The Young Mate

seventeen

Christal McCade

I turn around as soon as I hear those words. Shawn's sister, Amelia is standing in the door way, her mouth gaping.

"Sweetie oh my god," she walks towards me, hugging me. "Shawn told me through the link to come check on you, he said a fight broke out. I didn't realize..."

"That I was apart of it."

"Yeah...I didn't..." she trails off and pulls away fro me. "Are you okay??"

I gulp and shake my head no.

"What happened?"

"I uh..." I gulp and turn my neck to the side, showing her the bite mark on my throat, blood drying around it already. "The Alpha did that to me," I huff and pull the blanket that's wrapped around my body to the side a little bit to see the scratch mark on my side and then I hold out my hand, it's limp and slightly blue around the wrist.

"It's broken," she says, turning around and starting the bath. She turns and closes the door. "You need to drop the blanket for me right now sweetie".

I drop the blanket and she reaches next to me, turning on the faucet and opening the drawers. She takes out a rag and some rubbing alcohol.

She wets the first rag and starts to slowly wipe away the blood from around my wound on my side, I wince every time she places the rag against the tender skin.

"This next part is going to hurt." She warns me before putting rubbing alcohol on a rag and slowly placing it down on the cut.

I yelp and throw my right hand over my mouth, it's stings really bad. "Fuck!" I growl and stomp my bloody foot, I slightly slip on the bite towel and see the bloody foot prints on the bathroom floor as I look down now.

"Is Shawn okay?" I ask but she's quiet.

"Is shawn okay Amelia??"

She bites her lip and stands up. "I don't know," she answers truthfully, "I honestly don't know. He isn't answering me anymore."

I begin to shake and my eyes begin to well up. He's not dead. I know he isn't. He's he strongest Alpha in the America's! He can't be dead. He isn't dead! Just distracted, that's all. He just can't answer her right now.

Christal starts to work on the bite mark on my neck now, doing the same process by wiping it with a wet rag and then the rubbing alcohol. It hurt worse this time because it was on my neck, I'm more sensitive on my neck.

Then she places me in the bath and leaves the bathroom to go check up in the pack house to see if anyone's heard anything.

"Everything is okay." I tell myself, taking a deep breath while I sink down sorely into the tub. "Shawn is okay."

Two Hours later

I pace around our house. A few chairs are thrown across the room and broke. Shawn isn't home yet. Amelia hasn't come back and I'm here, in Shawn's shirt and my leggings, pacing around our house with two chairs destroyed, the couch flipped and a lap shattered on the ground.

I scream and throw a glass against the wall. A painting falls of the wall and the glass from that shatters on the ground too.

My hand is slowly feeling better, it must not of been completely broken, just a hairline fracture like I got last year on the same hand. It healed up completely in two days.

I scream again and fall down onto the ground, my long wet black hair falling into my face. I stayed in the bath for almost and hour and a half, then the water got cold.

I stand up again and go to the kitchen cupboards and take out food. Nutella, Vanilla Wafers, Dill Pickle chips, regular chips, Cheese-Itz and then I open the fridge and get out dip and milk.

I sit on the only unbroken island chair and comfort eat, it doesn't help much. I eat and eat and eat until I feel like I'm going to throw up, the I stand up and start to throw another fit.

"Christal!?? Baby?!!!" I hear Shawn's frantic voice and I instantly stop my screaming and crying to see him run into the house, only boxers on and blood covering his chest.

He runs to me and I run to him, our body's slam together and I start to cry into his chest, his arms are pulled around my small body, crushing it into his large chest. His hand is on the back of my head and I squeeze my arms as tight as I can around him.

"You're okay?!" I sob into his bare, bloody chest.

"Yes yes, are you???"

I nod and hug him tighter, we sway back and forth on our feet, both of us breathing harder then I think I ever have and he ever has.

"I was so scared," I admit and cry harder.

"I was too, I was too baby. I couldn't stand the thought that you could be severely hurt." He hugs me even tighter if it's possible and makes a relieved sound. "I couldn't lose you baby."