His Lover, My Mate

Nine: To Survive

*Rush*

​His body still ached from the aftermath of the rejection. Rejection tore at the soul, but it also tore at the body. She had been completely remorseless when she'd said it, and since she was his true mate, her rejection would never sever their bond. That was not possible for mates, period. And he was an Alpha, so he would be close to unaffected by it, but it would incapacitate him for a while.

His muscles strained, throbbing in distress. He had a head-splitting migraine, and he was pissed off. Heat was exuding from his body as he clenched and unclenched his hands, wanting to hurt something. He wanted to drink blood, too. Maybe that would calm him down.

He couldn't fight today. His body was too raw for that kind of stress. But he didn't stop that from training his men when the dusk fell on his territory. He could smell something sinister in the air for several weeks. Another war was on the rise, and he didn't know what it was this time. But it was a gut feeling. He'd been in several wars to know that his instincts meant something.

He couldn't afford to waste a day now that he knew his pack was in danger again. He should have expected it. After all, he reigned in the Darklands. Here, there was always war on the rise. It was never peaceful like the Moonlands or the Northlands. The Darklands were dark, just like its name. It was chaotic and sinister because death happened in the witness of the night, in the shadows. That was why all that ruled here were the Death Pack, The Shadow Pack, and the Night Pack. None other packs could prosper, because they were annihilated on sight either by rogues or by vampires.

His warriors were restless tonight. Rush didn't realize why until later on when the scent of fresh female blood hit his nose. His men started going delirious with the overwhelming sweetness in the air, and it was of a female who was especially unmated.

Aletha, he realized with dread. It was her blood. It had to be. The smell had a lingering hint of honey in it that he'd tasted in his mouth. "Don't leave or make a single move to come to the castle," he growled at his men before he dematerialized and appeared inside her room.

He'd expected many things, like maybe a cut or a fight that led to her getting hurt. But he'd never expected a gashed wrist and a naked female on the floor, lying unconscious in a pool of blood. Her skin was deadly pale and her hair burned like fire as it swirled over face and neck, almost like flowing blood.

"Motherfucker," he cursed, kneeling down and scooping her up in his arms. She was very light, almost like a child. He placed her on the bed and scraped off all the small shards of glass digging into her skin. It looked painful as shit. "Kyla," he yelled out.

What? his Beta's voice came in his head. I'm out in the fields.

Get the fucking doctor and bring him to Aletha's room. We have a situation here. He saw a long piece of glass clutched into Aletha's other hand and he yanked it out and threw it at the other end of the room. It shattered to incorrigible pieces.

Don't tell me you drained her.

No, he snapped. But she drained herself.

Oh shit, she cursed. Okay, I'm on it.

The pack doctor was a vampire without the abilities of a normal vampire. He couldn't shapeshift or materialize in a flash of a second. Instead, he was gifted with the ability to heal with his blood. That was why when he was needed, someone else with teleporting abilities needed to go and bring him to the place of emergency.

Rush took her wrist in his mouth and sucked off her blood and ran his tongue over her cuts, healing them as his lips touched new places on her skin. Damn, she was cold. She was almost colder than a corpse.