The Jaguar’s Arranged Mate

Chapter 11

Beric struggled to restrain Miera. She was trying so hard to get back inside the warehouse, seemingly unaware of the amount of blood she was losing. She was changing between forms, and if she wasn’t careful, the were-jaguars they had saved would discover her pregnancy.

Although that was the least of their concerns right now.

Two female were-jaguars pushed their way to the front and took Miera from him. He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. She had to be removed before she killed herself, and he had to stay here and see her plan to completion.

First, he had to usher the were-jaguars back. It wouldn’t do for them to have been moved to safety—thank God there seemed to be no Brutal Claws outside, running amok through the compound—only for them to be caught up too close to the warehouse when it would be destroyed.

It took longer than he would have wished, considering a great number of the were-jaguars were too injured to be able to move under their own power, but eventually, he and the others were able to help them.

That settled, Beric rushed over to the barracks. Constantly shifting back and forth between forms—it had been easier to drag and carry his people in human form but running was better suited in jaguar—was taking a toll on his already weakened body. Miera’s wounds were much more grievous than his, but his were not something he could overlook for much longer. Not one of his own had he bandaged, and with each time he changed form, he could feel the wounds reopen.

The forge burned day and night. Beric and the Teal Warriors used guns, but they also made sure they had plenty of blades on hand as well, and they had upped their production once the Brutal Claws came sniffing around.

Back to human form, Beric—careful to keep his nakedness as far from the fire as he could—managed to collect some of the fire from the forge into a bucket and dashed outside. Before he could change form, he saw a line of were-jaguars. They knew what was going on. They were accepting his lead without question.

Which made him wonder just where his father was… but that wasn’t something to worry about at the moment.

He passed the bucket on and retrieved another one. They continued like this, each one hurrying the bucket full of extremely hot fire to the next one, and soon, the warehouse was on fire and burst completely into flames.

Crap. They should have barricaded the doors. The Brutal Claws would just rush out and—

Sam, an older Teal Warrior, one of the fiercest fighters ever, so Beric wasn’t surprised to see him alive, approached. “None of them will be surviving that.” He gave a smug nod, almost smiling. And Sam wasn’t one to smile.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Boarded it up myself. Every door and window. Soon as I smelled the first bucket. I don’t think any of those stupid, mangy Brutal Claws even recognized the odor. All they know is death and their twisted sense of glory and inflated self-worth.” He spat, his face twisting with disgust.

“Good. That’s good.” Beric’s chest ached, and he glanced down. He didn’t have a major wound there. The pain was internal. He hadn’t liked condemning their fighters any more than Miera had, but their sacrifice had been worthwhile. It had saved so many.

“They understood.” Sam nodded knowingly, his features solemn.

“Are you sure?”

Sam stared at him, unblinking. “This is war. There will be casualties.”

The fire burned for hours. The choice of wedding locale at the warehouse was inspired, as the warehouse was set apart from all of the other buildings, so there was no risk of the fire spreading. Beric watched the flames, mesmerized. Dimly, he realized he was on the ground, sitting. At some point, someone had bandaged his wounds, and a pile of clothes sat at his feet. He didn’t move to change until the black plume turned white. The fire was dying.

A part of him had died with each were-jaguar they had lost.

But he couldn’t stay here, being depressed and worthless. His injuries were healing, maybe a little slower than they should be. Food would help. Rest definitely. There would be time for that… maybe.

The hospital was overflowing with patients, and Beric winced as he walked inside. Maybe it would be better to have the injured treated elsewhere. The hospital would be any easy target for the Brutal Claws. They would be despicable enough to attack the already injured.

Maybe he should check on the fence and the gates to see how they got in, but he had to show everyone he had survived, to try and bolster their spirits. The wedding should have been a joyous occasion. Instead, it had turned into a bloodbath. And seeing that the two packs hadn’t worked together during the battle meant his own spirits needed to be bolstered, too.

Every were-jaguar he smiled or spoke with on the first floor were all Teal Warriors. The same on the second. When he reached the third and top floor and had yet to see a single Blood Rose, he couldn’t help feeling concerned.

A nurse rushed by, and he tapped her arm. “Excuse me…”

“Beric. Yes.” She dipped her head in deference.

Something tightened in his chest to the point where he couldn’t breathe. Her reaction was to that of an alpha, but he wasn’t her leader yet, right?

He had planned on asking about the Blood Roses, but instead he blurted out, “My father…”

“I haven’t seen him.”

“So he isn’t anywhere inside the hospital?” That pile of dead bodies…

“We’re a little disorganized. We’re trying to get a list of casualties and those here seeking treatment and—”

“Seeking treatment? You mean to say no Blood Roses were injured enough to seek treatment?” His voice echoed down the hall, much louder than the groans slithering out from some of the nearby patient rooms.