Chapter 4 The meeting

Chapter 4

4.

***

(Jayden's POV)

The concept of a mate has always been a source of unease for me. In our pack, it's not just a personal matter; it's a decision that carries weight for everyone under my leadership. The idea that I have no control over who my mate is feels like a gateway to potential disasters.

Yet, within seconds of meeting her, an overwhelming instinct to protect and keep her close surged through me. It didn't matter who she was-a rogue, a spy, an assassin. The need to shield her was undeniable. But what if she's not inherently bad? What if she's simply a person with flaws, unfit to be the Luna of our pack?

The thought of letting her go, even if it meant safeguarding my pack, seemed like the hardest decision I'd ever face. I haven't even met her, and already, the idea of losing her feels unbearable. It's foolish, perhaps, but the bond is that intense.

Then there's Belladonna, eager to be betrothed to my brother, Aiden. She hasn't met him, doesn't love him, and he's not her mate. Yet, for the power it would grant her, she's discarded her true mate. She'll likely be compensated for it too, selling information like a common traitor.

But now, holding the soft, warm body of my mate, ready to kill for her, I realize just how intense this bond truly is. And the one who dared harm her will pay dearly.

Her scent is intoxicating, reminiscent of my childhood-waking up to the aroma of cooking, fresh spring air cooling my skin, and the sound of my parents' laughter. She embodies the life I once knew before it was all taken from me.

I press a gentle kiss to her forehead and help her find her footing. As she steadies herself, I take off, driven by a newfound purpose.

Our eyes lock, a silent battle of wills. As I reclaim what's mine from his filthy grasp, he anticipates my move, sidestepping swiftly. Yet, not swift enough; my claws graze his left arm, drawing first blood.

He crouches, assessing me, a predator sizing up its prey. I silently implore the goddess for him to make the fatal error of charging directly.

The forest around us seems to hold its breath, the tension palpable. Every muscle in my body coils, ready to unleash. This confrontation isn't just about retribution; it's about protecting what's mine and upholding the honor of my pack.

He shifts his weight, a subtle tell. I brace myself, prepared to end this swiftly and decisively.

The coward runs into the woods, glancing back at my mate. That will cost him his eyes.

I chase him, my vision narrowing, instincts demanding blood. In seconds, I tackle him, sending us rolling through dirt and leaves under the moonlight. Before he can recover, I bite into his wounded arm.

His scream cuts through the night, a painful sound that brings me satisfaction. Good.

His neck is exposed-easy to attack-but I hold back. The image of him forcing himself on my mate still burns in my mind. My grip tightens. What if I hadn't been there? What if I had been too late?

No. I push that thought away. Killing him quickly would be too kind. He needs to suffer, to feel fear and helplessness.

Desperate, he swings a fist that glances off my head. It stings but only annoys me.

"Ouch," I mock.

He pulls his bleeding arm free and tries to crawl away. I let him think he has a chance.

Then, just as he tries to get up, I press down on his right leg.

A sickening crack fills the air.

His scream is music to my ears.

Blood flows from his injured arm, the torn skin and bite marks bleeding heavily. His breathing is rough and uneven.

I smirk.

This is just the start.

The bastard tries to scoot away, fear written all over his face. I hope he feels even a fraction of what my mate felt. Nothing will save him from me.

"Look, man, you-"

I don't let him finish. I stride toward him, grab his shoulders, and spit the blood in my mouth-his blood-right onto his face. He roars in anger. I slam my forehead against his, cutting off his pathetic noise.

Dragging him over to a tree, I smash his back against the rough bark, over and over, until leaves shake loose and fall around us. His shirt tears, his skin underneath scraping raw.

Not too deep. Not yet. I'm not done with him.

He lets out a weak growl, but I barely hear it. I'm making my way past his knees when the sound of heavy breathing catches my attention. Someone's approaching.

The smell of blood is thick in the air-I breathe in deeply, savoring it-but it's masking whoever's coming.

I hope they have the sense to turn around and mind their own damn business.

