Honorera washed her hands and started peeling potatoes for dinner. Cooking was something she enjoyed, and she hummed softly while she worked. She was in a good mood and felt calm and relaxed after the strange interaction with the wolf in the clearing. She didn’t even know there were any wolves this far south in Vermont.
She was lost in her own musings when she heard things being slammed around in Tanner’s bedroom. Calm fled and she felt the anxiety rise in her gut, and her muscles tense. She never knew how he was going to be, but already the vibe felt bad. He entered the living room and halted suddenly, sniffing the air. "What?? What is that smell?"
She sniffed too, "Um, onion?"
"Fucking hell," he inched closer to her, crowding her with his oversized body. "It's all over you. Who have you been with? You goddamn whore!" He moved fast. Sometimes he could move with supernatural speed, even when he was drunk. He slapped her, and pushed her against the refrigerator, holding her by the neck. "Who is he?"
"What? There's no one? " She cupped a hand over her stinging cheek and shook her head in genuine confusion.
"No one!" He picked an animal hair off her pants, "And who the hell is this?"
She snorted. "A dog! A stray dog in the woods today!" She wasn’t going to tell him it was a wolf, he wouldn’t have believed her anyway.
"A stray dog!" He roared, "Even you can't be that fucking dumb. Did you sleep with him?"
"What?!" she pushed back against him, breaking his hold on her neck. "That's disgusting Tanner!"
He grabbed the collar of her t-shirt, ripping it off her shoulder, and closely inspected her neck for...something, she didn't know what. He looked at one side, and then the other, still cursing and calling her names. "You dumb bitch. You brought him here, to my house?" He struck her again in the face, splitting her lip and bloodying her nose. "I'll kill you! I should have thrown you out when she brought you! I should have killed you then!"
He grabbed the paring knife she'd been using to peel the potatoes, and her eyes widened in fear. Surely he wouldn't really kill her? He'd beaten her more times than she could ever count. He'd left her broken and bloody until she cried out in pain and wished to die... but now there was a mad glint in his eyes. His pupils had narrowed to tiny pinpoints. Honorera knew he was really intent to kill her this time. She struggled against him, even though her tiny body was no match for his massive form. She writhed and wiggled and covered her face with her arms as he slashed wildly with the knife, slicing into her arms, across her stomach, and catching her cheek with the dull blade.
He caught her hair and slammed her head back against the refrigerator, and brought the knife against her neck. He glared at her for one last moment, his eyes full of fury, hatred, and...something else... something like sadness. But not sadness for her, sadness for something else he had lost, probably his young wife of so long ago.
Before he could finish it, before he could slice the knife through her jugular, the back door crashed open.
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Gabriel threw his whole body into the man. Tanner was bigger, and heavier, and years of working at the quarry had given him a lot of muscle. But decades of drinking had also taken their toll on the older man. They wrestled like bears, confined by the small kitchen. With a ferocious roar, Gabriel launched himself at the bigger man, knocking him off balance, until they both crashed through the kitchen table and onto the floor. He punched him in the face and grabbed him by the throat, ready to kill the man, but Honorera cried out.
"No, please! Don't kill him!" Her small hands were on his arm, as if she could restrain him from delivering the death blow.
"He would have killed you, Honorera." The thought made his vision blur with rage, “He hurt you. He deserves to die.”
"Please!" She begged, tears shimmering in her eyes. Tanner was not a kind or loving man, but he was the only family she had ever known. She stared at Gabriel, her eyes wide with fear. He realized with a sickening jolt that she was more afraid of him than she was of the uncle that he had pinned to the floor.
With a frustrated growl Gabriel relented and instead of killing the bastard, he applied pressure on the man's artery until he passed out. He turned to Honorera and caught her just as her eyelids fluttered and she crumpled. He lifted her easily, and leaped out of the trailer, running as fast as he could, cradling her in his arms. "Hold on, baby girl. I've got you now," he whispered to her unconscious form.
