Forbidden Mate (14 page)

She screamed and attempted to fight back as the dark
wolf worked at tearing her apart, biting and ripping at her flesh.
 
It was chaos, a nightmare turned reality. The
sofa toppled over backwards as male wolves leapt up, clamping their deadly jaws
onto the she-wolf’s neck. The gruesome sounds of an animal attack were only
feet away, the crazy she-wolf whimpering and yelping as the men inflicted their
own damage.

Helen attempted to roll to her side, but everything
hurt. The metallic taste of blood pooled in her mouth. She was weak, sore, and
growing more confused by the second. Why couldn’t she focus her vision? Helen
wanted to catch a glimpse of the majestic
black panther
,
but it was too difficult to concentrate.
So tired.
She couldn’t fight the heaviness of her eyelids.
She had to sleep.

****

Wesley bit down on the wolf’s scruff and dragged the
carcass out of the cabin. He dropped the she-wolf onto the cool ground outside
the cabin and then shifted into his skin. What a waste of life. Once a she-wolf
locked her sights on an available male, it was nearly impossible to steer her
in another direction. Everything had happened so fast. One minute they were off
looking for a serious threat, and then they find a female trespasser. A shifter
should know better than to encroach on claimed land, especially when owned by
two alpha males.

Wesley had planned to give her a speech about
keeping to the town and staying out of trouble, but she’d gone apeshit crazy
when she saw Helen in person. She wanted one of the elusive wolves for herself
and couldn’t accept the fact they’d mated—to a human, no less.

He wasn’t sure if she was the wolf threatening the
palace, or if there was still another out there on the loose. But he had a
feeling the two cases were unrelated. An obsession with a male had nothing to do
with wanting revenge on the monarchy.

Wesley bounded back up the stairs and pushed open
the cabin door. Marco and Targus were on their knees on either side of Helen.
Her lifeless body was broken, bleeding out, and unconscious.

“How the fuck did this happen?” asked Marco, tears
glistening in his eyes. “I can’t lose her, too!”

Targus’s head was resting on her chest as if saying
a silent prayer.

Wesley should feel nothing. It was part of his
training—no emotion seemed the answer for everything in the life of a Royal
Elite. But he felt ready to crack down the middle. As much as he’d attempted to
deny the fact, Helen was his mate, and the mating call proved that. He wanted forever,
not an hour, not a day. Ever since meeting her, she’d become the center of his
world, giving his life new meaning.

Now she was close to death because none of them
foresaw the attack. The most he expected from the crazed she-wolf was an
embarrassing fit of jealousy. He expected her wrath to be directed at him and
the wolf-shifters for rejecting her, not Helen.

“She’s dying! Wesley, fucking
do
something,” said Targus, pressing a palm to the oozing blood on her side. The
air snapped with nervous tension.

“What? I’m not a fucking doctor!” Wesley dropped
down to his knees and cradled Helen’s hand in his. She was still warm, but for
how long? The frail little human was the center of his universe. He hadn’t even
had a chance to show her how much she meant to him. All he’d done was push her
away for his damn status at the palace. Being a Royal Elite couldn’t save
Helen.

Marco was beside him, their shoulders butting
against each other as they tended Helen. “You have to save her, Wesley,” he
whispered. “Only the blood of a princess can help her now. She’s beyond the
care of a doctor, and you know it.”

He really looked at Helen. Even in sleep, her body
battered, she looked like an angel. Just imagining her beautiful brown eyes
never looking at him again, made his heart ache. His panther clawed inside him,
desperate to save its mate no matter the consequences.

“How the fuck
am
I supposed
to accomplish that? You think they’re just going to let me waltz in with a
human? The royal palace is the most protected structure in the shifter world,
and I should know.”

“So you’ll watch her die?” asked Targus.

Wesley scrubbed his face with his hands. “Let’s get
her to the palace.”

Without a vehicle, it took too long getting Helen
through the forest to the rear border of the palace grounds. He knew Ronan
would be on duty tonight until he relieved him, but the perimeter wouldn’t be
as heavily guarded until the queen returned home. How was he supposed to get
into the grounds and then break into the palace unnoticed, never mind get ahold
of one of the three royal princesses? They all had mates who rarely left them
unattended.

Why would they even agree to help a human? They refused
to dabble in human politics, and since human and shifter worlds were supposed
to remain hidden from each other, it was futile to ask for their assistance. Still,
he had to try, not for the wolves, but for himself. Helen gave him a glimpse of
the possibilities. His life could be so much more.

Darkness aided their entry onto castle grounds. The
perfectly manicured lawns around the palace were greener than a golf course. It
was quiet and dark, only a few distant lights sweeping the land for intruders.
He knew all the security points and tried his best to outsmart the system.

“Who’s most likely to help us?” asked Marco. “Should
we ask the princess with the human mate?”

“They aren’t exactly going to line up for this. I’ll
be lucky to get any of them to agree to help us. That’s
if
I can even get close enough. They’re all mated and next to
impossible to get near.”

Helen’s shirt was soaked through with blood, her
skin turning ashen. He began to panic.

“She doesn’t have much fucking time. We need to do
this now!” said Marco.

They rested her body on the
grass,
all three of them crouched low as they studied the land around them. “One of
you has to stay here with Helen, and one of you has to come with me.”

“I’ll stay,” said Marco. “
Targus,
don’t waste time.”

Targus shifted alongside him. They both ran in
stealth mode, following the shadows and barely making a sound. Wesley led them
to the network of underground tunnels. Only a few months ago a fox had found
his way into these same tunnels in an attempt to kidnap a princess. Their
security was the best in the world, and it still had serious flaws.

