Chapter 17

S carlet's heart raced as Wulfric's free hand explored her body slowly. It wasn't a frenzied race to the finish like before, nor was it a light-hearted flirting.

This was a hot, dreamlike kiss of promise. It spoke of a future together, a life spent on the same side, back-to-back fighting against the world as one unit.

With his mouth and hand, he told her how precious she was to him. And with this single, never-ending kiss, he hesitantly sought comfort and acceptance.

The same acceptance she craved.

Her heart ached to open to him, but a sliver of fear held her back.

This impossible kiss defied all reason and logic. The Growler and the Hunter, two that were never meant to be but had somehow been fated by the gods. It shouldn't work.

But who was she to deny the fates? Maybe they knew what they were doing. They had taken her parents, but maybe this was their way of making up for that. By giving her a mate, a lover, a soulmate.

She wrapped her arm around his neck and pressed her breast into his palm. She moaned into his mouth as his thumb flicked back and forth across her fabric covered nipple.

The promises of connection and love lingered even when he pulled away and broke the kiss. He carefully avoided her horns as he touched her forehead with his own and sighed. Her emotions swung back and forth from wanting him to wanting to run away from him.

She felt him smile against her cheek. With eyes closed, she savored the sounds of the forest, the breathing of her mate, the scent of their desire. She'd never been one to just sit and enjoy the touch of another. She wasn't a cuddler.

But in his arms, maybe she could learn to be because this felt pretty damn good. Like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

She bristled, as their previous conversation invaded her desire-fogged mind. "If you kissed me to shut me up, think again. You're not getting out of the conversation that easily, wolfie."

He tightened his arms around her in a sideways hug that made her feel small and dainty. She should've felt mad about it, but she didn't feel fragile. She felt protected and loved. Cherished even.

He chuckled, his breath tickling her neck. "I didn't kiss you to shut you up. I'd never do that, bunny, just like I'd never harm your brother. What hurts you will hurt me. It's part of being mates."

If an ancient dragon and a magical princess could be together, surely there was hope for the wolf who had invaded her dreams and the weird freak of a woman that she'd become.

She pulled back and scowled, cupping his cheek. "We're not mates. How many times do I have to tell you?"

He held his hand over hers on his face as he kissed her palm. "We are mates, whether you believe it or not. You're part of my pack now, and so is your brother, his wife, and even your grandmother. I'll keep you all safe, don't worry, bunny."

She stared up at him, afraid to hope, afraid to believe. The familiar flick of anger up her spine brought comfort, and it mingled with the grief and heartache that never left her alone.

They may be mates, but that wouldn't stop the heartache. She was the only one who could protect herself, the only one she could rely on.

She eased off his lap and sank into the dirt, grabbing a dagger and picking at the leftover meat. "My dad said something similar before he went to war and ended up dead. You can't control everything, Wulfric."

She glanced over at him, but he jerked and stared into the fire with a distant gaze. Her chest grew tight at the look on his face, so reminiscent of her own pain.

Her words triggered another memory. His wife had scolded him like this too.

"You can't control everything, Wulfric."

Frustration climbed his spine as he raked a hand over his face. He closed his eyes, praying the memory of his wife's face would come.

Surprisingly, it did. He'd given a free round of drinks to the soldiers who had just returned from war, and his wife had been mad because he was getting drunk with them.

"What is it, Wulfric?" Scarlet asked softly, her hand settling on his forearm and grounding him in reality.

He felt the tension melt at her touch. "I remembered," he finally choked out.

She frowned and poked at the fire. "Remembered what?"

"My wife used to scold me like you just did," he growled.

Scarlet's jaw dropped. "You're married?" she gasped, her hand falling away from him.

He turned to the fire and shrugged, leaning back on their pack and tucking his hands behind his head.

"I don't know if it was the tea Olive gave us, the head injuries and being so close to death once more, or something from the mate bond. But for the past few days, I've been remembering my past life for the first time in ten years of being a Growler."

"What do you remember?"

He told her of the few snippets he'd had so far. It wasn't much, but it was more than he'd ever had before.

"And you've never had memories pop up like this before?" She handed him the canteen, but he just shook his head as he took it and sipped.

"No, never. The more I remember, the more hopeful I feel about the future. It's like puzzle pieces are finally snapping into place. I don't know if I can describe it very well."

She handed him a cooked fish, an egg cooked in the stomach cavity. He sat up, and they ate in silence for a few more minutes. With his Growler metabolism, he could've easily eaten four times that much.

But it was a simple, delicious meal made all the better by being shared with his mate. By having a piece of his past back.

She finally leaned back against a log and nursed her canteen. "And that's all you remember?"

