My spine straightens and my ears itch, wanting to perk up like they would if I was a wolf, as I realize that someone is behind me. Someone living, that is. The already hungry ghouls are becoming frenzied, their slavering howls filling the air.

When I took this job, I hadn't known how long it was since they'd eaten. I assumed that the inhabitants of the city had had issues with them and they would be sluggish. Perhaps I shouldn't have assumed, but I needed the money either way.

I whirl. It's a woman, and she's clearly shocked about where she is. But I'll deal with that later. For now, I have to keep her safe. While I may not know who she is, I'm a knight who makes his living by hiring myself out to save people and rid them of the enemies and monsters that plague them. Letting someone die on my watch is hardly prudent.

Besides, I'd never let someone get hurt because they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The pack mentality that comes from being a wolf makes me protective, even though I don't currently have a pack.

So I grab her arm, pulling her closer, trying to shield her with my body. "Stay behind me," I order, my voice hoarse.

I swing my sword in an arc and knock several of the ghouls back. Thankfully, they're fragile and therefore easy to kill, but there are just too damn many of them. Another fact that was omitted from the request to clear them.

They're approaching us from all sides, and I need to draw their attention away from her and onto me. I scrape my sword against the metal studs decorating my leather armor, hoping the screeching will anger them, then roar, "Come and get me!"

Some of them redirect and lumber towards me, but not all of them. I'm trying to think of how I can take them out the fastest without her getting hurt when she turns her head and says, "Please don't turn me in before hearing what I have to say."

I blink, not sure what she means. Then the bodies of the ghouls I already killed rise from the bog and throw themselves at the ones still attacking us. At the same time, a gout of fire erupts from one of her palms, roasting the ghouls still lurching towards her.

I wrinkle my nose while the smell of burning flesh assaults it as I shift and lower my stance, ready to engage the remaining ghouls as they shuffle in my direction. At least now I know what she meant. She's a mage, and magic is illegal. Plus, she's a necromancer, which is the most reviled magic of all.

I couldn't care less, though. I would have been in serious trouble if she hadn't shown up.

I push forward and fell the rest of the ghouls. It's easy since they're distracted. The ones she raised fall dormant once the threat is gone.

I take a deep breath and drag the back of my hand over my forehead, wiping away the sweat that's formed there. When she sees me do that, she relaxes and sighs.

"Well," she observes, "that wasn't so bad."

As if on cue, a rumbling noise shakes the ground. She stumbles slightly and I reach out to steady her, grimacing.

She gazes at me sheepishly. "I guess I shouldn't have said that."

I shake my head. "These people were not forthcoming at all," I mutter, turning to face the source of the sound.

It's coming from a partially collapsed crypt on a small, sagging hillock nearby. The rumbling grows louder as the door, which was already hanging precariously by one hinge, explodes outward and a skeleton clad in rotting black robes floats out, its eyes glowing an eerie red. Even though it doesn't have pupils, I can feel it when those eyes lock on us.

"Fuck," I growl. "It's a wight."

"I've read about them, but I've never seen one," she whispers in awe.

"They're exceedingly hard to kill," I explain quickly, twirling my sword in my hand.

Even for a werewolf like me. I'm fast and strong and regenerate faster than any human, but that doesn't mean there aren't creatures that can get the better of me, and a wight is one of them.

"You need to run," I tell her. "If it kills me, you won't be able to escape."

"I'm not going to leave you here with it," she retorts.

Its shriek grows louder as it comes towards us, its pace terrifying in its slowness. It lifts one hand and points a skeletal finger at us, it's head tilting back, the skull's mouth open grotesquely wide.

"Run," I repeat through gritted teeth, pointing my sword and getting ready to throw myself at the wight.

Then it stops.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. She still hasn't run, so I turn to look at her. Her mouth is set in a thin line, and she's shaking with effort. I hesitate once more as I realize that she's holding the wight in place. I have to admit that I'm impressed.

She trembles and her eyes flick to me. "I can't hold it for long," she warns me.

That's the only instruction I need. I stride forward and swing at the wight's neck. It takes a few strikes to disconnect it from the body, but once I do, the light in the eye sockets goes out and the bones clatter to the ground, inert.

I sheathe my sword and face the woman. Her arms are hanging at her sides like they're made of lead, and she's pale.

"Who are you and why are you here?" I ask softly.

I can't help being curious, especially considering the circumstances.

"I was looking for you," she reveals.

Then her eyes close and her knees crumple. I dart forward and catch her before she can fall, reaching up to cradle her head as her chin tips back.

Her dark brown hair is soft, and her curves are warm and supple as I hold her against me. I inhale deeply, curious about what she smells like.

The scent of lavender swirls around me, mixed with a slight hint of mint. It's already intoxicating, but as she fills my nose, I realize there are other notes underneath. Ash, I assume for her fire magic, and lilies, which have to be a reference to her necromancy, though I would have expected something darker and more foul.

Then I detect something else. I can't describe it, because it's unique to her and me, and no one else who smelled it, even another werewolf, would understand, though they would respect what it meant.

Whoever this woman is, she's my mate.