Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 21 **

Patricia

As soon as Dior has left me, I hurry after him. I have to swim through a herd of drunk teenagers. A talkative guy shoves an elbow into my shoulder, and I respond by pushing him out of the way. He mumbles a swear word, but I don't stop to hear him out.

I'm moving fast, eyeing the clock on the wall while music is blasting all around me. Dior will turn eighteen in ten minutes, and I speed up my pace, desperate to find the man himself.

It's easier said than done. My old pack members appear to have made it their sole purpose to shout out to another. They high-five and block my way, forcing me to groan inaudibly. Somehow, I slip past them while laughter bounces off the walls.

A few girls from my schools are eyeing me as I pass them, looking at me as if I don't belong here. I hear them whisper to one another, questioning who the hell invited me here. It takes a lot of strength to push their menacing voices out through my ears and instead focus on Dior's colossal frame leaning against the wall ahead of me.

Marcus is talking while Dior is drinking from a beer bottle with what seems like a bored expression plastered to his lips.

"So I have the most amazing birthday present for you!" Marcus brags and winks at Brad, who beams back at him. "I had to hire a witch and everything to set it up!"

Dior's lips part in apprehension, and I share his concern. Alice is the only friendly witch that I've met. Most of them are treacherous, and I wouldn't trust one to conjure a spell for me, even if my life depended on it.

"Yes! Do you know old lady Grace? She lives down by the lake, close to here. Anyway, after I let her touch Brad's chest and promised to let her meet him again, she spoke in this weird language and placed a spell over this entire area!"

Dior's breathing seizes, and horror flashes on his face. He whispers his question in a voice that tells tales of his inner anger that he is doing everything to control.

"What kind of spell did she place in this area?" He asks.

Marcus beams up at his alpha. "Well, we are werewolves. So I thought, 'why not make it so that there is a full moon on Dior's birthday night' and had her fix it for me!"

I stop walking, perplexed by the range of emotions on Dior's face. My eyes catch fear, anger, guilt, regret, and even a hint of remorse before he is moving, hurrying for the door.

"Hey, where are you going!" Riley calls after her boyfriend. "Aren't you happy about the full moon?!"

Dior is talking in a shaky voice, pushing past Brad and some other random pack member. "I need to grab some air—I promise to be back right before the clock strikes twelve!"

Riley grabs his arm, but Dior pushes her off him. I've never seen him so shaken, and I hold my breath when his eyes find mine. His jaw slacks to the floor as if he is startled to see me standing there, which makes two of us—I'm confused why I followed him.

I keep eyeing him until there are screeches all around us. People are yelling about something in the kitchen, gaining the attention of everyone. The only person not even looking in that direction is Dior, who slips out through the door.

Chaos unfolds, and I turn around, gasping at the sight of one of the zombie creatures standing over the dead body of a girl. Her eyes are caught in a stare, and blood is trickling down from her chest.

I shudder at the sight. Every human stares at the creature in fear while my former pack members prepare to fight the monster resembling a giant snake.

"Where the hell did that creature come from?!" Marcus yells before busting through his clothes.

A colossal wolf takes his place, and I decide things are under control inside the lake house—my former pack members can handle the snake while I can follow Dior. I know the snake is dangerous and should be murdered, yet there is an ache inside my chest begging me to follow Dior, who fled through the door.

Disabled by the strange emotions flowing through me, I hurry for the door and leave the battle behind me. There are screams behind me and the sound of items crashing to the floor. Guilt pierces through me at that, yet my heart is still set on following Dior.

I sniff the air the minute I'm standing on the porch, and once I catch his scent, I sprint out into the forest. Shape-shifting would be the best idea to find him, but then I can't call his name.

"Dior!"

I'm not used to using his name without sounding like I wish to murder him and grimace at the change in my tone. My voice is too soft, making me sound like someone frantic to find him.

Perhaps yelling would be better? Then at least, I don't have to feel embarrassed. Yes. Raising my voice sounds like a good idea.

"DIOR!"

I enter the dark forest, aware of the canopies swaying from side to side under the bright moonlight. The moss on the ground is illuminated, and my shoes sink into the dirt as I walk forward.

The background is filled with the fight inside the lake house, but it disappears as I walk further into the woods.

I circle my fingers around my mouth, inhaling before yelling at the top of my lungs. "DIOR?! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! THERE IS A ZOMBIE SNAKE INSIDE OF YOUR DAMN HOUSE, AND YOU'RE OUT HERE, DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT!"

As expected, there isn't a reply, only the wind drifting through the forest like a cold caress. I keep walking, pausing, when I hear a branch snap ahead of me. My eyes dart through the dark. I'm not a scaredy-cat, yet something about the atmosphere is making me shake.

It feels like I'm being watched, and I take a defensive stance, readying myself to shape-shift, only it never comes. My eyes get caught on a giant creature standing between two trees.