He nodded and sighed, tossing the bones into the fire as he settled back next to her. "I know I was married, and we had a daughter. I hope I worked in the tavern; otherwise, I was there a lot. I don't want to think I was the type of person who would leave a wife and babe at home while going off to the tavern, but…"

His voice trailed off as he worried.

"But you don't know," she said softly.

He frowned, staring into the fire and nodding. "Exactly. I just don't know who I was. What if I was the kind of guy who screamed at his wife? Or ignored her? Or worse, hit her?"

Her hand settled gently on his knee, and some of the tightness in his chest eased. He linked their fingers and breathed deeply of the crisp, pine-filled air.

"I don't think you'd do that," she said begrudgingly. "Don't take this the wrong way. I mean, you're still a Growler, and we're not mates. But the man I've gotten to know the past few days wouldn't do any of those things."

He shrugged, uncomfortable at her praise even as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. "Maybe," he murmured.

He could hear the half-hearted agreement in his own voice. "But there's no way to know for sure. Not until all my memories come back. Maybe then I'll be a better alpha, and they won't try to kick me out again."

She tugged on his hand. He looked up to see her frowning fiercely.

"Well, I don't need to know your past to know what kind of man or alpha you are. I don't need to meet any of the other Growlers to know that you'd be patient and fair. You observe and take action based on what you think is right."

He scoffed, "You don't know that."

Her eyes narrowed, "I know you listen and do what I tell you to. Earlier, we compromised on chores, hunting, and gutting. You aren't afraid to follow when someone else suggests something. You don't pretend that all ideas except yours are dumb. Do you know how rare that is in a leader?"

Wulfric frowned and shook his head slowly. "I remember some of my military commanders acted like that."

She nodded and crossed her arms. "Exactly. That's probably what led to your injury and being left on the side of the road for the Growlers to find."

He stared into the fire. Was he that type of leader? Was that why he hadn't seen the attack coming? Her soft hand on his arm made him look into her deep green eyes.

"You're a good leader, not like those commanders. Not like the former king of Busparia or even the leaders of the Hunters. Memories or not, you're a good leader, Wulfric. Don't even think for a second otherwise."

She tossed her head, and he grinned. Her fight was a balm to his soul. He leaned over and kissed her swiftly on the cheek.

Her outraged expression softened in surprise.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Scarlet's lips twitched in almost a smile, then she cleared her throat and took a drink, breaking their linked fingers.

"Well, I'm sure your wife loves you a lot. I bet they're still waiting for you to come home from the war."

A sharp stab of pain made him rub his chest with the heel of his hand. "No, I'm pretty sure they died. I remember the funeral pyres. A fever swept through the village, I think. So many funeral pyres."

When her fingers linked back with his and squeezed, some of the pain eased in his chest. He wasn't alone, at least not tonight. He had someone to share the recent memories with, someone whom he trusted.

Ironic, considering how quick she was to wave her daggers at him.

He cleared his throat and tried to take control of his emotions again.

"After that, I was drafted and went to war for Busparia. Left my—hm, maybe a shop? I might have been a shop keep, and my wife might have owned the tavern. I don't know exactly."

Her thumb traced his skin back and forth, easing some of the pain of the past. "And that's how you became a Growler?"

He nodded. "I don't know how long I fought before I was gravely wounded and shipped home on the Southern Road. Only, I didn't quite survive."

"The Growlers captured you? I've heard the rumors. I know that's how they grow their numbers."

He shook his head. "No, I wasn't captured exactly. They found me on a litter on the side of the road, waiting to die. The caravan had ditched a few of us. I had nothing more to live for. My family was dead. When they offered a chance at a new life, I took it. I never questioned them or regretted it until now."

They talked about their lives long into the night. He told of the memories that had come back and of life as a Growler. She told more stories of her Ranger father, then how she became a Hunter after his death in the war.

"Do you think my father became a Growler?" Her voice was soft as she lay on her side facing the fire. She yawned, and her head bumped his. Somehow they were both facing the fire, their heads close together so they could hear each other, their bodies curving around the fire.

His chest grew tighter. "I don't know, bunny. No one in our pack looks like you with that red hair, but there are other packs."

She snorted, "No one looks like me. I'm twice cursed, remember?"

He growled an acknowledgement but fell silent.

Part of him wished she would walk into the Growlers' camp and find her father. But as strongly as she felt about Growlers, he wasn't sure that she'd like her father to be one.

He didn't want to ask her if she hoped or dreaded it.

Their stories grew further apart, and the silences lengthened. He looked over to see her head in her palm, her eyes closed. He got up and added more logs to the fire.

The temperature would drop through the night, so he put on the itchy clothes and boots.

Then he grabbed her cloak and laid down behind her. He spooned her, draping the thick, warm fabric over them both. He hoped more memories would come in his dreams, but he slept like a rock.

