Hey!

Here's the next chapter! And, if you didn't notice, I changed the cover of my story! Oh, and I found somebody to play 'Hulk'----> Yeah! I'm sorry if this is rushed or if there are any mistakes. I've never written a chapter so fast in my life! I just wanted to get one more chapter out there before school started! I hope you guys enjoy! Tell me what you think! :D

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Edited: 12/27/14

I groaned as my eyes fluttered open to the sunlight streaming in through the nearest window, stretching across the sheets. I heard the faint sound of chirping birds from outside - God, I hate morning birds. There was an oak tree right outside my window that various birds rested in and chirped as they ruffled their feathers for another long day. Except, I wasn't at home; it took me a few minutes to realize that the tacky furniture, silky sheets, and blue walls weren't mine. This room wasn't my bedroom and the bed that I was currently lying in, which was undoubtedly comfortable, wasn't mine. I dragged my hand down my face, slowly waking up and feeling the ache throughout my body. I was hurting from my failed attempts to escape and my thigh was stiff from my stitches.

Wondering about the time, I stretched my hands across the mattress and rested them near my chest, before trying to hoist myself into a sitting position. But, I couldn't - my chest didn't leave the mattress, almost as if something was holding me down. What the hell? I thought, frowning in confusion until a loud snore came from behind me, causing my whole body to freeze. Fuck. Gritting my teeth together, I peered over the side of the bed at the floor where a lumpy pillow rested, along with an ugly quilt - but no Drew. I'm going to kill him. I attempted to hoist myself into a sitting position once again by pushing on the mattress, but I couldn't. Releasing a grunt of frustration, I looked down at the lower half of my body, instantly realizing why I couldn't sit upright. I was being pinned to the bed by a familiar tan arm - an arm that squeezed my waist tighter and dragged me closer to a warm body that sent sparks shooting through me.

When I felt his 'little buddy' against my butt cheek, I scowled and looked over my shoulder. There, pressed against my backside with his face buried in my hair splayed out on the pillow, was him. The guy that I wanted to murder in his sleep.

Drew.

His mouth was hanging open and I was relieved that he wasn't drooling on my hair. Another snore came from him, right near my ear. I took a deep breath; he was supposed to be sleeping on the floor. That was the sleeping arrangement, yet there he was, bravely snuggling against me with his 'little buddy' poking me in the butt.

I was being butt-raped.

Clenching my hand into a fist, I turned slightly in his hold on my waist and swung my fist down onto his chest. The mate-pull appeared as he jolted awake, gasping for air. His eyes flew open, filled with surprise and pain. His hold on my waist loosened and I grabbed his arm, throwing it away in disgust. I jerked upright with a wince and scooted away, glaring at him as he frantically searched around, almost as if he was expecting an intruder. When he only discovered me, he brushed his tousled hair out of his eyes and frowned. "You punched me!"

"No shit!" I shouted, untangling my legs from the sheets. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! You're supposed to be sleeping on the floor! What are you doing in my bed?!"

"It's my bed, sweetheart," he grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. "And, the floor was uncomfortable - I couldn't go to sleep."

I shook my head. "That doesn't mean you come up here and make yourself at home, dipshit!"

He tossed his hands into the air, exasperated. "This is my home!"

With a grunt, I punched his leg underneath the sheets and he yelped, scooting away from me. Only he ended up toppling backwards off the bed, dragging the sheets with him. He smacked against the floor and a small smirk came across my face - it was his fault. He groaned and rolled around on the floor until he sat upright, rubbing his forehead. "Are you serious? I've been nothing, but nice to you - I let you sleep in my bed! You could show a little appreciation."

"Really?" I countered, harshly. "You're keeping me held captive."

"You're looking at this the wrong way."

"There is no good way," I told him, watching as he clambered to his feet. "You're keeping me from seeing my family."

He rolled his eyes. "It could be worse." Angrily, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rose to my feet, careful with my injuries. "I could have you locked away in the basement, starving."

"Or, I could kill you," I responded, nearly rambling. "You're keeping a hunter captive who comes from a family of hunters. Do you not see how bad of a picture this is?" I limped around the end of the bed, stopping a few feet away from him. "You're going to get yourself and your pack killed."

"I'll take the risk."

I groaned in frustration. "You're being stupid."