A figure bursts into the clearing-Alpha Kent.

His eyes are wide, filled with panic. He's a tall man, carrying the weight of his rank and the wisdom of his years. A lot of years. He's lived long enough for his hair to start graying. Maybe in another lifetime, I wouldn't despise him.

"Beast," he sneers. "Get away from my son!"

I laugh-mocking, wild. It doesn't matter to me. Neither he nor his pup can take me.

"Jayden." His tone is firm as he steps forward, raising a hand in warning. "Touch him again, and our deal is off."

He doesn't wait for my response. He grabs his bleeding son and drags him away.

I turn to her, concern evident in my voice. "Are you okay?"

I turn to her, concern evident in my voice. "Are you okay?"

It's been years since I've spoken so gently, and it feels foreign coming out of my mouth. My voice is rough, always filled with dominance and command. But with her? It softens on instinct.

I don't wait for her response before tugging at my inner shirt and wiping the blood from my hands and face. The warmth of embarrassment creeps up my ears. Since when do I care about appearances? Since when do I care about how I look in front of a woman?

My mate stands up quickly as I step out of the woods, brushing dirt off her dress with shaky hands. She clears her throat before responding. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

Her voice is mesmerizing. It's a captivating mix of soft and strong-gentle yet firm. Something about the way she speaks pulls me in, makes me want to listen to her forever.

I drink her in, allowing my eyes to roam over her. She's petite but carries herself with quiet confidence, like she refuses to be small. Her brown skin glows under the moonlight, and her long black hair is neatly braided, a contrast to the wild mess I expect from someone who just went through what she did.

She should look afraid. She should look broken. Instead, she stands tall, despite the trembling in her fingers.

The overwhelming urge to hold her rushes through me again. If she's in my arms, nothing can harm her. I want to be her shield, her protector.

"Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" I ask, stepping closer without thinking. My voice is softer now, careful, as if speaking too loud might shatter this fragile moment between us.

Her large brown eyes lift to mine, catching the light, making them shimmer like molten honey. There's something guarded in them, something wary, and I don't like it.

She glances away. "I..." She clears her throat again, and the blush that dusts her cheeks nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.

Warmth spreads through my chest, and I grin like an idiot-like a teenage wolf who just won a date with his crush.

I step even closer, craving her scent. I need to breathe her in again. "Yes?" I prompt, tilting my head, waiting for her to finish her thought.

"I don't know," she mutters, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

I chuckle, enjoying how flustered she is. She's adorable. And mine. My little mate. My shy little mate.

Aiden won't believe this.

And she's from the same pack as Aiden's wife. What a coincidence. I shake my head slightly, amused. Does this make us brother husbands?

I bite back a laugh at the ridiculous thought and focus on her again. "What's your name?"

She hesitates for just a second before answering. "Belladonna."

"Belladonna..." I repeat slowly, savoring the name. It's beautiful. Unique. It fits her perfectly.

Something about it tugs at the edges of my mind. A faint memory. A realization hovering just out of reach.

"And your surname?"

She hesitates longer this time, as if reluctant to share it. Her fingers tighten around the fabric of her dress. "James," she finally says.

I freeze.

My mind goes blank for a second before reality slams into me like a punch to the gut.

Belladonna James.

Aiden's new wife is named Belladonna. A Belladonna James.

My mate is to be betrothed to my brother.

A cold, cruel laugh threatens to bubble up from my chest. The Moon Goddess must have a twisted sense of humor.

The very moment I find my mate-the one person the universe chose for me-she's already promised to another. And not just any other. My own brother.

I should be furious. I should be outraged. But all I feel is this dull, aching pain spreading through my ribs.

There's nothing I can do about it. Nothing.

Especially not after I just beat the hell out of the son of the man who holds leverage over me.

But maybe... maybe it's for the best.

She's here, willing to be a plant in a faraway pack for what? For power? For personal gain? She didn't even think about her mate. She didn't care about me.

I swallow hard, my jaw clenching.

I have to reject her.