The Hidden Runaway

Part Seven. Xavier.

I'd never seen the old man's face dance with so much joy. His once stern face wrinkled with the many years he'd been on his own with only a bottle as his company was now alive with a crooked smile full of yellowing teeth. It was an almost comical expression.

I'd always thought he'd preferred it that way, his life of solitude as the hermit in the woods. Clearly I was wrong. The old bastard was a softie, or at least for this girl. A girl he barely knew. It was crazy, and honestly, it was spinning me the fuck out.

"She's alive, you see? It's her, I can sense it, my sweet Arabella." He muttered, scarcely loud enough for the rest of us to hear. "What did they do to you?" He asked her still, unconscious form.

Yup. He was still crazy.

"We didn't do anything Paul." Ryan scoffed as set the girl's body down on the sofa Sebastian and I had recently vacated. Free of his burden, he fell back into the armchair across from us. He looked exhausted with heavy bags beneath his eyes. "The fucking psychopath was leading us into witches territory like they wouldn't kill him as well. I considered my options, and when I went to cut him off, the bastard ran a red light and drove straight into us."

He shook his head at the thought, clearly exasperated as he accepted the pack of frozen peas he was handed, a grateful smile on his lips for his wife. "So we get out, and so do they, all staunched up like they're going to try and take half the pack on their own; I honestly think they would've tried too. Or at least she would've. Matthew though, despite driving into a head on seemed to have his shit more together, he realised pretty fast they were fucked. So he gave in, not without a few good hits mind you."

A small smirk touched his features, his bottom lip curling up on one side. It was short lived though, and after the brief moment of what I could only describe as sick joy left his face, his face fell.

"She wasn't so willing to give up though." He paused, but instead of continuing, he went quiet, pressing the bag of frozen peas to his swollen jaw. I wondered briefly if it was a result of the crash, or Murray's 'few good hits'.

"No. She wasn't." My Father continued. "I had him at gunpoint, though he'd surrendered, I didn't trust him. I can't, not after..." He trailed, shaking his head to erase the hint of emotion that had touched his features. Instead, he composed himself. Stern green eyes gazing at the awaiting faces in the room, his pack members.

I couldn't remember the before. Before he'd become the Alpha. But I'd seen photos in our family photo albums. Photos of him, young and smiling, golden blonde hair neatly framing his face. Now it hung loosely, obstructing his eyes some. His face was marred with small scars that had mostly faded, thanks to the wolf gene. Being Alpha clearly took its toll.

"She kept resisting. And when the girl." He glanced at Paul who had shot him a look. "Arabella. When Arabella climbed out of the car, she lunged. She'd have killed Ryan. I was all over her expression, she wanted blood. Instead, he spilled hers."

He fell quiet, his gaze landing upon Ryan's who had gone deathly pale. All was still for a moment, then my father softened, a rarity for him, and a small pained smile touched his lips. "He did exactly what I would've done, and if he hadn't have, I'm sure she would've ripped his throat out."

"Tragic." Paul chimed in, a menacing grin on his lips. "And Murray?" He asked, the hopeful tone making my stomach churn.

"In lockup. Before you say anything Paul. Don't. He's the right to it, he submitted. He surrendered, and that girl you care so deeply for, she has no idea who she is, or what she is. Keeping him alive was as much for her as it is anything. Waiting won't cause her or you any harm, but acting rashly could."

"She doesn't know?' He asked simply.

"She shifted on the road. And given her reaction. She had no idea."

Rough. The first shift was never fun.

"Mum?"

A soft whimper silenced the room, and instantly Paul fell to his knees beside the girl.

"Arabella?" He murmured softly. "It's okay, you're okay."

"What? Where?" She asked in a daze, her voice growing stronger as she woke, quickly sitting up, her startled gaze darting around the room, clearly disorientated as her eyes grazed across each of the pack members that couldn't tear their eyes away from her. It must have been daunting, waking up somewhere unfamiliar with a dozen strangers staring at you. I went to drag my eyes away from her in an attempt to grant her privacy when her eyes found mine.

Bright blue eyes held my own. And though it was the first time I'd ever seen them, she seemed so familiar. I couldn't look away, despite the burning intensity that left me feeling as if I was to throw up right there and then on the Miller's carpet. I couldn't look away. I couldn't imagine ever looking away from her, she was mine, and my wolf was certain of it.

My mate was Arabella Young. The Lost Wolf.