-Jeremy Winters--
I came into class late, and on my first day too. Not a good start. Oh. My. God. The smell of pine and roses met my nostrils when I set foot into class. My inner wolf, James, screamed, "MATE!" Looking around the room, I sought the one who had my inner wolf riled. I was a seventeen and a half year old alpha, and had yet to find my mate. Searching the room, my eyes landed on a girl in a black hoodie, with copper hair and shadow covering her face. She sat in the corner at the back of the class. She didn't look to be paying attention to anything as she painted something.
Sadly, the only open seat was in the middle of the class, two rows up from her. Her scent filled my nostrils, but there was another scent about her. I knew it wasn't completely her scent, but a man's. It was of whiskey and cigarettes and the scent of a mated werewolf. Surely, she wasn't mated! If she was, why, and how, was she my mate?
Two classes later, and I had them both with her, it was lunchtime. She sat all alone, under a weeping willow. Nobody paid her any mind, but she was weeping with her knees pulled up to her chest. I looked at my beta, Thomas, and my third-in-command, Noah. "Go eat. I've gotta go to her." They gave me a look that said there would be tons of questions later. They were twins, but polar opposites, like yin and yang.
I made my way over to her. Sitting down, I attempted to wrap a comforting arm around her. Her head shot up, tears streaming from her wild, fear filled eyes. She all but jumped ten feet away from me. I saw why she kept her face hidden. Her beautiful face was marred with a fresh black eye and busted lip. Anger boiled just beneath the surface. "Who did this to you? I'm not gonna hurt you, Darlin." I had to keep my anger in check as I spoke softly to her.
She shook her head and attempted to run off. Before she got far, she collapsed, clutching her ankle. I ran over to her, and growled as Thomas and Noah came near. She was clenching her jaw tight as she attempted to get up. Quickly, I scooped her up, and she whimpered. Her breath was labored as she now clutched her chest. I didn't know what was wrong, and before I could ask, she passed out, I assumed from pain.
"Thomas, run to the pack house and prepare her a bed. Noah, go get the damn pack doctor." I was worried, immensely worried. My mate wasn't conscious, she was in extreme pain, and God knows what else besides her black eye and busted lip. When I got to the pack house, I quickly took her to the room where the doctor was and set her down. "Fix her! What's wrong with her?" I growled it out. She did several x-rays, a few tests, and had me leave the room to check her body for injuries.
"Alpha, she's in critical condition. Her body is riddled with bruises, welts, and sores. She has three broken ribs. Her right ankle is fractured. She is mated, by her condition, I would assume forcefully given the freshest mark on her neck. She's lucky she's not dead with how malnourished and dehydrated she is." I was going to kill whoever did this to her.
YOU ARE READING
The Alpha's Claimed Mate
Werewolf"You're mine." Her uncle tried to claim her. Her father beat her. Her mother died. Alpha comes along. "No, she's mine." She'd found her mate. She'd already been claimed by another.
