Our Wild Mate *Teaser*

2 Fight or Flight

Nadia

Pain from a throbbing headache wakes me from a deep slumber. My throat feels like the Sahara as I try to swallow while every muscle in my body aches, serving as a reminder as to why I'm not supposed to hunt alone.

But I wasn't alone!

My eyes snap wide open and my heart hammers. I look around and recognize nothing, warning me that I'm not at home. I bolt upright, clutching a blanket to my naked chest as I struggle to get my bearings.

The moment my feet hit the ground, I feel myself wobble as stars dot my vision. Movement to my left draws my attention, but the sudden turn makes the whole room spin.

"Whoa wait, I don't know if you should be up yet," a blonde-haired male cautions. He approaches with his palms raised, but my hammering heartbeat screams at me to run.

I stagger back against the arm of the couch, scanning the room for a way out. A larger male sits at the kitchen island, barely lit up by the fire. His dark hair blends into the shadows, but his piercing blue eyes feel like they see right through me.

"Gryph, you'd better get in here!" The blonde shouts, making me flinch.

My vision starts to cloud over, and my legs shake. I panic, feeling my body start to fail me and bolt for the front door, crashing into it. With the last of my energy, I throw it wide, thanking whoever may be watching out for me that it isn't locked, but stop dead.

A third man blocks my way. His brown hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and his green gaze locks on me. With his arms full of firewood, he looks surprised to see me.

I stumble back, feeling myself falling with no way to stop it. Bracing for the impact, I close my eyes and fear the worst.

But it doesn't come.

Strong arms lift me up as I shift futilely with the energy of a newborn fawn. I go limp, on the verge of consciousness as the pounding in my head reaches a nearly unbearable level.

"Shhh," the man holding me coos. "You're safe. Please calm down."

Something about his voice is strangely soothing, and I stop fighting. My eyes barely open, refusing to listen to me as my head lulls against his shoulder. He carefully carries me back to the center of the room, but every step feels like I'm being tossed around in a storm on the sea.

"Here, put her down here," the first man says. I feel the warmth from the fireplace as I'm set back down on the couch. I can't hold back my whimper as the back of my head comes into contact with the couch.

"Shit, sorry."

I focus on my breathing, taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly to calm my racing heart. Slowly, the spinning of the room slows down and my other senses start to come back. My eyes flutter open and I'm face to face with the same honey brown eyes I'd seen earlier.

"You're the brown," I croak out. My parched throat protests at its abuse and makes my eyes water.

The black-haired male who was sitting in the kitchen walks over and sets a glass of water down on the table beside me. Instantly I reach for it but pause.

What if they've drugged it?!

As if he can read my mind, the blonde-haired guy walks over with an empty cup and pours a bit of the water out and drinks it, showing me it's safe. "You've got nothing to fear from us. I promise we aren't going to hurt you."

My hand shakes as I take the glass and lift it to my lips. The moment the cold water touches my arid tongue, my resolve crumbles. I down the entire glass and look back for more. He holds out his hand for me to give him the glass and smiles as I give it to him.