Page 23 of Into the Dawn

"You're, you're going to match me now? But we don't even know if the treatment's going to work," I stammer. I thought I had more time. "I mean, I mean, maybe they won't be able to help me. Or it might take a while."

My father shrugs one shoulder like it's no skin off his nose either way.

"Well, if I'm spending all that money, I'm not risking you getting knocked up by some one-night stand or a filthy human. It's going to be one of my boys. And if they're going to go along with this, I'm going to have to sweeten the deal by letting them have some fun too." With a leery grin, enjoying my discomfort,he adds, "They might want a test drive before they buy the goods."

I stand frozen to the spot, fear flooding my veins, and the urge to vomit causing my stomach to churn. Through our bond, I feel Ben's control slipping. The realization of what my father really intends to do crashes into me.

Of course, he's not going to wait until I go for treatment.

If he's intending for one of his cronies to mate with me and get me pregnant, he's going to make me their problem from right now.

He'll pay for the treatment, set it all up, then hand me over like I'm some kind of consolation prize and be done with me. If I get pregnant, great, he'll have grandkids and a son-in-law who hangs on to his every word. If not, I'm someone else's burden to bear.

"Put on a dress and come to the compound. When we've decided who it is, tomorrow, you can come back here and clean up all your shit."

As my father starts walking again, Ben resumes his slow, steady march alongside him without saying a word, but I see the tension in his shoulders, and the way the muscles bunch in his back.

Through our bond, I feel his fury at my father's plans for me, the possessive rage of his beast, barely contained. That's something he didn't anticipate either, and he doesn't like it. He's hanging on by a thread. If I get into an argument with my father, he's liable to do something stupid and get himself killed.

"I'll be up in an hour," I say quietly, acting all meek and submissive, just like my father would expect me to.

The lies I told about Ben earlier echo in my head, each one a knife to my heart. But they served their purpose. My father believes I'm finally broken, finally submissive enough to accept whatever fate he designs for me.

Whereas inside, I'm horrified, and for the first time, I'm realizing just how little he cares about me. The man who raised me, who I've spent years trying to please, sees me as nothing more than breeding stock to be traded away.

I always knew I was the black sheep. I always knew he wasn't proud of me, but this is a step too far.

Through our mate bond, I feel Ben's protective instincts surging, feel how badly he wants to turn around and tear my father apart. I send him what calm I can, praying he understands that I have a plan.

This makes my plan easier. Instead of some elaborate scheme to sneak John and Ben out under the cover of darkness, the weight of years of fear and submission falls away as clarity strikes.

I'm going to have to kill my father, and I'm not going to be too sad about it.

My beast, so often cowed by his presence, rumbles in agreement.

If he tries to harm me or our mate, he has to die. No more. The thought should horrify me more than it does, but after hearing him casually discuss trading me away like cattle, after watching him threaten my mate, something inside me has finally snapped.

I just pray Ben can forgive me for the lies I’ve told, and for the hurt that I’ve caused. That somehow, he'll understand that everything—the betrayal, the cruel words, all of it—was to keep him alive long enough for us to end this properly.

13

BEN

Squinting as the sunlight bounces off the untinted glass, I settle into the worn, ripped leather seat of Jed's truck. It stinks like stale beer and cigarettes, and the roof is stained a disgusting yellow.

My beast's heightened senses pick up other scents too, like old blood, fear, and rage. This truck has seen violence before. The leather under my fingers is cracked and stained in ways that tells stories of past "passengers."

Through our mate bond, I can still feel Vanessa's turmoil, her determination. The memory of her standing in that cabin surrounded by our shared memories while betraying me to these men makes my beast restless. But there's a plan forming in my mind, one that will ensure these men never threaten her, or anyone else I care about, ever again.

Vanessa's father slides into the driver's seat, and Jed grumbles, handing over the keys through the open window, not taking kindly to his father constantly putting him in his place and showing him who's the boss.

My beast catalogs every movement, every micro-expression. Rusty favors his left side slightly, a previous injury perhaps, ormaybe just age. His breath catches when he turns too quickly. Jed's right hand trembles when he's angry; a tell we could use later.

It's an interesting dynamic.

Jed is no match for the older man, but I can see the greedy gleam in his eyes, and the way he bristles every time his father asserts his dominance. He doesn't like being number two. My beast notes their weaknesses, their divisions. These men are strong individually, but they don't trust each other. That's something I can use.

The engine starts, and I force myself to keep my eyes forward and not to look for Vanessa as we pull away and roll toward town. Every instinct screams to protect my mate, but I push it down. She's stronger than they know. Then I knew, until I saw her stand up to them this morning.

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