Midnight Pleasure [THE PLEASURE SERIES BOOK 1]

Chapter Forty-Four - Drystan

Drystan needed to find out where he was. Everything around him was dark. He couldn't see anything around him. Bending down, he tried to feel the ground but felt nothing. Worry moved through his body when he realized Melora wasn't beside him. When had he woken up?

"Melora?" he called out for her. He moved his feet, hoping to get out of the pitch black. His head swiveled around, trying to find his mate. His heart started to beat rapidly. Where was he?

"Drystan," Melora's voice called out through the darkness.

Drystan turned toward her voice to find her naked body standing a few feet before him. "Melora," he breathed out in relief. He began to move his feet towards her while stretching his arm out when he noticed something was wrong. Melora was covered entirely with blood. Any other time, he would have been attracted to this sight of her, but the look in her eyes was enough to make him stop in his tracks. "Melora," he couldn't help the shakiness in his voice. "What's wrong." He forced himself to move closer to her.

"Wake up, Drystan," her voice was monotoned as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

Drystan tried to reach out and touch her arm, but he couldn't. "What did you say?"

"Wake. Up. Drystan." Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as blood began to flow down her face. "Before it's too late."

"What-"

"Wake up!"

Drystan sat up in the small tent, hand clutching his chest. He looked to his right and sighed with relief when he saw Melora sleeping beside him. He took a deep breath and lay beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He took a deep breath, taking in her scent. Her scent reminded him that she was real. This was real right now. Drystan ran the tip of his nose over the side of her neck when his body went stiff.

Drystan raised his head and strained his ears to listen for whatever alerted his body. He gently shook Melora awake, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could ask him the question forming on her lips. He held a finger to his lips, asking her to be quiet. He slowly moved to his feet and through the tent opening. His eyes searched the small, dark clearing, meeting a pair of red eyes a few feet away.

Draco's eyes blinked twice, signaling him of immediate danger. Drystan moved quickly to get Melora up and the tent down. He grabbed their horse's reins and pushed Melora up into the saddle. He made sure he was as quiet as he could be as he swung his leg up and sat behind her.

Drystan, Melora's shaky voice moved through his head. She leaned back against him.

Drystan clicked the reins and felt the horse move forward. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her temple. His eyes never stopped searching the forest around them. Dante and Draco were riding right behind them, watching their backs. Something's wrong, he finally answered her. He hated that their rest was interrupted. None of them wanted to be traveling at night when Alathic's troops were awake. It was too dangerous. Maybe they made the mistake of stopping in a clearing instead of just traveling through until they found another place to hide and rest.

Is it Alathic? Melora asked him.

Drystan's body bristled at his father's name coming from her. His woman. She should have never known his name. She should have never met him. This was all his fault, indeed. If he had only succeeded when he had first met his father and killed him, his woman wouldn't be in danger. She wouldn't have the nightmares that haunt her.

I don't have nightmares, she grumbled as she wiggled closer to him.

Drystan's head moved to the right, scanning the trees. Don't hide from me, Melora. I know you have nightmares, my love. Remember, I feel your pain, even in sleep.

They're not that bad, Drystan.

Melora, Drystan growled lowly. Please don't lie to me. His head swiveled to the left, hearing a deep growl from the tree line. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dante's head swivel to the left. Drystan encouraged the horse to move faster. He didn't know if there was anywhere close for them to hide. He didn't want to put Melora in danger.

Drystan cursed as a werewolf jumped out of the bushes, barely missing the horse's leg by an inch. The horse reared, throwing them both off its back and onto the ground. Drystan wrapped his arm around Melora's waist and pushed her behind him. He took a dagger from its sheath, pointing it at the werewolf snarling at them. Stay behind me, Melora, Drystan growled.

Drystan, her voice whimpered in his head, causing another growl to fall out of his mouth. There's more. Melora sent an image of two more werewolves in front of her, stalking toward them.

The werewolf in front of Drystan snarled at him before lunging forward. Drystan caught its throat with his left hand and slammed it on the ground. The werewolf growled and tore at his arm as Drystan plunged the dagger into its chest. The skin around the knife began to burn as an unnatural scream came from the mouth of the werewolf. Once the screaming stopped, Drystan yanked the dagger out of its chest. He felt the fear of his mate before he had the chance to turn around. When he did, a rock formed in the pit of his stomach. Melora was standing an arm's length away from him, fangs and claws bloody. Her eyes met his, and his heart sunk as he saw the fear and tears in her eyes.

"Melora," he started to reach for her when the grunts of Dante and Draco distracted them both. Drystan turned toward the noises to see them both surrounded by five werewolves. Drystan didn't get the chance to get a good look at the werewolf that had attacked them, but now he saw a large 'A' burned into their backs. He knew these weren't rogue werewolves; they were working for Alathic. He glanced over at Melora, ensuring she was safe before running toward the brothers. He stabbed his dagger through the side of the closest werewolf, watching it scream and burn.

Drystan didn't sense that Melora had come up behind him. Inwardly, he was startled at her reaching around the neck of the werewolf he had stabbed and drawing her nails across its jugular. Dark blood pooled from the werewolf's throat, and its scream was silenced. Drystan took the dagger out of its side and looked at his mate. Her eyes, which had tears in them, were red with rage. They met him briefly before she turned to the next closest werewolf. Dante and Draco had already taken care of the other three werewolves. Dante moved toward the one Melora was moving toward and ripped its head clean off.

Drystan didn't know how long they would be to be safe, but they were now. His only concern was his mate. His mate was now covered in their enemy's blood.