Page 4 of Forced By the Alpha

“Just as cold as you,” I mumbled.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said, loud enough for him to hear me. “So, what’s this story you wanted to tell me?”

“It begins as you might expect. Once upon a time, there was an evil witch, a princess, and a valiant knight.”

I scoffed. “Please, tell me you’re not the knight in this story.”

“But of course I am,” Franco replied. “The knight was bound by a sacred oath to protect his people from the power ofthe evil witch, but the witch’s magic was very strong. It overcame the knight and his people. He searched for years, looking for a way to exact revenge on the witch who had hurt them. One day, he heard of a princess. One who the witch was quite fond of.”

“I’m not a princess,” I pointed out.

“Maybe not, but it works better for my story,” he said nonchalantly. “As I said, the witch was very fond of this princess. With the witch’s weakness discovered, all that remained was for the knight to capture the princess and take her back to his kingdom. She was the key to stopping the witch’s evil from spreading across the land.”

“And who is this ‘evil witch?’” I asked skeptically.

“Tom Mowry.”

My heart dropped. Of all the names he could have spoken, the last one I expected to hear was my father’s.

“You took me to get revenge on my dad?”

Franco nodded, keeping his unwavering gaze on my face.

“My father has made mistakes, but he is a good man,” I said. “You must have gotten your information wrong.”

“I’m not wrong,” Franco argued.

“This doesn’t make any sense. My father would never—”

“Don’t!” Franco shouted, interrupting my defense. He leapt from his chair toward me, placing his hands on either side of my seat. His face was mere inches from mine as he seethed in rage. “You either know nothing about what your father is, or you’re just like him. A witch, and a deceiver.”

My blood boiled at how he’d spat “witch” from his mouth like a bad taste, turned into a perversion by his hate for my kind. He remained close to me, breathing heavily after his outburst. Iknew I was facing one of the cruelest men possible, but I couldn’t bring myself to cower to him. I wasn’t a spoiled princess, no matter what he wanted to believe. I was a warrior.

“I am no deceiver,” I whispered menacingly. “But I am a witch. You would do well to let me go.”

Franco moved his hands quickly from the chair to my arms, grabbing them roughly and forcing me to my feet. “Outside, now,” he spat.

I had no choice but to follow as he dragged me after him. My legs struggled to keep pace with his long strides and quick speed. My long legs, try as I might, weren’t cooperating with my efforts to move faster. Pain coursed through my body from the savages’ attack on me as I followed Franco as best I could.

“Can you slow down?” I asked.

He pushed us through a crowd of men and women, cheering and throwing insults at a spectacle I couldn’t see yet. The sudden onslaught of noise was overwhelming after the quiet of the cabin, and I whipped my head around, taking in the new scene. I stumbled over my feet, and Franco caught me abruptly before I could hit the ground.

“Hurry up,” he snapped.

He pulled me after him once more, and we finally reached a break in the crowd. Everyone was circled around two men who were trading punches.

“Watch this, and maybe you’ll understand,” Franco said.

I did as he commanded. At first, I tried to see what the link was between our conversation and this fight, but after only a few moments, all I could think about was the brutality in front of me. It was clear from the jeers that the smaller of the men was an outsider—a rogue, who had found himself capturedjust as I had been. He had received numerous injuries, but his attacker kept allowing him to heal before advancing once more and pummeling him.

“Why don’t they shift?” I asked.

“Rules of engagement,” Franco replied tersely. “The rogue will be allowed to live if he defeats Sven in human form. If he shifts, the entire pack will kill him.”

I watched in horror as the sickening dance continued. Sven had grasped the rogue’s arm, twisting it in an unnatural direction. A loud snap reverberated from his arm, and he fell to the ground screaming in pain while the large man laughed. What was left of the rogue’s clothing was drenched in sweat, blood, and dirt. On the other hand, Sven seemed to be enjoying himself. His face dripped with sweat, and blood covered his hands, but it was obvious that it wasn’t his own.

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