Page 10 of Meeting Her Mate

“How nice to be acquainted with you,” I said to Vincent. I extended no such courtesy toward Maurice. “And as for what happened to me and how I still am alive, I have to say that it baffles me. I have been through hell, brother, and I do not say that lightly.”

“Maurice, why don’t you go and assemble the pack? They will want to meet the founder of their pack,” Fred said as he helped himself to the only vacant chair in the room. He sat down on it and breathed heavily.

Maurice left with Vincent trailing behind him. I could not make out what they were discussing in hushed whispers, but the tone sounded hostile and angry. Now with only me, Fred, and Alexis in the room, I turned to face the girl who saved my life.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said. “I don’t know what happened after you told me to run. Dawn did come, and the vampires were running off, but it seems that one of them must have struck me in the back of the head.”

“No sweat,” Alexis said, still massaging her neck. “I’m just glad all that effort didn’t go to waste. I did carry you on my shoulders for about two miles. But like I said, no sweat.”

“Brother,” Fred spoke. “You look frail. You need to rest and recover, and we must have the healer tend to your injuries.”

“Aye, that would be wise. But I am starving and parched, brother. Perhaps some food and drink would sway me to loosen my tongue. Let’s just say that my captor wasn’t a very hospitable fellow.” It was strange how being out of immediate danger alerted you to your body’s less imminent needs. Now that I wasn’t trapped or hunted, now that I was safe within the confines of this quaint home, I realized just how badly I wanted to drink a cool glass of water and eat something warm.

“Captor?” Fred asked.

“Ah, yes. As I said, it is a long tale,” I said. “One that I have no pleasure in recounting, but I must tell it to make sense of all the madness. Maybe some answers have eluded me.”

“Umm…Will,” Alexis spoke finally. The tenor of her voice was not one of fear or respect. There was a subtle subtext of care, of love, in her voice. She spoke so softly, as if she was addressing my soul. “You need rest—a lot of it. You’re also wounded. If you’d just let me take care of you. You can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch and fix up something for you to eat. Why don’t you rest here and talk to your brother while I make something for you and come back with some bandages and ointments?”

“Thank you, Alexis, that would be very kind,” I said and smiled at her as she walked past me and headed out of the room. The moment she was gone, so was the smile on my face. I could only feign for so long. The woman was the spitting image of Ariana. Looking at her, talking to her, being in her presence, it all made the pain come back. Ariana was dead, and she, her granddaughter, was the living reminder of it.

“She looks like the spitting image of…” I began, but I could not finish this sentence.

“I know she does,” Fred said. “Poor girl, she’s been through the wringer. Her parents died when she was a kid, and, well, I’m not the only one whom time hasn’t been kind to. She’s been dealt a rough hand.”

“Fred. I bonded with her out there in the woods,” I said. “It happened before I knew that she wasn’t Ariana. I don’t question the tapestry of fate and what it’s woven for each of us, but it has me confounded. All my life, before my capture, I had assumed that I would eventually bond with Ariana.”

The sorrow and horror of my situation hit me like a bag full of bricks. In my old life, I played things close to the chest, never truly revealing how I felt to anyone save a trusted few. It was how I made sure that my pack survived the atrocities of the war. It was how I managed to sail with them to safety. But how could one cope with a tragedy of such magnitude? Tears? No. I was beyond tears. This was a level of grief that came to the brink of madness. I clenched my jaw and dug my nails into my palms, my knuckles turning white as the moroseness of the situation started unfolding in front of me.

“What good is my freedom if all I yearned for is gone?” I asked hoarsely.

Fred’s hand rested on my shoulder and squeezed. “Not all is gone, brother. The pack lives on. Ariana’s memory lives on in her granddaughter. You are still alive. As am I. Do not despair. Tell me, instead, what happened to you.”

Someone knocked on the ajar door. I looked at who was standing there. For a second, my mind played a cruel trick on me and made me think that it was Ariana. But it was only Alexis, standing there with a tray in her hand and what looked like a medical kit slung from her wrist.

“If it’s okay with you, should I give you this food and patch you up while you tell your story?” she asked in a small voice.

I smiled at her with pursed lips and nodded. “You saved me. I think I would like to share my story with you.”

I was all prepared to share my story with them, but the moment she put down the tray in front of me, I forgot about everything. There was so much variety of food and drink available on that tray that it made my mouth water and my stomach lurch. In all the excitement, I had completely forgotten how ravenous and famished I was.

There was a bowl of steaming soup with chunks of chicken and vegetables swimming atop the thick broth. Warm toasted bread cut into thin slices, smeared with cream cheese and butter, lay along the side of the tray. On the main plate, cut vegetables lay on the side of a big, sizzling, rare steak covered in thick gravy. Slices of bacon lay crisply to the side, soaked in grease.

In one of the glasses, black Coke fizzled. In yet another glass, there was warm milk. And there was a third glass that only had water.

I looked at the tray and then at Alexis.

“Don’t look at me. Word got around the commune, and people pitched in. I normally only have takeout in my fridge. This is from all the people of the commune. They’re eager to meet you, but I told them to wait their turn,” she said, beaming at me. “Oh, I’ve also got some whiskey if that’s more to your taste.”

I could not speak much in the face of this kindness. This was the first time someone was extending this sort of compassion toward me in a long time. My captor had kept me barely sustained on scraps and morsels.

Taking a bite of the steak, the bread, and the bacon brought back vivid memories of taste on my tongue. I had craved the texture of food for the diverse variety of sustenance that the outside world offered. I had forgotten that something as simple as steak and bacon could taste so heavenly.

I tore off the bread and consumed it ravenously, barely chewing on it before gulping it down to make room in my mouth for the next bite. In my days of youth, I had never sought vegetables. Oh, how I missed the flavor of vegetables when I was imprisoned. I took each bit of carrot, pepper, lettuce, onion, and tomato that I could, letting their juices and their crispness fill the void of my mouth.

Then I drank the water. The cool, clean, nice water rejuvenated my throat. As I gulped it down, the glass of cola enticed me and forced me to drink it in two quick gulps.

“Oh, Lord, have mercy on me,” I said out loud once I was done. “This was a meal fit for a king. I cannot thank you enough.”