“So you knew me. It doesn’t matter.” I sigh finally, realizing he has worn me down enough to get me talking to him, and I’m no longer sulking in silence and staring listlessly at the ceiling. Instead, I’m lost in a million thoughts and feeling all kinds of sad and depressing things. This is why I never walk down memory lane to see who I used to be. I’m also betraying my willpower and have, at some point, curled up against his chest and pushed one foot between his ankles snugly, cuddling up so easily that I didn’t even know I was doing it. I reverse, moving back a little, screwing my face up at how powerful this bond can be.
Colton narrows his eyes and stares at me for the most prolonged moment, knowing the direction of this conversation is futile and changes nothing. He can’t undo what is done, nor who I am now. Even if he remembers me, liked me, we are where we are, and it’s not important anymore.
“Anyway, why are you here? I thought you were scared of me now.” It’s a half-joke, half-real question because it’s been playing on my mind since the first couple of hours they locked me in this lifeless room to listen to the house being mended and boarded up. It’s also my attempt to bring us back from the intimacy that makes me uncomfortable as I push a little more space between us. I don’t even have a cell phone to keep me occupied as I have no friends, and the orphanage wouldn’t pay for them.
“Hmm. Haha. It’s sort of about that. Why I’m here, I mean. About earlier and your moment of whatever the hell that was.” Colton’s face turns serious, those pretty eyes under black eyebrows that are way too nice turning back to mine, and I can almost hear the gear switch off his brain as he focuses his mind on that topic. All tenderness fades away.
“What about it? You came to tell me they all think I’m a freak and a threat, and I’m getting moved to an isolation tank.” I say it so blankly like there’s no feeling behind it, but honestly, I’ve had this worry in the pit of my stomach on and off for hours.
Isolation tanks dampen gifts and make you unable to do anything much about them. If they think I’m some kind of freak of nature, I can see Juan using that as an excuse to contain me. It would solve the whole imprinting issue and his son being in danger. I would live in a steel box, forgotten in some basement below one of the Santo houses. I could live and rot until I die of old age in there. Problem solved.
“They’re all too busy figuring out what we do about our lands before we’re hit with another attack. This shit is just the beginning, Lorey. All these years were wasted when we should have been preparing and building an army once more. Now they’re calling on packs from the far reaches to consider uniting and mounting an offensive. No, you’re low on the list of things that worry them today. Whereas, I have a theory.” He smiles a little at that, a lightness hitting his expression, the look of smug knowledge spreading into those bottomless, darkest chocolate eyes, and that annoyingly sexy smile widening enough to bring out dimples and showcase lovely teeth.
“Which is?” I sound as unconvinced as I feel, and he smiles all the more, making butterflies erupt low down in my body, and I have to squirm to get them under control. I don’t like the smug, twinkling something in his eye. My instincts start to shift, and suddenly, I feel wariness creeping in at the aura he’s giving off.
“You have an absorption gift. And that’s what you did. You absorbed the power of the weapon they used in the orphanage, and, for a short time, you can throw it out there as your own. It’s not a common gift, and, usually, they don’t come across devices like the one the vampire hit you with. It makes sense. You haven’t learned to contain your power, and you were overwhelmed.” He sounds so convinced, actually pleased at how smart he is for figuring it all out in a logical and almost believable way. I’ve heard of this type of gift among wolves. Well, I heard stories and legends, and, as he said, it’s not common. They absorb and can use other wolves’ gifts, and some they even retain for more than a few days. They turn any enemy’s power back on them, making them almost invincible.
“Except—that weapon you’re talking about—it didn’t break anything. I didn’t turn it to protect me, and it didn’t do any kind of anything outside the house and courtyard. Your father said I sent shock waves for miles.” I raise a brow and then sigh at the fact I just disproved something that could have potentially made me feel better about what happened.