White fur, the color of freshly fallen snow, blows in the wind, and a fuzzy head larger than that of a bear turns in my direction. Blue eyes curiously peer into mine, and although I should probably be afraid, I'm hit with a wave of longing.

What the hell?

I stare ahead. I've never seen this type of creature before. It's standing on its hind legs, taller than most miniature trees, and moving for me with its black nose sniffing the air. It got the face of a wolf, but the body of an enormous bear mixed with a human?

Ironically, I would call the creature before me a werewolf if I were a human who didn't know better since it resembles the monstrous creatures from the movies and books more than any of my former pack members.

With my body unmoving, I stand entirely still even as a nose inches in on me, smelling my hair. I then close my eyes when a tongue licks my ear and laugh at the ticklish sensation.

"Alright, alright, stop that!"

I crack one eye open, breathing another laugh, when I find my new friend panting like a dog. I'm not sure how, but the mate bond zaps between us, making me take a deep breath.

"It couldn't be..." I whisper. "Are you Dior?"

A triangle-shaped ear lifts, and the wolf-like creature tilts its head as if the name holds meaning. But while those blue eyes are peering into mine without a trace of aggression, I get the sense this creature isn't entirely aware of who I am—there is none of Dior's arrogance. It feels like I'm faced with a friendly dog rather than a person.

I laugh. "Well, maybe you're not Dior?"

My white, fuzzy friend gets down on all fours, pressing a wet nose into my stomach. I'm wearing a thin shirt and giggle at the coldness spreading over my skin.

"You want scratches, huh?" I speak in the high-pitched voice I use for our neighbor's dog and reach out my hand to brush behind the creature's fluffy ears. "Wah, your fur is so soft!"

I keep at it, petting my new friend until I pick up voices in the distance. My eyes dart to the bushes, where June, William, and other Summerburst members are leering at me.

"If it isn't the little werewolf, the fearless one who didn't want to rat out her alpha's weakness."

June smiles brightly at me after speaking, not shy of letting me see her sharp canine teeth. Her eyes are of an odd color tonight, and her pale, porcelain skin gives her an ethereal appearance. She is beautiful, but instead of looking like an angel, she resembles a demon—deadly, and without a doubt, fallen.

"June..." I breathe and take a step back. "What are you doing on Winterbite territory?"

The white beast is growling, and I have to agree with him—I don't think June's intentions are friendly. Her eyes are too invested in mine, and I shudder at her growing smile.

"I'm here on business."

My stomach gurgles. "What kind of business?"

"Oh, you will soon find out, little wolf. I can now see why you were so defensive of Dior." June nods at the beast standing next to me. Her teeth glimmer in the moonlight. "You were fated all along, mates chosen by the moon goddess herself."

Shock reverberates through my body. I lift my eyes to my new friend and gasp at the curious eyes meeting mine. "Dior?"

I don't get a reply. William and the other werewolves shift in the blink of an eye and lunge for us, which my new friend doesn't seem to appreciate. The beast, who might be Dior, lifts its massive body like a threatened bear and growls in wrath.

Every wolf freezes in response, suddenly not able to move as the enormous creature glares at them. The entire pack seems to fear the white beast, everyone except for William, who dumbly surges forward.

It's not a fair fight.

William gets smacked away by a giant paw in the blink of an eye, causing the rest of the wolves to whimper. Ears fold, and tails bend as the entire Summerburst pack peers up at the white beast.

"What the hell are you all waiting for?" June exclaims. She is glowering at us, drawing blood from her lower lip. Her eyes glow red in response, which isn't precisely werewolf-like. "Attack them! You don't have to kill the white beast, but the girl is to be kidnapped and brought to my mansion!"

"Yes, but..." William is speaking now. He is standing further away, eyeing the white beast in confusion. His arm is at an unnatural angle, and it strikes me it seems he rather be anywhere else—is his mate forcing him to be here? "One would have to be crazy to take on that thing! We don't have the fucking men to defeat it!"

June screeches. "What don't you mean we don't have the men?" Her eyes dart to every member of her pack before she hisses at me. Frustration seems to be her winning emotion. "Do I have to do everything by myself?"

I shudder at the scent carried to my nose. June has a smell that reminds me of a vampire, but she reeks of a werewolf, too. Could she be a hybrid? I keep staring at her, jumping in startlement when she moves faster than lightning, tackling me into a nearby tree.

A hand with claws instead of nails holds a vise grip around my throat, making it impossible to breathe. My head is swimming as I struggle to reach the ground but fail.

For someone so small and frail, June's strength is out of this world. She can't be an ordinary werewolf! I kick and a flail, but the other woman is much stronger than me. June is aware of it too, which makes her lips curl higher up her stunning face.

"Aw, you're so sweet for trying to escape," June leans forward with a victorious smile. "I won't kill you, little wolf, but you will suffer—that I can promise you."