Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 10 **

Dior

I didn't go back to school after enjoying breakfast at the diner together with Patricia. I'm too tired. It's like I'm running a fever—the symptoms are all there. I'm sweating and freezing, but I took my temperature, and I'm supposedly fine.

Groaning, I shift around in the tall grass in our backyard. I called an Uber from a borrowed phone in the other town and had the driver take Patricia to a hotel nearby.

Although the stubborn woman was fighting me, saying she couldn't accept it, I somehow convinced her to let me pay for her stay at Scandic. Patricia will live there for an entire month, with all-inclusive meals and room cleaning every day.

I don't mind the price. I'm a rich alpha, and paying for her stay there is better than the alternative of letting her stay with William.

Anger churns in my stomach at the idea of William touching her, but then it's replaced by pure pain. I experienced another attack of what I had this morning, and it grows worse every second.

What the hell is happening to me?!

The full moon has replaced the sun, and as I witness the clouds move to reveal the white orb, my teeth seem to become longer. A howl gets stuck inside my throat, and my brain blackens out until I can only focus on simple things, like my legs growing insanely tall and muscular with white fur covering them.

I stare at my hands, which are now furry, while my nails have turned into razor-sharp blades. Confused and frankly scared out of my mind, I walk on two into the forest behind our house.

"CAAW!"

The sound of a raven picks my interest, and suddenly, my thoughts get replaced by bone-deep instincts. Kill, I have to kill this bird, rip it to shreds and eat it.

I stand on my tiptoes, lifting my body as high as I can to sniff the air for this annoying-as-hell bird. I'm more prominent than a bear, something out of this world—I pick up on that before the last brain cell leaves my head.

Food.

Eat.

Sleep.

Destroy.

I get down on all fours, following the scent of the raven. There is another caw, and I race past bushes and trees, feeling the wind hit my face. I'm happy and free of worries. I forget about the bird and instead run faster, panting like a dog.

The canopies above me are letting a stream of moonlight hit my fur, and I close my eyes, enjoying the moment.

My claws are excellent for digging into the ground and then pushing me off like a rocket. I'm charged like a lightning bolt, darting until, suddenly, I spot people.

I inhale the air, muttering at the stink of shape-shifters.

"Darling, thank you for taking me here."

I stare down at what appears to be a man and a woman lying on a blanket. They are stargazing, until the man tenses, probably noticing something is wrong.

"What is that smell?"

I tilt my head, curious why this man looks familiar. We can't be friends—we aren't even the same species. I'm a werewolf, whereas this man is the fake kind, the one that takes the shape of a wolf at will.

"What the fuck?!"

My eyes widen when I realize the man has turned around and is now busy gaping up at me. I take a step back, not wanting this to spiral into a fight, but his mate shifts into a wolf.

The woman, dark with dreadlocks, stares at me as if she has seen nothing like me. While I can't communicate or understand the other race, I'm not dumb enough not to realize this woman is afraid of me.

Why?

I have done nothing, and their kind isn't on my menu unless they try anything.

"Marcus, it's fucking huge!" The woman looks me up and down. Her eyes seem ready to explode. "What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" The man is yelling something I can't understand to his mate while appearing terrified. "Dior isn't responding to my calls, and I can't reach him through the mind-link!"

"Well, we can't let this monster run loose! We have to try to take it down without our alpha! Imagine the damage a monster as big as a car can cause if we don't put a stop to it!"

"Agreed!"

Do they wish to challenge me?

The answer is yes.

Both shape-shifters jump at me, biting into my sides. I roar in a fury and throw them off me. I'm bigger and far more powerful—they are stupid if they think they have a chance.

But, of course, they jump at me again, this time biting into my arm so hard that blood gushes out. The pain is unbearable, and I roar in an attempt to have them let me go, but I'm not that lucky. Other wolves join the fight until I'm fighting an entire pack of them.

Oddly enough, I get the sense I know these shape-shifters, but my brain is clouded, and there are no memories of people. I remember nothing, only how good it felt to run. Now, I'm in agony and dancing in the forest with a pack of wolves.

I roar a second time, mad at the blood trickling down my arms and legs. I can no longer go easy on these wolves and slash through a female one jumping at me. The wolf whines as my claws cut into its stomach, ripping out its contents until its eyes fade.

Grunting, I throw the dead wolf into a tree and roar at the other wolves that back off in response. Whimpers echo against the trees, and then I'm standing there, breathing hard while the moonlight cast me in this ethereal glow.

Finally, I'm alone and free to run.

***

I wake up with a raging headache, with no memory of how I ended up in the middle of the forest. I'm naked and shudder at the whistling wind traveling past the trees.

