Page 18 of The Alpha's Forced Bride

“We could.”

Her eyes cleared up enough to focus on me. “Do you want me or not?”

I chuckled as I reluctantly pulled away from her. “It’s not that.”

My cock throbbed and begged me to just bury myself in her sweet heat. I stood up and did my best to calm my erection back to at least a partial mast. I reached down for her, hoisting her from the ground and planting her on her feet in a swift motion. She was about five inches shorter than me, short enough that I had to look down at her to look into her eyes.

“Don't you want me?”

I sighed. “Not right now.”

I reached for her cheek, but she pushed my hand away, anger creasing her brow and causing her nostrils to flare. “That’s not how it seemed a second ago.”

“You didn’t want me either.”

“I did want you, I just—”

I raised my eyebrows. “You just?”

She groaned with frustration. “Never mind.”

Her black hair was a mess, tossed around her shoulders and filled with leaves, inviting me to reach for them and take them out. But she wouldn't allow it.

She scrubbed her fingers through her hair and turned around to march right back to where we had run from. I couldn't stop admiring her gorgeous body as she walked away, the roundness of her hips and ass, the way that they fit perfectly with the rest of her hourglass figure. I felt like I needed to postpone the ritual while also rushing toward it at the same time. But maybe we needed to get to know each other first.

I had so many questions. I needed to know why she didn't fight me when she could have.

Chapter 8 - Kiara

Well, that was a spectacular failure.

I tried to make a run for it, and I just couldn't follow through. What was wrong with me? Maybe getting knocked out and dragged into a basement took a toll on my energy, or maybe this pack had some kind of magical circle surrounding their territory that disoriented people.

Or maybe I was just a failure.

It really could have been anything, and two days later, I was kicking myself in Harvey’s cabin, exhausted from lack of sleep. That crummy cot in the basement cage wasn't letting me get any rest. I was wearing borrowed clothes: a pair of baggy jogging pants and an oversized T-shirt that belonged to Harvey.

I knew he had worn it recently because it smelled like him. Bergamot. It was such a distinct scent, so musky and earthy. The way it drifted into my nose and reminded me that he was nearby made me feel like I wasn’t in control of any of my faculties. Though the clothes were relatively comfortable, I could tell that they were old. The fabric was thin and worn in many places, and there were places where the fabric broke open, torn from being overused and stretched to its limit.

Rapid footsteps echoed above my head. Harvey usually slept during the day. I could tell by the way the cabin sounded whenever he walked across the floor to go to his bedroom. This afternoon, though, he'd barely gotten a wink. Even if he had gotten some sleep, I wouldn't have noticed much since I had been nodding off all day. I was trying to keep myself awake to keep an eye on things and figure out how in the world I was going to attempt another escape. But I wasn't sure I wanted to experience that failure again. Harvey hadn't said much when we went back to the cabin. No mention of running, no mention of kissing, and no mention of his hard boner pressed to my inner thigh.

I shuddered. Stop torturing yourself.

Among the many reasons I couldn’t rest was because my mind kept creating new scenarios where Harvey and I ended up naked. Too many fantasies were luring me into the same trap he was trying to set. Maybe it was his demon doing that.

Or maybe it was just my cock-desperate body.

After trying to run, I just felt terrible. Like I wouldn't be able to get anything done. He didn't jab or tease me. He didn't taunt me when we got back. I thought maybe he would try to put me in my place or grab me again with the same feverish longing as when he kissed me but… He simply locked me in the cage and left me down here.

I sighed. I’m never getting out of here.

***

After a day of sulking to myself, he came to collect me. I was sitting in his living room with my knees pulled up to my chest and my feet wrapped in big fuzzy black socks with white lint all over them. My nails were chipped, my skin looked kind of pasty, and I still suspected that perhaps one—or all—of the demons were working through the rest of the pack to make them seem like nice people.

Maybe that wasn’t true, or this was all an illusion. I had no idea.

What I did know was that every time I glanced at Harvey, he seemed lost in thought. He was squinting at the fireplace, hunched over a notebook with a pen, scribbling little symbols and things that I didn't recognize. They looked arcane, maybe even magical, but I didn’t recognize them. Neither of us had spoken since he brought me up here this morning. He sat me on the couch across from his desk, took a seat behind it, and then simply scribbled. I could see some of it from here because of the short distance between us, as the cabin wasn't very big. But I couldn't understand why he was doing it.

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