“Maybe you can amplify it, make it more potent. Maybe that’s part of your gift. We could test that out. The weapon dampened your gifts because you haven’t mastered them, and you didn’t even know you could. Don’t you see? If you have a powerful gift, it could change things for us. My father might reconsider your place in our pack. We try to see what you can do.” Colton shifts so he’s no longer as close, but half sits and turns to tower over me, letting the candlelight illuminate his face once more so I can see him fully. He seems almost pleased, but the doubt and uneasiness inside me only grow stronger. I'm picking up on his weird, antsy signals, and my inner red alert is starting to peak, even though I don’t know why. I push it aside and try to ignore it as nothing more than anxiety because of what he’s saying.
“How? If I don’t know how to harness it, what to do, or even how to use it.” I query. Not sure I’m into this, but he looks pretty keen. My head is spinning with what he’s saying, and trying not to dig too deeply into his father changing his mind on anything. Colton’s being stupid, and we both know me having a gift that’s above average isn’t going to change the fact I’m one of the shamed and will never be good enough for an Alpha.
“I can trigger you. Absorb mine, and see how much you can amplify it back at me. If you can, then this is huge, Lorey. It means you have superior power, and we might ... Don’t you see? You might be a Santo yet if you have it in you to become something amazing, a warrior for her people. If my father sees promise in you, then he might reconsider you enough to let you become one of my pack, and then …” He trails off, but I can see where his mind is heading, and it now makes sense why Carmen is not high on his priority list. Colton is looking for a way to claim me as his mate, even after everything he said in the forest. I guess the bond for the past weeks has made him as miserable as I’ve been, and that’s why he can’t stay away from me.
Bittersweet pain riles up in my stomach. It hurts at the same time as making me stupidly emotional. Adoring him for looking for a way for us, not giving up on our bond, but being the realist and shoving hope out like trash.
It sounds ludicrously simple, except for one minor problem. Colton is an Alpha with all the gifts that go with that. He’s aggressive, dominant, strong, fast, and ruthless when he needs to be. Can command with a mental link and get no resistance, can jump at insanely high levels. Colton can scale a house of many floors in just a leap. I can’t even make it over a brick wall without catching on. I’ve no idea how he will expose me to any of that and then make me somehow use it on him. Triggering me might do nothing, or he might maim me in the process without meaning to. I don’t want to do that. I could never hold my own in a battle with him. He would annihilate me even without wanting to or meaning to.
“I wouldn’t even know how to, and you’re making no sense. Your father isn’t going to do a U-turn because I have a rare gift. My name and bloodline are what he despises, not my abilities.” I sit up, pushing myself against the headboard, sliding my butt back until I’m entirely nestled, and gaze down at him.
“Abilities are everything! Don’t be so sure. I’m guessing I have to do something near you or to you, using one of my gifts so that you instinctively defend yourself. That’s how it should work, in theory. Instinct taking over and no room to think.” Colton looks away from me, a small muscle in his jawline clenching that reveals his rarely seen dimples again, and I get a tiny surge of uncertainty. He’s thinking about something, analyzing, worrying, doubting his own decisions, and I blink at him a little apprehensively. I don’t like the vibes he’s giving off. They have all my senses tingling, and now I’m wondering in what way he might make me want to defend myself.
“So, you’re saying that you don’t have any idea either how to do this, right?” I point out, rolling my eyes and playfully shoving him in the shoulder, trying to kill the tension and to get him to drop this stupid direction his thoughts are taking. He’s making me nervous, and I don’t like it.
“Hey, don’t question the man with the brains. Of course, I know what I’m doing, and I have a foolproof, well, almost foolproof, plan. You just need to not hate me after this or kill me because that would be counterproductive.” He may sound like he’s joking with me, but there’s a U-turn in his mood and a seriousness clouding over it that doesn’t reach his smile. A severe tingle of apprehension hits me in the gut as I pick up on an undertone between us. An inkling of something hitting out at me that’s subtly under the surface of his jokey manner and fast smirks. I can’t put my finger on it, but catching him looking me over with a slightly vacant gaze, the tiniest of wrinkles between those brows of his, and the hint of muscle twinge in his jaw, my stomach sinks, and nerves seem to overwhelm me instantly. I tense, and I feel like I shouldn’t trust him for the first time since we bonded.
