Fated. Enemy Mine.

by Ariel Lei

  “What is your name?” the man asked. Neoma noticed he had something in his hand. She frowned at the objected, trying to figure out what it was. When she finally realised, she let out a small gasp.

  It was a needle.

  She moved across the room and cowered in the corner. The guy followed and bent down next to her. He smelt like dry earth and brandy. It was his natural scent.

  “Your name?” he asked a second time. Again, she ignored him, knowing if she gave away her name he would know who her father was. She couldn’t tell him. They could try and use her to their advantage. Her Pack came first. She would protect them at all costs.

  The guy let out an aggravated sigh and moved the needle towards her arm. She tried to smack it away, but he caught her wrist with his free hand. With lightening speed, he jabbed her arm. She cried out.

  “It’s wolfbane. It will weaken you so you can’t communicate with your fellow Pack member when he wakes up. You won’t be able to shift either,” he explained, pulling the needle out. She decided against telling him she wasn’t at the age to shift yet. She rubbed her arm in an attempt to comfort the sting the needle had left.

  The man stood up and stared down at her. She looked up at him. His eyes were the same colour as the wolf who had charged at her in the forest. Was it him? The one who had knocked her over? She put her hand to her head and felt a small lump from where she had banged it. It was bruised.

  “Jonas, I’ll question this one. Go and question the male. He’s just woken up.” The commanding voice sent a shiver down Neoma’s spine. The sudden smell of spice and mint wrapped around her. The unfamiliar scent made her body war up.

  Jonas stepped aside. Her eyes fell to the man who had just spoken. The first thing she noticed was that he emanated Alpha power. He was dressed in black jeans and a blue button up shirt. Despite being lean, Neoma sensed he was strong. He was tall, at least six feet, and looked to be in his middle twenties like the other guy, Jonas. His hair was dark blonde and wavy, falling just past his ears. His eyes were a shade of green and grey. His features were boyish and delicate. There was only one word to describe him.

  Perfect.

  Neoma held the strangers gaze, fighting to stay crouched in the corner and not go to him like her body wanted. When he broke eye contact to look at Jonas, realization crashed down on her like a ton of bricks.

  No. It can’t be.

  Neoma’s eyes widened. This man couldn’t be her mate. He was the enemy. And worse, he was Alpha Mason MacKaye.

  She wanted to deny what she was feeling, but the pull she felt towards him wasn’t leaving much room for doubt. For once in her life, Neoma was grateful that her inner animal was asleep deep within her. It meant she had more control over herself, and her instincts weren’t as strong.

  She and this man were enemies. They couldn’t be together. And she was already promised to another.

  Jonas left the room. The Alpha shut the door and stepped towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest. “What’s your name?” he asked. His question was met with silence. “Why did you cross onto my territory?” She didn’t know why they’d crossed onto his land so she couldn’t answer.

  Alpha MacKaye crouched down to her level and met her gaze by lowering his head. “You know that I’m your mate,” he sneered. When she didn’t answer again, his eyes turned cold. She wasn’t the type of person to let someone intimidate her, however, she knew she had to be smart in order to survive. She nodded her head. The corner of his mouth tugged up into a bitter smile. She tried not to let it bother her.

  “You are the enemy. I rejected you from the moment I saw you,” he declared in a hard, icy tone. She knew he was going to, but it still stung to hear him say it.

  “You are nothing to me. Don’t think because you are my mate that I won’t hurt you. Kill you even. I would do both in a heartbeat.” He moved a little closer. He was trying to scare her. And in truth, she was scared, but not as much as she should have been.

  She decided to play on her emotions and let him believe she was more scared of him than what she really was. She deliberately started breathing heavier. His hand shot out, and he grabbed her chin. Sparks ignited where he touched, warming her skin. She blinked a few times in shock. His darkening eyes bore into hers.

