Zara's POV
Only at this moment do I raise my eyes and examine him closely.
His eyes are sharp and deep, his lips thick and sensual, his features rugged, and his hair is slicked back and disheveled from a recent fight. He is a size larger than a typical wolf, and his very presence radiates a potent aura that sends tremors down my thighs.
I speak up hesitantly, "You're the Beta of the Snowfield pack?"
He pauses for a moment, "Why would you think I'm someone else's subordinate?"
I am amused by him. "Dude, are you trying to tell me you're Alpha Maxwell of the Snowfield pack? You're a terrible imposter, because I've heard the real Maxwell is cold, ruthless, and bloodthirsty. Yet here you are, thinking of saving a stranger like me."
"Only Maxwell would have the strength to save me, but you are definitely not Maxwell. Besides, if you really were Maxwell, I would do everything in my power to escape from you, because he's just that terrifying."
This time, the man pauses for much longer. He averts his eyes for a moment, making me worry that calling him out on his lie has affected his mood.
Then he stares at me again. "Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that leaving with me is far better than staying here, being captured helplessly, and sold as a pleasure slave, isn't it? I can tell you're a girl with a rebellious spirit. Just as you trust me, I also trust that you have good judgment over what I'm saying."
I freeze for a moment, then take a deep breath: "Yes, you're right."
No matter whether this man in front of me is good or bad, the situation can't be worse than being auctioned off to cover Sophia's wedding expenses. I hate Sophia, and I despise Derek for bringing the Shadow Pack to the brink of ruin. Besides, the two guards David sent are already dead—if I just sit here and do nothing, how will I explain about their deaths?
"That's right," he smiles approvingly, "you're very weak, so stay put and don't move. I will find you something to eat first."
He wraps his arms around me, guiding my arms around his neck, then settles me down beside the broken tree stump he'd been leaning against. He glances around, then goes over to the guard's body and rummages through it for a moment before pulling out an obsidian curved dagger. He rubs the obsidian dagger against his firm abs for a while, letting it pick up his scent, then comes back and crouches down, placing the knife in my palm.
"I will be right back." With that, he stands up, vanishes into the dark expanse of forest.
As soon as he leaves, the bone-chilling cold of the forest closes in around me. I curl up into a ball, clutching the obsidian dagger tight against my chest, breathing in his lingering scent greedily, trying to recapture that warm, safe feeling of being held in his arms just moments before—anything to ease this ache.
Soon after, he returns carrying two pieces of flint, two fish, and a section of bamboo filled with water. He sets the fish and water on the ground, then gathers some dry branches and pine needles nearby, arranging them into small piles and a tinder nest. He begins striking the flint with force. Sparks flicker to life and die in his hands.
I swallow hard. "Hey, I'm kinda cold, could you maybe..." I bit down on my lip.
He turns to look at me, smiles. "Of course."
He pulls me close, draping his tattered coat over my shoulders. One arm wraps around my neck, drawing me against the warmth of his chest, while his other hand strikes a flint. Sparks shower down, quickly catching the tinder, and a flame blossoms before me. He places the fish and bamboo on a simple wooden rack he has just fashioned, and the fire begins to crackle and pop as it licks at them.
Blair makes contented rumbling sounds within me. I lift my head, watching the flames dancing in his eyes.
It's been so long since anyone has made me feel this safe and secure—not since Mom passed away.
He hands me the hot water and the freshly grilled fish, and I nestle into his arms, savoring each bite. The chill inside me melts away completely, leaving my body feeling toasty warm.
After finishing the meal, I wipe my mouth and ask him softly, "By the way, I still don't know who you are or what your name is."
He lowers his eyes: "This isn't the time for such questions. It's late—we should get some sleep, recover our strength, and get out of here first thing tomorrow."
I think for a while. "Yes, you are right."
The night is comfortable and all too short. In the early hours of the morning, while I am still nestled against his chest, he suddenly rolls over, pinning me underneath him as his warm mouth finds my neck.
He latches onto my neck, his teeth and lips chasing away any thought of sleep and igniting my desire.
Oh my gosh...It's really hard to tell if he's still under the influence of an aphrodisiac, or if this is just his true nature.
"You want to mark me and make me your mate?" I let out a moan of pleasure, lick my lips, my eyes glinting playfully as I watched him get up in a slight fluster.
He doesn't seem to realize he would wake me up; maybe he was probably just groggy from sleep.
"No, I'm very selective about who I mark, and I don't see this going anywhere since we've only just met. Perhaps I was just affected by the damn aphrodisiac." He gets up, a smirk on his face as he looks me in the eye, and gives a flawless reply.
"I need to contact my... subordinates." A glint of gold flashes in his eyes.
But then his brow furrows deeply: "Strange, I can't reach them through spiritual link."
I am stunned for a moment, asking worriedly, "Is something wrong?"
He shakes his head, "Maybe they are just lured away, too far away from me so spiritual link can't work. I think I might have to leave you temporarily, find my warriors as quickly as possible, then come back for you and take you to Snowfield pack safely."
A sudden, unbearable wave of emptiness and loss washes over me. "OK, I'll wait until you are back." I force a smile.
He presses a kiss to my forehead and places the obsidian dagger in my palm again. "This blade carries my scent," he says. "No common Rogue will dare to trouble you now. Rest easy, and wait for my return."
With that, he rises to his feet, his form shifting into that of a wolf, and vanishes into the sea of trees.
Perhaps my longing for him is so strong that when I hear footsteps nearby and sense the approach of several powerful wolves, I almost immediately get up and trot over.
Then, the moment I see them, I stop dead in my tracks.
It's David, and his two guards.
I freeze, and so does he.
His eyes sweep over the two guards' corpses in disbelief, then lock onto the obsidian dagger clutched in my hand and the fresh kiss mark branded on my neck.
He grits his teeth and snarls, "Zara, what the hell have you done!"