As dawn approached, he nuzzled into Scarlet's back, her hair tickling his nose. She was so warm, and for the first time since being turned, he didn't want to get out of bed. The cold on the back of his neck finally drove him to rise in the pre-dawn darkness and stoke the fire. Then he left to wash his face in the river, refill the canteen, and relieve himself.

When he came back, Scarlet was sitting up, stabbing the fire like she wanted to kill it.

"Good morning, bunny," he said softly, handing her the container. He wanted to laugh that she was so clearly not a morning person, but the look on her face kept him silent.

She glared at him, swiped the canteen, and rubbed at her eyes with her free hand. After a few minutes, she stomped around and grumbled, refusing his help for even the simplest task. She stomped down to the river, and he let her go. There had to be a way for her to wake up happy. Would it help if he served her breakfast in bed? Did she need coffee before she was human? She obviously wasn't a morning person, but maybe some food would help her relax.

When she stomped back into the clearing, he pulled out the dried fruit from the pack and offered it to her. She sat next to him with a grunt and began to eat.

The easy banter they'd had yesterday had given him hope. He honestly hadn't expected to feel this kind of connection until she claimed him back. He felt like they were getting to know each other the way mates should. There was still so much he needed to know about her, her heart, her fears, her dreams.

Time was running out, though, and this morning, it was like she'd put the wall back between them. She was pushing him away again, and it frustrated and worried him more than he cared to admit.

He clung to the hope that she'd finish the mate bond, that she'd accept and love him before it was too late. The gods didn't make mistakes. She just needed time. Maybe by the full moon, she'd realize they were meant to be together. He just had to hold out a few more days and get to know her.

He gave her space as they broke camp and hiked through the forest. He didn't push her, instead occasionally carrying the conversation about life with the Growlers. It was easier to talk of the past ten years than the fuzzy memories of his human life.

As they marched south, the trees became larger and wider. This was the oldest part of the forest and the most sacred. The sounds of nature became more muted, the animals here used to the roaming Growlers.

By the time the sun started to go down again, hunger and anxiety were gnawing at his gut. The closer they'd gotten, the higher his anxiety had grown. How could he protect her and still gain back his alpha status? Their conversation grew more sparse as they walked.

The trees cast dark shadows as the almost full moon rose.

"We'll be within pack perimeters soon," he said quietly.

"We should make a plan for tonight," she said, the first time she'd spoken in over an hour. She'd gotten more tense the further they'd gone too, which was how he'd known it was more than just waking up on the wrong side of the fire.

Perhaps they both sensed that what lay ahead could kill them both and put a stop to all their newly budding hopes and dreams.

He stopped and opened the bag. He handed her the last of the dried fruit. She ripped it in half and handed him a piece. They ate in silence as he listened to the sounds around them.

No one was nearby, which was good. She handed him the canteen, and asked, "How do you plan to take your place as alpha?"

He drank before he answered. "Fight Brody, at a minimum. In a normal alpha challenge, the Elders create a magical circle that prevents others from interfering. Everyone watches the fight to the death. Whoever lives wins."

She frowned and pulled a dagger from her hidden sheath. She twirled it as she thought. He could almost see the gears turning in her mind.

She finally spoke up, her voice strained with worry. "I don't like that you could die."

He brushed a piece of hair from her eye, tucking it behind her ear. "Brody's a pup. He knew he wouldn't win an official alpha challenge, which is why he ambushed me with so many of his friends."

"But still," she paused, her eyes dropping to the dirt where she drew with the tip of her dagger. "If it'll give you an advantage, I guess—I mean, we can finish the mate bond."

His heart beat faster, and he froze in surprise. The lump in his throat wouldn't swallow away, so he took another drink. He didn't want her to mate him for just this purpose though.

He took her empty hand and kissed her knuckles, drawing her beautiful green gaze to his. "Thank you, Scarlet, but I want you to mate with me when you're ready, of your own free will. I'll be fine if I have to fight him before we complete the mate bond. It's already half-done already."

She frowned, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "What do you mean, it's half-done?"

It was his turn to look away. He took another drink and dropped her hand to his thigh before he answered. "I bit you when I climaxed, both times actually. The wolf took over, and I couldn't stop it, so my half of the mate bond is done."

She tugged her hand from his, and it left an emptiness in his chest. She frowned and avoided his gaze, going back to drawing in the dirt as her face settled into a stoic mask that hid all emotions and vulnerabilities. He could practically feel the emotional walls going back up between them.

He sighed, "Can I have your dagger? I'll draw a map of the camp and tell you what I'm planning."

She nodded and handed it over with barely a pause, which made him breathe easier. The only way they'd get through what lay ahead is if they trusted each other. He'd known he shouldn't have bit her, but it'd been nearly impossible to resist.

He crouched in the frozen dirt and drew with the tip of the dagger, his voice soft and low as he talked through a plan.