Page 4 of Forced Knocked-Up Mate

A desperate need for solitude and freedom has kept me relentlessly moving north into higher and wilder country. A deep loneliness within has kept me tethered to the outskirts of civilization. It’s as if my soul is being torn in two.

Let’s just have it done, then… rip me apart, and let me bleed out and die.

A few weeks ago, though, I found a source of hope. A random guy in a bar told me that he knew my brother, Rider, and that he could take me to him.

The pain in my chest reaches a searing, sharp pitch, and I pick up my pace. The ground crunches a little under my big boots as I head upwards into the mountains, forcing my body to work hard.

If it looks too good to be true, then it is. End of story.

I still can’t explain how this random guy—Tobias—found me, or knew who I was. The only answer is that he knew my brother, or at least knew what he looked like. It’s the only thing that connects us. He said he’d take me to him.

I almost shook the guy down, demanding he take me immediately or I’d follow him. Tobias dodged me by saying Rider’s pack was on the move, and he didn’t know my brother’s exact location. He said he’d be back in a week and would reunite us.

But he never came back.

I’ve reached the peak of the small mountain behind the bar. The trees thin out around the rocky outcrop, and the star-spangled sky stretches out above, all around me. I’m wild and free, and for such a long time, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.

But now I know Rider’s alive. I have to find him!

My wolf growls within me, begging to be free. I push down the primal urges, letting myself relish the pain instead. Lately, my wolf seems to be trying to tell me something, but when I try to roam, I tend to push into the wilderness with no plan on how to return.

Turning my back on the sky, I walk into the woods until I find an overhang of rock to shelter under. I wrap my big trench coat around me and curl up in the soft leaves.

Sleep doesn’t come easy with my troubled thoughts, but I’m tired and wounded. My body succumbs, and my mind sinks into a mercifully dream-free unconsciousness.

Cheerful birdsong cuts through my rest, and I groan, turning over to grab my coat so I can wrap it around myself. It takes a few seconds of fumbling around before my mind wakes up enough to understand the situation.

Where’s my fucking coat?

I sit up, suddenly so confused by what I’m seeing that I think it has to be a dream.

Where the fuck am I?

A neat grass lawn stretches around me, surrounded by a wooden fence. There are little garden beds all around the edges of the yard, overflowing with flowers and herbs. I’m underneath a huge tree, its long branches and thick canopy stretching out above me.

How the fuck did I get here?

I look myself over and see that my injuries from the night before have healed, but I’m definitely sore and scratched up from a long run.

My wolf must have brought me here. Can this even happen? It took over without me knowing!

“Fuck,” I mutter, shaking my head. I’ve lived rough for a long time, and I have a pouch I keep my clothes in and carry if I’m shifting to run a long distance. Sometimes I’d stash it somewhere to come back for it.

Now I’m buck-ass naked in someone’s backyard, and I don’t even know where I am or how I got here.

I only had one set of clothes, and my big trench coat kept me warm and dry out on the mountains. Without money or anything to wear, I don’t even know where to start replacing my stuff.

I’m starting to quietly panic when the door to the back of the house screeches open. A woman walks out. She’s humming softly to herself, holding a small empty basket and clippers as she heads towards the garden. I’m frozen in place, completely blank on how to handle the situation.

I can’t take my eyes off her as she moves quickly up the path, the folds of her white nightgown swishing around her legs. Long, dark brown hair cascades in messy waves all the way down to her waist, and even from a distance, I can see her eyes are a unique shade of pale blue.

Anxiety starts to fizz in my guts as I think about what to do. If I stay quiet, she might not notice me and just go away. On the other hand, if I don’t alert her to my presence, it might scare the fuck out of her when she finally does notice me.

As if drawn by my thoughts, she turns and sweeps her gaze across the backyard, the beautiful blue eyes suddenly stalling and fixing right on me.

She screams, dropping her basket and shears. They roll away from her as she puts her hands to her cheeks and stares at me with wide eyes.

“Hey,” I mutter, wondering if I should get up or stay sitting. If I stand up, it might look threatening.

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