  “You’re scared. And you should be,” he whispered. She took in a shuddering breath. The sparks she felt made her want to cry, because she knew she’d never be able to shut her eyes and enjoy them without feeling threatened by him. It was cruel of the fates to pair her up with a man who despised her. He would never love her. And she would never get the chance to love him. Too much bad blood ran between their Packs. His hatred for her kin burned too deep.

  “Do you know what I do to my enemies when I capture them?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. Again, she remained silent. It was for the best. The less she spoke, the less chance there was of saying something she’d regret, something that could get her into more trouble than she was already in.

  “They get tortured if they don’t cooperate and answer questions.” His hand moved from her chin to grab her by the back of the head. He tangled his hand into her hair, and pulled her forward so that she was face to face with him. They were mere inches apart, his lips so close to hers that she could feel his warm breath on her face. The closeness was making her whole body tingle.

  “So far, you have failed to answer my questions. Perhaps I should give you a taste of torture,” he growled.

  Mason.

  Mason had watched the girl from the viewing window outside her cell as she woke up. She was the first female prisoner he’d ever had. He’d tried his hardest to clear his mind of her during the time she was unconscious, but it had been difficult because he kept hearing the whispers from his men who’d seen her during the fight with her Pack members.

  When he saw her clearly for the first time, he was floored by her beauty. He understood why they were talking about her. She was absolutely gorgeous. And it made rejecting her that much harder.

  She had wavy, pale blonde hair that flowed down to her waist, blue eyes that sparkled like diamonds, thick, inviting lips, and the cutest button nose he had ever seen. She was tall and skinny. He usually preferred curvier women, but it was easily disregarded. Her skirt and belly top was made out of brown animal skin. She wore sandals that wrapped around her legs. A feathery necklace sat around her slender neck, and vine bracelets around the top of her arms.

  The Tribal Pack wasn’t like modern day Packs. They lived away from civilisation. Their lives didn’t consist of money, technology, or normal day to day living. They lived wild and free in the boreal forest somewhere. They weren’t the most undomesticated Pack Mason knew of, the Rogue Pack, led by Alpha Drake, was the worst, but nevertheless, he still despised them.

  So far the girl had not spoken. And getting this close to her in an attempt to scare her into talking wasn’t a good idea. He was drowning in her alluring scent. His wolf was scratching under the surface to get out. The animal within him wanted to claim what was his. At that moment, there was only one kind of torture he wanted to give her, and it wasn't the painful kind. He shook his head and stood, turning his back on her.

  Fuck. This isn’t good.

  He tried to concentrate, ignoring the ache in his pants. “I’ll be back tomorrow. You will answer my questions. Or the torture will begin,” he ground out between his teeth. He stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  “Give her some food and water,” he snapped at the guard on duty as he passed to leave. As soon as he was outside he shifted into his large, brown and black wolf, and darted in the direction of the village. He needed a distraction.

  Courtney, meet me at my house, he mind linked to his on and off fling. She was also Jonas’s and Jake’s sister. She would take his mind off his mate. He hoped. He still didn’t know her name, and that pissed him off.

  Tomorrow, he would get her to talk. Even if he had to hurt her to do it.

  Chapter Three. />
  Neoma.

  At the sound of the cell door opening, Neoma jumped up from the bed. She’d had a restless night, thinking about what type of torture she’d have to endure if she didn’t answer the questions she was asked today.

  Her heart started racing as the door opened fully. Wade was pushed into the room by Jonas. She gasped at the sight of him. He was topless, wearing black, baggy pants. Blue and purple bruises covered his swollen face. When his puffed up eyes connected with hers, he grimaced as if in pain. Neoma started for him, but froze a few feet away when someone else walked into the room.

  Mason.

  He was dressed in brown chinos, a black jacket with a white tee underneath, and brown boots. His ear length blonde hair was unkempt. When his grey and green eyes locked onto her, he smirked, and then darted forward and grabbed her hand. Electricity ran up her arm.

  “Don’t fucking touch-” Jonas cut Wade off with a punch to his gut. He groaned and fell to the floor on his knees. Neoma whimpered and tried to get to him. Mason pulled her back to him.

