Page 13 of Forced Wolf Bride

"And nothing. They killed my son, Quinn, and I will have vengeance."

His words are abrupt, angry even. But there's something else, too. It sounds a lot like sadness. Of course he's sad, his sonisdead. I’d heard the story from Gina and others. I’d even rebuilt the fountain Diego’s pack had destroyed, and I’d been terrified for Gina when she was held hostage. But I didn’t even once consider how Diego felt. His son Tyler sounds like a terrible man, but he was still that little boy from the photo years ago. Still Diego’s son.

I don't know what to say or do, and we've fallen silent. I look out the window. The bar ahead looks cozy, with lots of cute tables outside and string lights in the back courtyard. I'm almost surprised Diego would take me somewhere so... romantic.

"This looks lovely. Are we eating here?" I ask, trying to break the tension. It seems to do the trick as Diego slides out, slamming the door and coming around to my side of the cabin.

"Come on, kid." As we walk toward the bar, he slides his arm around my waist and pulls me close. I'm not sure if it's to stop me from running or because he wants to hold me, but I lean in, anyway.

I increasingly find myself drawn to Diego rather than repulsed, and it’s not just my wolf urging me on. There’s something in his soul pulling me in despite myself. Is it just the bond messing with my head?

Chapter 7 - Quinn

She looks so damn pretty sitting across the table from me. So damn pretty, and the softness in her eyes makes me feel like a total asshole.

We have been doing a weird dance these last couple of weeks. I don't even know why I started suggesting the walks. Keeping someone captive against their will usually involves keeping them locked up, not strolling around. I've no doubt her wolf would be fast if given the opportunity. I'm also not worried; I'm the fastest there is. Seeing her come alive in the meadows around my property has brought out unexpected emotions in me.

I knew from the first moment I clapped my eyes on her that the bond was more powerful than I could have ever imagined. But I still hadn't expected the emotions that came with it. If I'm honest, I'm not sure I've felt many emotions full-stop for a few years now. Even when Tyler died, I was numb. The only emotion I could feel—rage—was more of a functional feeling. It was about doing something rather than feeling something.

Even Zack doesn't know the extent of the bond’s hold over me. I think about Quinn all the time, making excuses to spend time with her. Like the walks, like this dinner. I assume it's the bond, anyway. There are times when we're walking, when she talks about her life and art, that I find myself drawn to her as a man versus a wolf.

I find myself saying things to her I don't talk to anyone else about, opening up about Tara's death, my childhood, and now even Tyler. It scares the shit out of me.

We haven't even slept together since that first morning. Her rejection of the mating bond, and me in general, felt so visceral that I decided to give her space. I have a feeling if I start something, I won’t be able to hold my wolf back. And although I'm not blind to my faults, I've never forced a woman into my bed. Never had to.

Never particularly bothered wining and dining women, either. Yet, here we are.

I'm well-aware that Silverstar wolves have been looking for Quinn, searching the forest and making inquiries throughout the vicinity. She's technically not part of the pack; she’s a bit of a strange one, as she was raised by humans from all accounts. Still, Mateo's pack obviously cares for her. It's not that I haven't considered how I could use her in my quest for revenge beyond the additional power the bond is giving me, but I'm surprised at how much the effect of the bond is clouding my judgment.

Something I can never admit to my pack.

I'm staring at the menu intently, even though I already know what I'm going to order—ribs, as always—when I realize Quinn’s asking me a question. I can tell she's skittish about being out. Probably thinks it's her big chance to escape.

"W-what are you having?" She's looking right at me, and I gather she's had to repeat the question.

I clear my throat. "Ribs. Sandy owns this place, and she does the best ribs around. You should definitely get some."

She smiles, her whole damn face lighting up. It's like lightning through my veins. "That sounds perfect. I'm starving."

I laugh. "I like a girl who eats. None of that picking through a salad business."

I already know Quinn's a curvy girl, not one of those stick-thin women. My thoughts instantly turn to when we were in bed, my hands gripping her soft hips as I pounded into her body. My eyes drop to her ample cleavage, and my dick is already rock-hard. When I look up, I see her eyes are on me and her cheeks are flushed. I've no doubt my thoughts are written all over my face.

We've fallen silent again. She's nervous, which is understandable. I'm the one who breaks the silence this time.

"So," I start, wanting to get her talking and ease the tension, "tell me how you got into art?"

She takes a deep breath and begins to tell me about growing up around humans, never quite fitting in with them or the wolves she encountered. She found solace in art. It was her escape from the world around her. She could use it to visualize her wolf side and find a way of dealing with not having a pack of her own.

She tells me about meeting her friend Gina at college, another wolf on her own, and their shared love of art and close bond. I remember Gina from our last attack on Silverstar. Another feisty female, if I recall.

I feel an immense but carefully contained sadness emanating from Quinn as she talks, and I can't help but place my hand over hers on the table. Her eyes meet mine in surprise, and there's something in them that makes my heart ache for what she's been through. Still, despite everything she's endured, she's brave enough to make her way in life without a family or pack of her own.

I can't bring myself to dwell on the similarities between Quinn losing her wolf family and me losing my first wife and now my only child. My son, and the ultimate source of all the vengeance running through my veins. I suddenly wonder if Quinn has ever felt the same bitterness.

"Does it ever make you angry?" I ask. "That your family left you, I mean? Or were taken from you? That humans raised you and denied your wolf?"

She thinks for a moment and then scoffs lightly. "Of course I don't. I've no idea why they left me, but my human parents were great. I've been loved." She's thoughtful for a moment before adding, "It is hard not to belong, but I'm not angry about it."

---