"What the hell..." I mutter and push myself up, only to groan at how sore my body feels.

My arms are throbbing, and my muscles are pumped. It looks like I've spent hours at the gym when, in reality, I've been sleeping like a baby.

'Dior?!' Marcus' voice comes in through the mind-link. It's too loud, which makes me grimace. 'Are you there? Please, we need you! Gloria is dead, and there is this-... Thing running loose in the forest!'

'Thing?' I question.

'Yeah, man, ever read those comic books about werewolves? The thing we saw yesterday was larger than a bear, with long arms and claws, and I bet it could tear through metal.'

I laugh. 'Are you sure you weren't hallucinating?'

'Gloria is dead! My mate is gone, Dior! That thing murdered her before my eyes, so yes, I'm positive of what I saw—of what we all fucking saw! Where were you, man?!'

I don't reply because it's then I notice my hands and arms are covered in blood. I inhale the scent, and time ticks by in slow motion—my hands smell like Gloria.

Icy fear travels through my entire system. What the hell have I done? Did I kill my pack member? What type of disgusting monster have I become? Fucking shit!

I can't have killed Gloria—she was my friend!

And if I killed her, then what the hell am I supposed to do now?!

How do I fix this mess?!

'Dior?' Marcus is still trying to get a hold of me. 'Are you there? We can't find the monster werewolf, and we need your help!'

Slowly, I sit down in the grass, staring out into space with glazed eyes. I don't have to search for the monster—it's right here, inside of me, waiting for a chance to come out and play.

Wrecked, I find a nearby lake to wash away my sin. I'm ignoring my pack's voices, too broken to go and find them. I killed someone. Gloria is dead because of me. What the hell do I do now?

I stare down at my reflection, hating what I see. My father always told me never to show emotions when he beat me when I was younger, that only weaklings cried. I believed him and stared at the world with bored eyes, dead to everyone around me.

But right now, the glass is about to swim over, and the emotions are about to pour out. Men aren't supposed to cry, yet I'm damn close. My eyelids are prickling by the tears hiding behind them, and my chest is heavy, making every breath a nuisance.

"At least the lake is beautiful..." I mumble to myself.

I stand up, stretching until I hear a gurgle. Curiously, I turn around and lift my eyebrows at Patricia. She is standing there, between the trees and looking like she might freak out. Her eyes are attached to my naked ass, and I smile despite the situation.

"Enjoying the morning view?"

The panic on her face is adorable. Her attraction towards me is obvious, and the feeling is mutual. We might be enemies, but chemistry has always been there, even more after our time together. But even though I can see her reaction to me on her reddening skin, her body language is still tense and ready to fight.

Try as I might, but Patricia won't invite me in. Her walls are high and mighty, and we will remain this way unless something drastically changes.

"I came to run free this morning."

"What about school?" I ask.

She sighs, trying hard to keep her eyes on mine. I resist the temptation of stepping between us, entirely naked. Her reaction then would probably be priceless, but I shouldn't flirt with my enemy.

I killed someone, and soon, after everyone has found out, my pack members will shun me, possibly kill me. And Patricia will gloat and tell everyone that she knew I was a monster all along.

"I can't focus on school with everyone that has happened. My mother threw me out. And my father doesn't have a voice in our house. So, I will live at that hotel."

Silently, I study Patricia's insecure face twisted with anger, then turn to gaze at the water.

"I could remove that rule about not sheltering strays."

"No, the damage is already done. My mother made her choice, and I've made mine. She put the pack before me, and I value my freedom and happiness. I wouldn't return unless she begged on her knees."

A wide smile finds me. "You're strong, Patty."

I mean my words, but the nickname makes the woman recoil. Her eyes are suspicious, even though I say "Patty" with love. I guess it's something she won't ever figure out.

"I can't tell if you're sarcastic or not."

I laugh, walking past her with my heart a hundred times lighter. I'm no longer drowning. How does Patricia do this to me? I was sad, but now I'm a smiling fool, curious if I can thaw through the ice in her glare someday.

"I was entirely serious." I meet her eyes, still smiling. "You have a good day, Patricia."

Surprise flickers in those beautiful eyes when I say her full name, and I wink at her before shape-shifting. I launch myself at the path behind her, turning around in my wolf form when I'm a few feet away. Patricia is staring at me, and I stretch my neck, howling playfully before facing her narrow gaze.

"Oh, I'm not joining you for a run!" Patricia makes this sho-sho motion with her hands. "Go away, play with your pack!"

She doesn't have to tell me twice.

I turn around, leaving her behind to talk with my loyal beta. I'm not sure how to word myself or what I should tell them, but one thing is for sure—I'm a freak of nature, undeserving of anything nice.