"And, you're being infuriating," he argued, childishly. "Just stop fighting me because you aren't getting anywhere, sweetheart. We're mates, whether you like it or not, and the more you deny it, the stronger the bond is going to become." I pinched my lips together, praying that wasn't true. A part of me believed he was just saying that in order for me to finally accept him. "We're stuck together - for some ridiculous reason, fate decided to put a hunter and an Alpha together. It's not going to disappear, so stop taking it out on me because this isn't my fault. I didn't choose for us to be together."

"Well, it sounds like you don't even want me as your mate," I told him, ignoring the sting in my chest. "So, why don't you let me go?"

An awkward moment of silence passed between us. "I can't let you go." I huffed and rolled my eyes, hating his response. "You're my mate, Nora." His words were quiet and as much as I wanted to argue, I didn't. Everything that I wanted to say was offensive, so the mate-pull was keeping the words locked down inside of me. Several moments passed between us and I folded my arms across my chest, glaring at him. We stood close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne and his natural musky scent from the forest. "You should shower - it'll help with preventing an infection."

His blue eyes flickered towards my thigh and I chewed on my upper lip. I watched with little patience as he turned around and walked over to a dresser, rummaging through the top drawer. He produced a black t-shirt and tossed it through the air where I easily caught it. I frowned, holding the item of clothing between two fingers. "I'm not wearing this."

"Come on, it's clean," he said, frustrated. "Your clothes are filthy; they're covered in dirt and blood."

I glanced down at my clothes, realizing he was right. I grabbed the sleeves and stretched them out, placing the shirt against my body - the rim of the t-shirt dangled above my knees. "It's huge."

"Then, you won't have to wear pants," he responded, a small smirk on his face. Knowing he was thinking of something inappropriate, I turned around and limped into the bathroom, grumbling. I took a deep breath and flicked on the lights, throwing the shirt onto the counter of the sink. I closed the door behind me and grabbed handfuls of my hair, breathing heavily. Great, I thought, sarcastically. Kill me. I staggered over to the shower and turned it on, before facing the mirror above the sink as I waited for the water to warm.

I barely recognized the girl in the mirror.

Her striking green eyes were cold, gazing back at me in anger and sadness. The freckles scattering her cheeks were beginning to fade from the lack of sun and the small tan she had managed to receive was gone. Her skin was now white as snow, almost translucent. If she didn't inherit her mother's red hair and the curse of being fair-skinned, people would've thought she was ill or sick. Her hair was a huge mess from sleep with tangles at the scalp. "I look terrible," I muttered, even though I had never been the one who cared about her appearance. Makeup wasn't my best friend and I was comfortable with my hair in a ponytail every day.

With a sigh, I stripped out of my dirty clothes, careful with my injuries. Hesitantly, I took off my bandage on my thigh, lightly touching the jagged stitching. I knew that ugly scars were going to be left behind, but I reminded myself that they were battle scars. Taking my time, I stepped into the warm shower, allowing the water to spray against me. At first, the water stung my injuries, but eventually the pain disappeared. I searched the shower and found a bar of soap. Not caring who had used it, I scrubbed my body, running the soap along my sensitive skin. Whenever the soap drifted across my injuries, I flinched - it's going to clean them. When my hair was completely soaked, I grabbed the bottle of shampoo. I was hoping for some fruity shampoo; instead, there was only Axe shampoo for men. I groaned and squirted some into my hand, taking a quick sniff of it. The shampoo didn't smell too bad; it was very masculine.

Pretending it was Noah's, I started washing my hair, massaging my scalp. There wasn't any conditioner, so when I was finished washing out the shampoo, I turned off the shower. Carefully, I stepped out and rummaged through the cabinet underneath the sink, praying for a towel. Thankfully, two rested inside - I snatched one of the fluffy, white towels and began to dry myself off. I glanced towards his shirt resting on the counter, hesitating. It was that moment when I noticed the recently placed deodorant and perfume. Drew must've sneaked into the bathroom when I was showering - I was going to kill him. Though, at the same time, I was thankful for the women's deodorant.

