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms. The door rattled, and I heard the unmistakable click of a lock turning.

Fuck.

This was it.

The door swung open, and I held my breath, my eyes wide, every nerve in my body screaming at me to run, to fight, to do something, anything really. But I couldn’t move. I was frozen, trapped in that moment of terror as a man stepped inside, and the door slid shut behind him with a final, echoing thud.

He was… beautiful. Rugged, in a way that made him seem more like a creature carved from stone than a man. He stood tall, his shoulders broad, muscles rippling beneath bronzed skin that seemed to catch the light, every scar and line accentuated.

His hair was dark, shot through with hints of gray, tousled in that way that made it seem like he’d just rolled out of bed, and his eyes—God, his eyes were piercing, an intense shade of blue that seemed to burn right through me.

There was a roughness to him, a scruff along his jaw that only added to the sense of raw, animal power that radiated from him, and I could see the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, his muscles flexing as he shifted his weight.

And he was naked.

Completely, utterlynaked.