When he reached the fourth hidden doorway, Wesley
shifted back into his skin. His spare pack of smokes still rested on the ledge
where he’d left them. He reached under a loose exterior stone on the wall and
flipped the switch to open the secret door. It clicked as expected, allowing
him to push open the heavy stone barrier.

“What’s going on?”

He whirled
around,
Ronan
was standing in the path with his arms crossed over his chest. Fuck, he should
have come alone. His Royal Elite brother stared down Targus with a look of pure
malice. He had no time to explain, not with Helen’s life hanging in the
balance.

“I’m sorry, old friend. I owe you one.” He nodded to
Targus and then slipped inside the palace. The sound of hand to hand combat was
muted once he sealed himself behind the heavy door. Targus could take care
of
 
himself
. He’d been
trained nearly as well
as an
Elite for the right to
court a princess. At least he’d be able to hold Ronan off long enough so he
could find a princess.

He ran through the hallways of the castle.
Everything was a maze to him, everything minimally illuminated with old world
wall sconces. Although he’d studied the specs of the castle during his
training, he’d never had the honor of gracing the interior first hand. It was
indeed regal, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as he walked along
the sprawling red runner in the hallway.

There were voices ahead in a room to the left. A
slice of warm light highlighted the floor in front of the open door. He stopped
before the threshold. How would he explain this to the queen? Even though he
was ready to walk away from his position, he didn’t want to disappoint her. His
sense of loyalty ran deep and always would.

He heard male voices.
Alexander and
Ulric, two of Delia’s mates.
The wolf shifters were right—he needed to
find Freya. She had a human mate and would be the most sympathetic to their
plight.

“Playing hide and seek?”

His heart raced and his nerves spiked. He should
have known the three males wouldn’t be far from their woman. Delia’s voice was
right beside him, her body a second shadow along the wall. She was known as the
most ruthless of the princesses, and she was the last one he hoped to find.

Wesley slowly turned around. She had a confident
grin on her face. With a bear shifting mate a few feet away, she had nothing to
worry about. He was pretty sure she could handle herself, too.

“Just checking on the palace?” It wasn’t supposed to
be a question, but she must know he was only supposed to patrol the exterior.

“Very thorough of you, Elite.”
 
She pushed off from the wall, walking towards
the open door. He instinctively grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. She
gasped.

“I need to find Freya. It’s important. Where is
she?”

Delia attempted to shrug him off, but he held her
steady. “You think I’ll tell you where my little sister is? You don’t know me
very well.”
 
She had no fear, not even a
trickle.

“My mate is dying. Royal blood’s the only thing that
will help her.” There was no sense hiding the truth when every second counted.

She narrowed her eyes. “The Royal Elite don’t
normally take mates, do they?”

“Ulric was once
an Elite
,
if I remember correctly.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, panther. I wasn’t aware any
others had used their new freedom.”

Wesley pleaded with her, “Please, can you help me?”

“Why can’t she heal herself? How bad is it?”

He swallowed hard, afraid to speak the forbidden
truth. “She’s human.”

Delia exhaled, turning her back. “You know I can’t
help you.”

“What about Freya?” He couldn’t keep his voice from
rising. “Where is she?”

“Freya can’t help you, either. None of us can.”

“So it’s okay for her to change a fucking human male
but it’s not okay to save my mate?”

A chair scraped the hardwood in the next room and
footsteps neared the doorway. Delia shoved Wesley toward a stairwell, keeping
them out of sight. “Come on,” she called as she raced down the spiraling stone steps.

She led him to a room on the next level. The young
fox shifter she’d taken as a mate was sitting at a large oak desk in the far
corner of the dimly lit room.

“What’s going on?” he asked, when they both entered
the room.

“I need your help, Caleb. You seem to know more
about the royal family than I do,” said Delia. “Come on, it’s important.”

The three of them left the safety of the castle. It
was pitch black outside, only the distant lights illuminating the manicured
lawns.

“She’s over here,” he said, running in the direction
he’d left Marco and Helen. They were just where he’d left them, but there was
no sign of Targus. He worried about the wolf. Ronan was
a
lethal
Elite and would happily die protecting the palace.

Helen looked terrible, her face nearly as white as
the moon. Marco had her head cradled on his lap. He was too lost to even look
up at them. Wesley’s heart pounded in his chest. He hoped Delia had had a
change of heart.

“Can you help her?” asked Wesley.

Delia knelt down and ran the backs of her fingers
along Helen’s forehead. “I’ve never seen her before. She’s pretty.”

“She’s a human,” said Caleb. “Why is she here?”

“She’s my mate, fox,” Wesley warned. “If you want to
be helpful, you’ll tell me how I can save her life. I’ll give her mine if I
have to.”

Caleb scoffed. “Relax, there’s no need for anyone to
become a martyr.” He squatted down beside Delia. “Can you help her?”

She smiled without humor and shook her head. “She’s
too badly hurt. I’m sorry. If I could have helped I really would have. I have a
lot of respect for the Royal Elite and everything you do for our family.”

Tears burned in Wesley’s eyes but he forced them
away. They only reminded him of his weaknesses and limitations. Nothing he
could do would bring Helen back.

Marco leapt to his feet, bared his fangs, and lunged
forward. “Are you too good to save her,
princess
?
Is she not regal enough for your precious blood?”

“I said she’s too far gone.”

The feral look in the wolf’s eyes was testament to
his loss of humanity. Wesley rested a strong hand on Marco’s shoulder. He was
still a Royal Elite hardwired to protect the royal family, and always would be.