I dressed myself and applied the berry deodorant, not sparing another glance at the perfume. His shirt smelled of him; to be honest, it was almost intoxicating. The shirt ended above my knees, extremely baggy, and the sleeves covered my elbows. I searched the drawers of the cabinet until I found a black comb. I combed the tangles out of my hair, releasing quiet yelps whenever a chuck was ripped out. And, lastly, I placed the bandage back over my thigh, hiding the ugly stitches. When I was finished, I opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom. My eyes landed on Drew who was sitting at the end of the bed, staring at his hands. When he heard the creak of the door opening, his eyes snapped my direction. "Are you done?"

"Obviously," I muttered, limping towards him. "You sneaked into the bathroom when I was showering."

"I didn't see anything," he defended, shaking his head. "I was out in seconds." I nodded my head, not believing him - he eyed me up and down, a small smirk forming on his face. "You don't look bad in my shirt."

"Just shut up," I said, rolling my eyes.

He chuckled and rose to his feet, stretching his arms out. "You hungry for breakfast?" Hearing my stomach growl, I nodded in response - I hadn't ate anything since I had first arrived. Back at home, I always skipped breakfast, which my father constantly scolded me about, claiming it was the most nutritious meal of the day. The only reason was because I slept in until noon most days, before heading out to the forest or training with my brother. Drew crossed the bedroom and I followed him, before wandering down the hallways that were slowly becoming familiar. I felt bare and uncomfortable in Drew's shirt; I wasn't wearing any pants. When we started descending the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder, making sure I was sticking close. I kept my eyes trained on my surroundings, watching for pack members and even possible escape ideas.

Stepping into the kitchen, the same one where I had stabbed him, I limped over to the granite counters. I flopped down on one of the stools while he started gathering things. "Do pancakes sound good to you?"

I licked my lips. "Yeah."

Pleased, he grabbed a large bowl and gathered the ingredients from the shelves. He looked my direction, almost in hope that I was going to volunteer to help him. Hell no. I didn't bake; I didn't cook. While it was usually a turn-off to men, I didn't care. Ever since I had almost burned down my house by attempting to make macaroni and cheese for my brother and his friends, I had stopped. Across the counter, Drew began stirring the ingredients in the bowl. "So, what should I know about you? Other than you're a hunter?"

I frowned. "There isn't anything to know."

"Come on," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm making you pancakes - the least you could do is tell me a little about yourself."

"Fine, only because I want food," I said, caving into his request. "I have an older brother, I enjoy remixed music, and I have a secret obsession with comic books because they're mostly pictures."

He grinned. "You don't like to read?"

"It's a waste of time to me," I told him, calmly. "I have other priorities."

"And, you have an older brother?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "I have an older brother too. His name is Tyler - he was supposed to become Alpha when my parents died, but he has always lacked responsibility and maturity." I watched as he added some milk, measuring enough. "I decided to take over and he, well, left to continue his immature ways." I felt my wet hair soaking into Drew's shirt, sending chills shooting up and down my spine. "And, I have a younger sister, Laura. She isn't around much anymore. . ." Having no clue what to say, I remained sitting there in silence as he poured the pancakes onto the hot pan on the oven. "What's your brother like?"

"Someone you don't want to mess with."

Drew grabbed the spatula. "Now, I'm eager to meet him."

"Oh, really?" I responded, sarcastically. "I bet you'll be so eager when he kills you."

"I'll save you a seat in Hell, sweetheart," he said, grinning over his shoulder at me. I gaped at him for a moment and closed my mouth, frowning. I couldn't believe him; he was joking about my brother and death. Didn't he understand how dangerous my family was? How far they were going to go for finding me? He flipped the pancakes and exhaled loudly, leaning back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. "I think we're all going to go to Hell."

"Probably," I muttered, shrugging. "But, I'm not scared - death doesn't scare me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll be more disappointed when I die," I responded, shaking my head. "Because, I'll feel like I haven't accomplished everything that I wanted to in life or think about everything I should've done." I started tapping the counter as he stared at me, trying to figure me out. "And, I know that when I'm going to die, I'm going to go out with a bang."

He smirked. "Clearly."

He turned away from me and snatched two plates, scooping the pancakes off the pan. He flopped two on a plate and scooted it towards me, before handing the syrup to me. I drowned my pancakes with the syrup and grabbed one of the forks on the counter. Hungry, I started eating, not bothering to continue the conversation with him. Drew began engulfing his pancakes, remaining leaning against the counter, smart enough not to take a seat next to me. When I was halfway through my breakfast, a familiar person waltzed into the kitchen. His chestnut-colored hair was neatly brushed and his dark brown eyes scanned the kitchen, twinkling from the smile on his face.