He settled her gently in the truck, bucking her in, and peeled off down the dirt road. The ten miles to Cora's and his dilapidated cabin seemed like the longest drive of his life. He screeched to a halt in front of his rental, brought her inside, and laid her on his bed. He dug through his duffel bag and came out with his med kit. In his line of work, he never went anywhere without it.
"She's going to bleed all over my comforter." Cora was in the door which he had neglected to close, frowning at the injured girl. "It's about time someone got her out of there. I always said he'd kill her sooner or later."
Gabriel barely spared the old woman a glance. "Do you have any peroxide?"
She left to go get the peroxide from her bathroom in the farmhouse, and he carefully assessed Honorera's injuries. Several wounds would need stitches, but nothing was fatally serious. The scratch on her face had bled a lot, but it wasn’t actually that deep. He burned with rage, and when he touched her, he felt her pain. Literally, his arms burned, his head ached terribly, and there was a stabbing pain in his gut as if he had sustained the same wounds she had. And he knew he was only feeling a fraction of what she was feeling.
He removed a syringe, and a glass vial he kept for emergencies. In his line of work, he had sometimes sustained serious, and painful injuries. He injected her with the heavy opiate painkiller before he pulled out his suture kit. He had stitched himself many times but he'd never had to stitch up someone else, certainly not his mate, the woman he loved. He swallowed with difficulty.
Cora had returned with a bottle of peroxide and a box of gauze. He began the careful process of cleaning her wounds. Honorera moaned and opened her dark eyes. He brushed her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry my love, it's going to hurt."
"She's your mate?" Cora asked.
He looked up at her sharply. "What do you know about it?"
The old woman chuckled dryly, and pulled her teal muumuu away from her neck, revealing an old scar on her pale, papery skin. She had been marked by a werewolf. "My husband." She explained. "I know everything about it."
"Mr. Shepherd," Honorera mumbled. The opiate painkillers were already taking effect, her eyes were dulled, and her words slurred.
"Hush baby, hold on for me."
He began stitching the deep gash on her belly. She moaned and tried to twist away from him, but Cora came and held her down by her shoulders, with surprising strength for such a frail-looking woman. Gabriel worked as quickly and carefully as he could, trying to keep the stitches small and even to minimize the scarring. But he realized that she already had many scars, some old and silvered, some newer, pink, and shiny. He clenched his teeth as his temper surged again, and he could barely contain he’s wolf’s outrage at the mistreatment of the most important woman in his world. He finished and re-threaded the needle, moving to her arms.
"You aren't a wolf," he said absently to Cora, just to distract himself. "I would have smelled you."
"No. I'm human," She answered, watching him work. "A long time ago, a dozen or so solitary rogues came here and decided to organize their own pack. They were all men, so they took human wives. But my Harold... he found his mate." Her eyes burned with love, pride, and sadness. It didn't happen often, but sometimes a wolf was mated with an ordinary human.
"What happened to the pack?" Gabriel frowned as he began closing another cut, and Honorera moaned again.
Cora frowned darkly. "Most of them died."
Gabriel looked up. "Died? Or were killed?"
"Depends on who you ask."
"You said, 'most'."
"A few of them are still around, but not as a pack anymore."
"Mortem?"
"Yes"
"And Talbot?"
"Oh no, Talbot showed up later. He was looking for a home and had heard there was a rogue pack here, but it was already disbanded by the time he got here. So he just took a job with Mortem and settled on the mountain."
"And what about Honorera?" He focused again on stitching another ragged wound closed.
"Don't know much. Talbot’s sister showed up with her when she was just a baby and left her with Tanner. Tanner has had her ever since."
"And everybody just kept quiet, knowing he was hurting her?" Gabriel snapped angrily, wrapping a bandage gently around Honorera's arm.
"Not everybody kept quiet, but anybody who spoke up got shut down. CPS has been out there, even the state police went out a couple of times."