“Don’t hold back.” He breathes it out and doesn’t give me a chance to respond to that weird command. I frown, mouth opening to say ‘What?’ but he grabs me by my hips, yanks me down the bed, and jumps on top of me in under a second, using hyper-speed and insane reflexes, so I haven’t even time for a breath, or a blink. I yelp with the surprise of the maneuver, winded with his sudden weight on top of me, aggressively heavy, his body fitting snugly against mine in every way, so he’s nose to nose with me, and I can’t move an inch. He’s pinned my hands to the pillows beside my head with his, and my ankles shoved apart by his feet viciously. Stunned and suddenly feeling all kinds of things that conflict and collide, I gawp at him, heart rate pounding up to insane levels, and start to squirm in his harsh grip.
“What are you doing? Colton, get off of me.” I whisper huskily against him, panic flashing that this doesn’t feel right, or like that first time we started to mark, but he has me completely immobile. I’m instantly a little too hot for my liking and pulsing internally, as the bond need for sex boils up inside me instinctively, misinterpreting our body contact. Still, it’s not the same, and it dies when I realize it’s not radiating back at me. He hasn’t even attempted to kiss me, and he’s avoiding looking me in the eye. This isn’t lust-driven and consensual. This isn’t seduction and a willingness to mate with me to seal our bond.
Colton turns off all of his emotions and our link to completely shut me out internally, and I feel it go black almost the second he does, bringing my frenzied fear further to the surface. His face is somber, a wall coming up between us as his eyes glow amber, but not how they should between mates. For a second, I catch a fleeting moment where he seems like he isn’t sure, and I swear there’s a sweep of regret. My internal self-preservation mode tries to reach out and warn me to get out of this now, but it’s too late. I can’t move.
“Forcing your hand. I’m sorry in advance, but we have to try. Don’t hate me for this. I won’t hold back either.” It’s barely above a whisper, and I blanch at him.
“Wha …?” I don’t get the question out because Colton is all over me in a flash. His touch from tight to harsh, his eyes are glowing amber at ridiculous levels of fire and brightness and illuminating between us terrifyingly. Pinning me down, forcing my wrists over my head with one hand, his feet kick my legs apart, and he pulls at my clothes with his free hand. Using his speed and strength to lasso me within his body, he flips me onto my stomach, so I’m almost smothered by the pillows on the bed and lose sight of everything.
He is dominating me horribly, in a way that mates don’t. He’s yanking my clothes down and up to expose my naked body and follows with cruel grabbing and nipping of my skin with his semi elongated teeth. It all happens so fast that, at first, I’m caught frozen, unable to catch a breath and absorb what he’s doing until the overwhelming terror wallops me in the stomach.
I gasp in shock as I try to fight him off, wriggling, bucking, squirming as much as I can, internal panic consuming me as he exposes enough of my body to make it clear what he’s going to do to me. My ass upwards, his groin in behind me as he ultimately uncovers my lower body and gives himself access to take me from behind.
Stop it! What are you doing? Let me go. Colton, you’re hurting me. You’re scaring me. Please don’t, not like this! Colton, please!!
I wail and beg, sobs and tears adding to the suffocation as I turn my head from side to side to be able to breathe. I can’t get loose at all. My mind is manic, but it’s like bouncing words off a brick wall because he’s closed the link and is trying his hardest to keep me shut out. He pushes a hand on the back of my head and forces my face down, back into the pillows to quieten me and keep me submissive as he yanks his clothes off, binding me still with sheer strength and keeping me imprisoned in the position he wants as he gets naked. He’s gone inside himself, locking down with determination, and suddenly I don’t feel like I know him. Our bond is momentarily meaningless, and what he intends to do will forever change what we are.