Brody.

"Ah, I knew I smelled something good," he said, taking a dramatic whiff of the air. He winked at Drew, before stumbling around the counter to me. He looked at my pancakes and licked his lips, before stupidly reaching towards the fork in my hand.

"Touch my pancakes and you'll pull back a bloody hand," I threatened, narrowing my eyes. Instantly, his eyes widening, he pulled away, cautiously stepping away. I looked towards Drew, surprised to find him grinning at us. I eyed his pack member up and down, frowning at his SpongeBob pajamas and tiger slippers. Brody scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before looking at Drew. "Hey, man, since you're making pancakes, why don't you make your favorite pack member some, huh?"

Drew rolled his eyes. "You can make your own."

I shoved a mouthful of my pancakes into my mouth, feeling my stomach slowly become fuller. While I hated to admit it, Drew's pancakes were amazing. Brody groaned, before saying, "But, the last time I tried cooking myself some food, I almost burnt this place down, remember? You aren't seriously going to make me attempt to make my own pancakes, are you?

Drew shrugged. "They aren't hard to make."

Sticking his bottom lip out, Brody pouted and stomped around me to the stool beside me. I raised an eyebrow as he flopped down, eyeing my pancakes in jealousy. That was when he had noticed that I wasn't wearing my dirty, raggedy clothes, but Drew's large t-shirt. His brown eyes widened, followed by a smirk appearing on his face. "Ah, I understand now. This is the 'after sex breakfast'!"

I sputtered for a moment. "W-what?"

He waved his hand. "Oh, stop playing stupid! I know you guys didn't just sleep last night." My jaw-dropped and I whipped my head around, glaring at Drew. He was staring hard at Brody who was completely oblivious, too focused on speaking. "I mean, I thought I heard some moans last night, but I couldn't tell if they were from someone watching porn or - "

"Nothing happened," I interrupted, harshly.

He looked at me as if I was dumb. "Drop the act already! Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But, if you want what happened last night to remain a secret, I suggest you change into your clothes."

Drew exhaled loudly. "She just took a shower, Brody."

His pack member shook his head and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, an unfamiliar voice filled the room. "What? What are you guys talking about?"

You've got to be kidding me, I thought, turning my head. I found myself looking at the first girl I had seen since I had first arrived. She was around my age, maybe a year or two older, with curled, blonde hair that cascaded down her back and brown eyes, surrounded by thick lashes. Her sun-kissed skin was flawless, which I had envied, despite her being a werewolf. She was wearing a purple tank with loose, Minnie Mouse pajama pants with matching socks.

"Oh, nothing!" Brody sang, winking at me. I scowled at him, fighting the urge to punch him. The girl looked between the three of us, confused.

"Nora, this is Katie," Drew spoke, gesturing towards the girl. Shyly, the girl waved, appearing a little nervous around me. "She's Brody's twin sister and Jay's mate - and Katie, this is Nora, my mate."

"You're Hulk's mate?"

"Jay won't stop complaining about that nickname," the girl, Katie said, an uneasy grin coming across her face. "He's offended."

"Whoops," I mumbled, looking down at my pancakes. I shoved another mouthful of my delicious breakfast into my mouth while I processed everything. Katie and Brody were fraternal twins; they shared the same tan skin, oval faces, and brown eyes. Katie had landed herself being Hulk's mate, the bulky guy who helped abduct me from the gas station; that had to suck. Though, I didn't have any room to judge - I looked towards Drew who was wiping syrup from his chin, awkwardly. I'm stuck with that.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you," Katie blurted, obviously lying. When she didn't receive a response back, she looked towards her brother. "Brody, you're supposed to be cleaning your room."

"Seriously, it isn't that messy," Brody said, shaking his head.

"There is a pizza on the floor," his sister retorted, disgusted. "And, I'm pretty sure those moving, black things aren't olives - they're bugs."

"They're my friends."

Katie glared at him and he exhaled loudly, rising from his stool. "Fine, I'll clean my room." Complaining, he left the kitchen with his sister following closely behind him. This left Drew and I alone in the kitchen, just like before.

He scratched the back of his head. "Welcome to the pack, sweetheart."

And, I threw the last bite of my pancakes at him.