Page 96 of The Reaper's Vow
“Waiting. Though I still think this is unnecessarily theatrical.”
“Theater has its place, Saloma. Binding her on her family's ancestral land, it sends a message. The old bloodlines will bow to the new order.”
My heart hammers against my ribs, but I force myself to remain still. My wolf surges against the chemical restraints, rage giving her strength. The old bloodlines. He wants to rape me on my family's land. The violation goes deeper than just my body. He's trying to desecrate everything.
Over my dead fucking body.
The car slows, tires crunching over gravel and fallen leaves. Through my barely cracked eyelids, I catch glimpses of towering redwoods blocking out most of the moonlight. We're deep in the forest now, far from any roads I recognize. The perfect place for Lockhart to commit his crimes without witnesses.
“How long until the moon reaches its peak?” Lockhart asks as the engine cuts out.
“Forty-three minutes,” Saloma replies, checking what sounds like an expensive watch. “More than enough time for the ritual.”
Ritual. The word makes my stomach clench with dread. This isn't just about claiming me—it's about making a statement. A public declaration that Thomas Lockhart has conquered the Rosewood bloodline.
Car doors slam shut, and cold night air rushes in as they open the back door beside me. Lockhart's hands grip my shoulders, dragging me from the seat with no regard for gentleness. I let my body stay limp, my head lolling as he hauls me upright.
“Still playing dead, little wolf?” His breath is hot against my ear. “I can feel your pulse racing.” His fingers brush over my throat, lingering on my jugular. “The sedative is wearing off. No need to pretend.”
I jerk upright, every muscle tight with loathing. “Go to hell.”
He laughs, the sound echoing through the trees around us. “There she is. I was beginning to think Saloma had given you too much.”
I test the zip ties again, the plastic digging into my wrists. My muscles still feel leaden, my reactions slow, but the drug isdefinitely wearing off. My wolf paces beneath my skin, growing stronger with each passing minute.
Lockhart drags me forward into a small clearing. What I see makes my blood run cold.
A stone altar sits in the center, ancient and weathered, its surface stained with what I suspect is centuries of blood. Torches surround it, casting long shadows across the faces of at least a dozen wolves watching me. They're all masked, just like at Crimson Howl, but these masks are different—carved wood depicting various predators, painted with symbols I don't recognize.
“Welcome home, Karina. To the land your mother abandoned.”
I struggle against his grip, but my limbs still won't fully cooperate. His grip on my arm tightens as he drags me toward the altar. My feet stumble over exposed roots and stones, my body still fighting the sedative's grip. The surrounding wolves move closer, forming a tighter circle around us, their masks hiding everything but hungry eyes that reflect the torchlight.
I scan the clearing desperately, looking for any escape route. The trees stand like silent sentinels, offering shadows but no salvation. Saloma moves ahead of us, placing something on the altar—a knife, its blade catching the firelight. My heart hammers against my ribs as panic claws up my throat.
“You're insane if you think I'll willingly accept you,” I spit, finally finding enough strength to dig my heels into the soft earth. “I'd rather die.”
Lockhart laughs, the sound echoing off the ancient trees. “Willing has nothing to do with it. Not when the moon rises.” He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Your wolf will recognize my dominance. She'll submit, even if you fight it.”
“My wolf despises you as much as I do,” I growl, feeling her rage building beneath my skin, burning through the last ofthe sedative's fog. The moon's pull growing stronger with each passing second.
“She’ll submit to me just to ease the ache of your heat cycle. You reek of desperation.”
“No, she won’t,” I spit back, tugging at my restraints.
He jerks me against him, snarling. “Defiance is something I will have to beat out of you once you’re my mate, it seems. Too bad for you, I will immensely enjoy doing it.”
“You will never have the chance.”
Rage surges through me, not just mine, but my wolf's too. She's fully awake now, snarling beneath my skin, her fury burning away the last vestiges of the sedative.
“Your mother should have taught you respect instead of how to hide in human skin. She was so busy teaching you to deny what you are that she forgot to teach you your place.”
“My mother saved me from monsters like you,” I spit, straining against his grip.
Lockhart's fingers dig deeper into my arm as he yanks me closer to the altar. “Saved you? She squandered you. She squanderedall of you. She wasted a bloodline that could’ve produced legends on a beta. On a nobody. She weakened our kind because she was too soft, too blind. She could’ve bred power. Instead she bred you, and now you are all that left of it.”
“Yet you want what I can give you badly enough to force me to mate you,” I spit, twisting my face from his grip.