"Who shut them down?"
Cora shrugged, "Just a guess, but probably Mortem. He owns this town."
Gabriel didn't understand. Why would Mortem want to leave a little girl to be tortured by a drunk uncle? It didn't make sense. He didn't know Harold Mortem, but he’d already made the acquaintance of the son. Knowing that the asshole had prevented Honor from getting help only made him hate the man even more.
Cora stood up and started to leave. She paused in the doorway. "I'm going back to the house. Do you need anything else?"
"Clean blankets. Don't worry, I'll pay for the comforter."
She nodded and hobbled out.
"Mr. Shepherd?" Honorera slurred.
"Hey baby girl," He took her hand and leaned close. He breathed in deeply of her heady scent and found it calmed his temper like a soothing balm.
She looked at him dreamily. "Your eyes..." her forehead wrinkled as if she was trying to connect something, but she couldn't manage. "So beautiful."
He smiled a little. "Are you hurting?"
"No." She frowned. "Yes."
"What hurts?" He leaned closer.
"Everything,” she whispered, blinking slowly.
He smoothed her hair back and eased onto the bed next to her, not minding about the bloody blankets.
"Where are we?" she slurred.
"At my cottage."
"Not the trailer?"
"No, not the trailer. I won't let you go back there again."
"Uncle Tanner went crazy." She looked confused. "Because I smelled like a dog."
Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle. She didn't understand anything, but she was so cute in her innocence.
"You have a nice laugh." She looked at him, squinting her eyes as if it was hard to focus, "who are you, really?"
"I'm yours, Honorera. I've been waiting for you for a long time."
"Oh," She sighed and closed her eyes. "That's so nice."
The heavy painkillers lulled her off to sleep. Cora returned from the house with clean linens and a clean nightgown. "It's an old lady's nightgown," she said shrugging, "But at least you can get her out of her bloody clothes." Gabriel took the clothes and thanked his landlady.
He put a hand on her arm before she could leave again. "Please, tell no one she is here."
"Of course not," Cora looked a little offended. "I'm old, not stupid." She looked at the sleeping girl, "take care of her Mr. Shepherd. There is something special about that girl."
Gabriel didn't need anyone to tell him she was special. He gently eased her off the bed and onto the couch so that he could remove the soiled bedding. That was simple enough. But removing her clothes... his heart thudded painfully in his chest. He didn't think he could remove her t-shirt without disturbing the bandages on her arms, and it was already torn at the neckline. He pulled out his pocket knife, and he spoke to her softly. "Honorera, it's me, Gabriel. I'm going to cut away your shirt, don't be scared. I promise I won't hurt you."
"Mmmhmm" she murmured in her sleep. He carefully sliced away the shirt and the bra which was also soaked with the blood from the laceration on her face. She was naked before him, from the waist down, and he couldn't help but stare. She was so beautiful, so soft, so perfect. He wet a washcloth with warm water and gently bathed her, washing away as much of the dried blood as he could. It was in her hair too, but he couldn't do anything about that. He eased the sleeveless nightgown over her bandages, and then over her head, and gently lifted her torso to pull it down.
Gabriel moved to her jeans and unbuttoned them, and then eased them over her rounded hips. She wore simple, practical cotton panties, and her legs were gorgeous, both soft, and muscular. He imagined them wrapped around his waist while they made love, and he groaned out loud. He knew he was scum for even thinking about such things when she was hurt and unconscious. He carried her back to the clean bed and lay her down.
His mate, his luna, at last.
He stripped down to his boxer briefs and then donned his clean gym shorts. He didn't want to scare her if she woke up before him. He slid into the clean sheets next to her, and gently cradled her in his arms, careful not to touch her wounds. Her scent surrounded him, an intoxicating aphrodisiac, lilacs, and violets. He kissed her temple and closed his eyes, feeling as peaceful and content as he had ever felt in his adult life.