Colton turns increasingly hostile, as though sensing my fear goads him on, using aggression and brute force to apply pressure and pain on me like he wants to push me into turning more than he’s doing already. Somewhere in the back of my brain, sense and logic are trying to claw something back to the forefront, but I’m too lost in hysteria to think straight.
His commanding strength, which is easily overpowering me, is enough to keep me this way. His entire mood and manner are changing, his body bristles as he half turns to beast, and I feel it oozing from him as smooth skin furs up around me. Stupidly, I wonder if it’s even allowed to rape a femme in human form while turned into a wolf. Surely that kind of damage will kill me. I don’t think sex between the two is allowed even consensually, given wolves are four times a human in size, and I’m sure that goes for genitals, too. His lack of concern for how much he’s hurting me tells me I’m his prey, and he isn’t going to stop for anything and doesn’t seem to care that I’m human and not willing at all.
I struggle again, sobbing crazily, gasping painfully, heart pounding erratically, hating how useless I am against this. Still, he rips my top open and sinks his head instantly, letting his teeth extend as he brutally drags them across my spine, leaving extreme pain and blood in his wake. I wail in agony, writhing under him as I try to close my legs, but he wedges a knee between them to force me to stay open.
My skin stings and burns as fabric rips across my shoulders, and he drags what’s left of my coverings off, burning and marking me with the assault of their removal. His claws rake over my body as they make their way over my ass, my thigh, roughly scraping my skin as he circles under and heads for my core with undeniable intent.
“No, no, NOOO!!!” I scream so loud, my voice cracks, and my throat burns in searing agony. He has me held taut, stretched out, and fully accessible to do whatever he wants to do to me. Imprinted or not—destined mates or not—it always has to be consensual, and no matter how hot you are for your chosen, force is never an option.
It’s a cardinal sin to take your mate without her saying so or her willingness. Femmes are treasured by their dominant. Respected and cared for. Rape is a crime in our lands that could get him hung. Only the scum and outcasts would do such an awful thing, even to my kind.
I can’t believe Colton would rape me. I can’t believe I’m bonded to someone who could do this to me. Or why? This isn’t him; this isn’t who I felt him to be when we imprinted. My head is trying to make sense of this, something nagging in the depths, but terror takes over, and logic dies a death.
I buck and close my eyes as his claws inch between my legs, getting closer to defiling me and taking what is no longer his to take from me. Twisting and turning my body in useless defense and trying to push him from between my thighs, to no avail. Trying to bite, even though my face is crushed to the soft plushness of the pillows, aware my teeth are extending, he has my head all but wedged between my arms, unable to get free.
His voice ricochets inside my head painfully, making my brain shudder as he reopens the link suddenly. Instantly assaulting my senses with the extreme loudness of his booming tone, his dominant gift, to control me further, I know I’m completely powerless against him.
STOP FIGHTING ME, AND LET ME TAKE YOU. I WANT WHAT'S MINE!
Like before, I momentarily lose my body and voice, outraged, hating him with every ounce of my soul, clawing back with a need to save myself from what he intends to do, but it sparks something inside me. That sudden surge of anger, rage, and power, fighting him with everything I have, to break free and defy him for thinking he could do this to me.
I’m not a possession or an object. I’m not trash to be used as he pleases and commanded with his will. I’m a heart and soul and a body that deserves to be treated as any other. I am NOT nothing! I’m a Whyte, and once upon a time, our kind was respected, loved, and accepted. He can’t reject me then think I’m his to abuse or ruin for any other mate. I’m worthy, and HE is NOT!
HOW DARE HE THINK HE CAN BRUTALISE ME THIS WAY!
I combust, like an inner mind implosion all over again, but everything goes black this time, as my brain gives out completely.