Page 130 of Mated to the Wolves

Swiping at my eyes, I hold my breath to drown the sob trying to escape.

“Yesterday was fucked up and frightening. Admitting it doesn’t make you weak. There are things that still keep me up at night.” He squeezes my shoulder. “You did well.”

I latch onto his praise, using it to combat the negative voices tearing me down. This is a new side of the world I grew up in.

“Let’s go get you started on strength training. Then we’ll feed you and talk strategy.”

Helping me up, he wraps an arm around my shoulder. Guiding us back the way we came, I force myself to examine the place that brought all the inadequacies to the forefront.

Reviewing the area, I see places for enemies to hide where once there was only beauty. Things will never be the same. I’ve already been touched and changed by the violence and evil seeking to rule over me.

Grateful for the mission keeping my mind busy, I study the passing scenery. Cadoc and the others ran drills with me until my body gave out.

Then they fed me a high protein meal, let me soak, and prepare for this mystery visit.

I look at Bo trying to glean information from his stoic face. “Are you going to tell us what we’re walking into?”

“Calista is mercurial. It’s better to experience her firsthand.”

We leave the main road and travel down a winding private path that speaks to wealth.

I lean forward. “Are you being obtuse on purpose?”

“Think highly of yourself, don’t you Princess? Not everything I do is connected to you.”

“Just most,” Fell adds.

I snicker. Bo flashes an irritated look.

“We’re here.”

The large three-story limestone building is a fortress that rises from the ground like a castle from medieval times.

Resting on the edge of a town nearly two hours away it has black iron gates that drip with powerful protective spells.

Bo rolls down the window and presses the metal box.

“You’re early. The new circle you’re running in has been good for you.”

“I thought you said I was worth the wait.”

Bo’s flirty tone sets my teeth on edge.

“Your conceit knows no boundaries. It’s nice to see some things never change.”

“I do love to please you, Cal.”

“Wretched man, don’t call me that. I’m buzzing you in now.”

A beep precedes the slow opening gates. We travel the drive toward a gothic revival mansion with steeply pitched gables that make the roof have sharp angles.

Bo parks and we exit the car.

I fluff the puffy sleeve of my off-white blouse that stops mid-arm and run a hand down the soft material of my khaki overall dress to keep my hands busy. My mouth is dry and my hands shake as I try to prepare myself for the meeting.

The hair stick is a reassuring solid weight, nestled into my simple bun. Climbing the stone stairs, I step closer to Kirk.

On the porch with columns and an elaborate thick wooden door with decorative glass panels, Bo rings the doorbell. Moments later, a sinewy man in his early twenties opens the door.

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