Finding Home

Chapter Twenty Three-Nathan

Nathan was walking through the pack house when he caught the scent of his mate. It was her usual jasmine, pine, and wood smoke but there was a spicy element to it. It stung his nose a little. It took him a moment to place it. It was her anger. More than her anger it was her rage. He had only scented her rage a couple of time since he'd known her. Each time he'd seen it, it had terrified him a little. Once it was directed at him and he actually feared for his life.

He followed her scent and found Paige in the gym. She was wailing on a punching bag so hard he thought it might break. Punching bags in werewolf gyms were weighted much heavier than human gyms. All of the bags in the pack house gym were well over 175 pounds. The bag Paige was using was almost one a a half times her weight and she was moving it.

He stood watching her for a moment in awe. She danced around the bag, her movements clean and precise and packed with power. With each kick and punch she landed she let out a grunt of frustration. He found her terrifyingly beautiful. When she landed a particularly powerful punch the bag swung off the hook and she let out a scream of pain. He stepped inside the gym and choked on the scent of her rage. She stood seething with anger. He thought that her scream was physical pain but standing in here now he could see it was emotional. He wanted to run to his mate and comfort her. He wanted to take away her pain and hurt the person who had caused it. But he knew better than to sneak up on someone when they were like this.

"Paige?" he said hesitantly. She whirled around to face her him, chest heaving as she breathed deep. "You alright?"

"Do I look alright?"

"You look like you need a better opponent. That bag doesn't look like it'll last much longer."

"Who would fight me?" She huffed a laugh in derision. "The lowly human offspring of my fathers whore." Her fathers whore? He wondered. He had never heard her called that before, but then again, he didn't know much of her old pack.

"I'll fight you." She laughed again.

"No, I don't think so. That's not a good idea."

"Why not?" He started to take off his jacket. He hadn't changed out of his training clothes yet, he had been leaving breakfast when he caught her scent. "You sacred or something?" He smirked at her. He knew she hadn't fully worked out her frustration yet and wanted to help her. He'd prefer to do it by holding her but if she needed to beat on something he would give that to her too. He wanted to give her anything and everything.

"It wouldn't look good."

"Wouldn't look good for who?" He took off his shoes and socks. You only fought barefoot on the mats.

"You, me," she paused, he waited. Her face contorted in rage, "My father." The sharp scent of her rage spiked again. Nathan had to hold back a cough. He mind-linked Allen and Patrick. "Cancel my morning meetings and keep everyone away from the gym."

"All you had were the doctors and Paige. Is everything alright?" Allen linked back.

"The new training class is supposed to be in the gym in an hour." Patrick linked.

"Keep them away. I don't want to be disturbed." He used his no-nonsense tone. It was the one he used when he didn't want to be questioned. Patrick and Allen were his best friends, but sometimes they were too nosey for their own good. He got back a 'Yes, sir" from both and he cut the mind link.

"It's a good thing there's no one here to see anything then." Giving her the smirk he knew she hated. He was trying to goad her anger back out. She needed to release it.

"But there will be soon." She insisted.

"I've taken care of it."

"Nathan-"