  “Don’t,” he warned, his eyes flashing dangerously. She swallowed nervously.

  Another man walked into the room holding two chairs. He was almost identical to Jonas. His dark brown hair was longer, but it was obvious they were twins. They had the same chiselled facial features and dark blue eyes.

  “Jake, put the chairs in the middle,” Mason ordered. Jake carried the chairs into the middle of the room and set them down in front of each other a few feet apart. Jonas yanked Wade up from the floor and roughly shoved him towards one of them. He forced him onto it and then tied his hands behind his back.

  When Mason shoved Neoma down onto one, she noticed Jake had a belt around his jeans, holding several different daggers and a small black pouch.

  An acrid smell drifted up her nose. The daggers are made from silver. Her body shuddered with fear. Silver burned werewolves.

  Mason grabbed her hand and joined it with the one he was already holding, tying them to the back of the chair with some rope. She bit her bottom lip as he pulled the rope tight against her flesh.

  “Now,” he said, standing straight, “time for some answers.” He looked from her to Jake. He held his hand out, and Jake passed him a curved dagger with a black handle. He then tossed him the black pouch, and he caught it swiftly with his other hand. “You can go,” his tone was dismissive. Jake left immediately.

  Neoma took in a deep breath, and tried to push her fear aside. Mason lowered himself in front of her, making them eye level with each other. He pulled a needle from the back of his pocket, placed it in his mouth, and tore off the cap, spitting it onto the floor.

  “Wolfbane,” he muttered, as he stuck the needle into her arm. She didn’t cry out like the first time she was injected with it. She was already weak and tired. She’d feel worse when this dose of wolfbane set in. She’d been given food and water the day before, but it wasn’t enough to keep up her strength.

  “What is your name?” Mason asked, smoothly. And the interrogation starts.

  She looked over at Wade to see him shake his head. The movement was so small she barely saw it. Don’t tell them, were the words he’d silently conversed.

  When she looked back at Mason, she saw that he was glaring at her. “I will hurt you,” he threatened, lifting the silver dagger towards her. She gulped against her will and tried to lean back in the chair as he moved the dagger to her chest.

  “Your name?” His voice was dangerously quiet. Neoma couldn’t tell him. It would most likely be her death sentence. She bit down on her lip and shut her eyes, unwilling to speak.

  “Fine. Have it your way.” A sharp, burning pain erupted just above her right breast. Her eyes flew open and she cried out. Her skin felt like it was sizzling. She’d never been burned with silver before. It hurt more than she thought it would.

  “No. Don’t fucking touch her,” Wade screamed. Neoma looked down. She was bleeding from a deep cut a few inches long. It was on fire. Biting down on her lip, she tried not to cry. She knew it would leave a scar because it was made with silver. Had she been of the age to change into her wolf, and then been cut, it wouldn’t have. But as it was, she didn’t yet have her healing abilities, and any scars that were caused by silver before that remained. She healed only slightly faster than a human.

  “Why were you trying to protect her in the forest?” Mason’s attention was now on Wade. Wade ground his teeth together.

  “Would you not protect one of your Pack females?” Wade hissed. Mason turned his attention back to Neoma. Anger burned in his eyes.

  “There’s more to it than just protecting a Pack female. Are you lovers?” His eyes darkened. Neoma blinked a few times, shocked by the question.

  “You could say that,” Wade replied. What in the goddess’s name was his doing? Did he know Mason was her mate, and was using it to anger him? Mason’s eyes darkened even more.

  “Jonas.” His gaze stayed on Neoma as he held the dagger and black pouch out to him. “Cut him to pieces. Don’t stop unless she answers my question,” he ordered, “and remember, he won’t be able to heal as quickly with wolfbane in his system. Eventually, he will bleed to death.”

  “Don’t tell them anything,” Wade ordered. He groaned when Jonas pressed the dagger to his chest and started slicing across. Neoma felt her lips tremble. Tears pooled in her eyes. Jonas put his hand into the black pouch and pulled out some white powder. It was salt. He rubbed it into Wades cut and he thrashed wildly. Neoma looked back at Mason.

