Page 16 of Forced Pregnant Mate

I can hear my heart beating in my ears as my body responds to my thoughts. I’m far too aware of her hands on mine.

“You may kiss the bride,” Carson announces.

I don’t hesitate. I step forward, reaching for Lena’s waist. When I pull her against my body, she sighs softly, her eyelids fluttering as she closes her eyes. I bend my head to her sweet red lips and kiss her.

It is the softest, sweetest touch I can manage, gently pressing her mouth with mine. My hands tighten on her waist, and I feel her lean into me as she kisses me back. Arousal crashes through me, making my head swim.

I think every drop of blood in my body just went straight to my cock.

Lena lets go of me, and I reluctantly do the same. We turn towards the crowd, and everyone stands up, clapping as we head down the aisle. Lena keeps her arm linked through mine until we get outside, then carefully untangles herself from me and disappears into the crowd.

I want to chase after her, but all the prominent men from both packs surround me. I’m hurried off to their table to share a strong drink and a cigar while all of them personally give their blessing. I know this is about the top wolves from both clans getting along, so I stay and keep the conversation going. Forming bonds beyond just the wedded couple is the whole point of the marriage.

After a time, the men announce they’ve kept me from my bride for too long. We head back to the main group and find Lena with the women. Gladys suggests we do our wedding dance, and the crowd cheers its approval.

I take Lena gently in my arms and start twirling her around the floor, trying not to hold her too close. She looks over my shoulder, not meeting my eyes.

“Lena, I—”

“Let’s just get this dance over with, shall we?” she mutters. I don’t know what to say to that, so I just shut up and hold her gently until the music stops.

She moves away into the crowd, and my hands and body burn with the lack of her. I’m aching from head to foot, dying to kiss her, to touch her and hold her.

She continues to ignore me throughout the night. Even when she smiles, laughs, and sits next to me to open gifts, I can sense her distance from me. It feels like an icy blade being shoved into my heart.

As the party winds down, I wonder what I should do. Surely, she doesn’t want to go straight to bed with me… but we do have to put on a good show for the pack.

“There you are!” Belle says, appearing at my side. “It’s getting late, so we wanted to tell you there’s a special tent set up for the two of you.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, thank you,” I answer, wondering where my wife is and what her reaction was to this.

“I’ll show you,” Belle takes my arm and we walk over to the other side of the church. Lena is already there with Gladys and Sasha, and I can see the large tent set up not far away.

“Well, thank you,” I say politely. “But if you could give us some privacy—”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” a grating voice cuts through the darkness. I turn towards the tent, seeing Peter standing right next to it.

What is this?

I look towards the women, but Belle, Gladys, and Sasha just wave and start to walk away. Sasha gives me an apologetic look, but she doesn’t say anything.

I turn back towards Peter, glaring at him. He’s grinning at me, a truly maniacal grin that tells me he’s got something planned and neither of us is going to like it.

Chapter 7 - Lena

I knew that not seeing my father at the reception had to be too good to be true. The night was stressful enough without worrying about him as well, and I was grateful he made himself scarce. Kelly made her presence known, sucking up to Jack’s family. She didn’t make any effort to directly bother me, though.

I was grateful for that, too. Until now.

Obviously, they had this surprise cooking for me for quite some time.

He will never miss a chance to hurt me. Ever.

So, when I see Father standing out in front of the very special tent that has been prepared just for us, I know that not seeing him all evening is not the blessing I thought it was. He’s been planning a far worse torture for me.

Jack glares at Father, and all he gets in return is a snarky grin. I know this look. Father gets particularly pleased with himself when he’s planned a perfect trap for someone—usually me.

My heart is starting to pound faster, and my palms are getting sweaty. The shock of seeing him standing there is starting to manifest into full-blown terror.

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