Page 3 of Vicious Wolf Mate

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MCKENNA

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” One of the shifters paces around the bunker, putting his hands behind his head. “They have him, dude. They could interrogate him. What if he…”

“He’s not gonna rat,” the other shouts, standing from his chair and kicking it over.

My eyebrows raise, but I roll my eyes. They’ve always been predictable creatures, wolf shifters, I mean. Angry, arrogant, and a touch of danger due to high emotions. Clearly, these three didn’t think of my father’s security before executing their idiotic plan.

Still, the ropes around my wrists and being tied to a chair prove they accomplished their primary goal. Now, I get to sit in a bunker and watch one of them have a meltdown while the other tries to console him very firmly.

From his build and tone of voice, I can tell he’s the alpha. Quite impressive how quickly he readjusted his plan when I thought I had gotten away. Though he underestimated me if he thought I was going to cry or beg when he pinned me against him.

A part of me wishes he would do it again, just for shits and giggles. Beats the boring night I was having.

“But Gnash, he…”

“Don’t say his name,” the alpha growls before looking at me.

“What?” I smirk. “Like I’m going to run off and tell someone who you are?” I nod to my hands behind the chair. “I’m a little…indisposed at the moment.”

The alpha walks toward me, putting his hands on the back of the chair and leaning down, his face so close to mine I can smell the forest on him. “Tell us how to contact your father.”

I laugh in his face, unable to control my reaction. “That’s an excellent question, and I wish I could help you.”

He shakes the chair and inhales deeply as he closes his eyes, trying to contain himself. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the outburst slightly attractive. I like a man who’s in touch with his feelings.

“Listen,” I continue slowly. “My father is always working or on a jet somewhere. He’s not really much of a dad, you could say. If you want to speak to him, you’re going to have to find him on your own. I don’t know anything that could help you.”

“He was there last night,” the other shifter growls.

“Yes, for fifteen minutes at a board meeting I wasn’t invited to.”

My gaze never leaves the alpha hovering over me, and I smirk again while he studies me. Finally, he stands, crossing his arms and flexing his biceps, but his eyes are assessing.

“We should rip her fucking throat out!” The smaller one races toward me, but the alpha stops him, never breaking eye contact with me as he holds his arm out to catch the force of the other.

“No,” he replies coolly as he cocks his head and smiles at me. “She’s telling the truth,” he continues mockingly. “In fact, I think she really hates good ol’ daddy.”

I break first. Rolling my eyes, I sigh before meeting his gaze again. “What do you want with him?”

They both laugh, and the alpha’s mouth stays curled into a grin as he shakes his head. “What don’t we want from him?” The question seems to snap him out of the moment. He begins pacing back and forth in front of me while the other one watches skeptically.

“We want our land back, first of all, because he has no fucking right to it. We want houses that don’t fucking flood every time it rains or crash at the slightest gust of wind. We want to be able to hunt freely like we’re literallybornto do. We want our fucking lives back! We’re sick of being at the bottom of the food chain…” His severe gaze pierces through me. “Even though we could kill your kind in seconds if we wanted to.”

I shrug. “So why not kill him?”

The alpha frowns and cocks his head. “What?”

I shrug again – what else can I do tied to a chair? – and frown. “Why not kill him? I mean, what’s his purpose? To you, at least.”

I purse my lips, musing. “Really, when you look at it, he runs billion-dollar corporations, is an ignorant classist with an ego that fills every estate he owns. He spends his free time lounging in the sun by a beach while underpaid employees kill themselves trying to manage a company that’s way too broad for them ever to comprehend, and when he does show up, he sits there like he couldn’t care less and lets his right-hand men do the fucking work for him.”

I laugh. “Oh, and he loves neglecting his family and verbally abusing them when hedoesshow up. All the money he’s given us for years can’t compensate for the traumatic narcissistic dynamic we all deal with.”

They’re clearly shocked by my statement. Mouths open and eyes wide, they look at each other and that tells me everything I need to know. They’ve given me the perfect opportunity.

My father became obsessed with power and money, from the moment I turned five. Every dollar spent was like a part of his soul was being ripped from his body. I’ve wanted a way out of my family for years, and my plans of taking my father down have gone nowhere, but maybe if more minds join together, we could figure something out.

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