  “Y...you’re evil,” she whispered. Surprise crossed his face at hearing her speak for the first time, but it passed quickly, replaced by determination. He grabbed her by the hair, pulling her face towards his. He moved his mouth to her ear.

  “Tell me your name,” he commanded, his voice a whisper. When she didn’t answer, he angled her head in Wade’s direction, forcing her to watch as Jonas sliced at his chest over and over again. Tears streamed down her face, and her body shook as she took in his beaten state. All she could smell was his blood. The sound of his breathless cries was all she could hear. His eyes connected with hers. He must have seen her defeated look, because they widened slightly.

  “Please,” she begged on a sob, “stop hurting him.” She couldn’t stand to see him suffer anymore.

  Mason grabbed her by the chin and made her look at him again. For a split second, she thought she saw regret flash in his eyes, but it was gone as fast as it appeared, so she wasn’t sure.

  “He’ll stop when you tell me your name.” There was no emotion in his voice. It was cold and flat. She licked a fallen tear from her lips, and his eyes followed the movement. A muscle in his jaw started ticking.

  “Is hiding your name really worth his life? Do you want his death on your conscience,” he asked, his voice suddenly soft.

  My life isn’t worth more than Wade’s. She wouldn’t let him suffer because of her. Giving away her identity was a small price to pay for her idiocy. She should never have followed him in the first place. They wouldn’t be there if she hadn’t.

  She took in a shaky breath before speaking.

  “My name is Neoma. Neoma Earl.”

  Chapter Four.

  Mason.

  Mason gritted his teeth in anger. His mate really was the daughter of his worst enemy. A big part of him had been hoping she wasn’t. He could have overlooked the fact that she was part of the enemy Pack, but he couldn’t ignore the blood that ran through her veins.

  Neoma Earl. He repeated her name in his head over and over again, and his stomach twisted in disgust.

  “What have you done?” the man behind him shouted. The girl trembled and cried harder.

  “Get him out of here,” Mason growled. He shut his eyes to calm his temper as he listened to the guy struggle with Jonas as he dragged him out of the cell. When the door shut behind them, he sighed and rubbed his temple.

  Neoma would be a perfect way to get revenge for his mother’s murder. He wanted to kill
her. He really did. The trouble was - he couldn’t.

  After cutting her with the silver dagger, he’d felt guilt like he’d never felt before. It was even worse because he was the cause of it. But, didn’t she deserve to suffer like he had?

  After his mother had been killed, his father became cold and unapproachable. He had no personal time for Mason at all. He made him train none stop, so he never had the chance to enjoy his childhood. He was brought up with the idea of getting revenge, and to show no mercy to those who were his enemies.

  Now, the opportunity to finally take that revenge was sitting in front of him, trembling. Had she not been his mate, he would have killed her without thought.

  Her cherry and honeysuckle scent was driving him crazy. He wanted to drown in it as much as he wanted to resist the effect it had on him. He didn’t like the fear and vulnerability he saw in her watery blue eyes, and ignoring his instincts to comfort her was difficult. The animal inside him wanted her more than anything he’d ever wanted before. Mason wasn’t one to fight his instincts, but he would fight them where this girl was concerned.

  “Why did you cross onto my territory? Did your father send you?” he asked, untying her from the chair. She looked at him warily as she rubbed her red wrists. He growled when she didn’t answer, his temper beginning to flare again. Her constant silence was really starting frustrate him.

  He grabbed her and pulled her up from the chair, making her gasp in surprise. Her blue eyes widened, and her body stiffened. “You are starting to test my fucking patience,” he snapped. She whimpered.

  “You’re hurting me.” He didn’t realise he was digging his nails into her slender shoulders. He loosened his grip and let out an aggravated sigh. He needed to leave, or he’d do something he’d regret. Without another word, he left her cell.

  He’d deal with her when his mind was clearer.