Page 5 of Forced Wolf Bride

I dismiss him with the smallest inclination of my head. I feel him pause, almost willing him to say something just so I can knock him down like he deserves. But eventually, I hear the heavy door slam shut.

For a moment, the silence in the room is deafening. I'm waiting for the hysterics, and part of me wishes she'd get it over with so I can tell her I don't care what she thinks—from the moment I saw her, my wolf called the shots. He wants her, and so I'm going to have her.

I'm still not sure I believe in true mates, but I can't deny feeling something I've never felt before. Or maybe it's just her long, curvy legs and sexy hair...

"Stop looking at me like that," she finally snaps, and I can't help chuckling.

"I think I'm looking at you the same way your wolf's looking at me," I say, stalking closer to her and enjoying the way she skittishly backs into the corner, shaking her head.

"You're crazy, all of you," she spits. "You have to let me go. My pack will be looking for me. You don't want any trouble."

I step closer again, crowding her now. Her eyes widen as she realizes she's completely backed herself into a corner—strangely naive behavior for a wolf.

I sniff the air around her, my whole being thrumming with satisfaction as her scent confirms my suspicions. "You've certainly no mate or even a man. I'd smell him on you." She blushes as I continue. "In fact, I can barely smell anyone on you. Bit strange for someone whose whole pack will be motivated to start a war over you?"

She opens and closes her mouth, seemingly lost for words. I know I'm onto something. I take a closer look at her. She's pushed her auburn curls back, and I can see her stunning brown eyes that are still burning with indignation. Her full lips look enticingly soft and kissable. Her body is curvy in all the right places, pushing against the thin fabric of her t-shirt. She's a vision I can't help but appreciate as I take in every detail of her.

My wolf calls out to me, urging me to mark her, make her mine. My hands itch with the need to touch her, feel her warmth beneath my fingertips. I take a step closer, and she flinches from me before quickly regaining her composure.

“What is your name?” I ask, approaching slowly.

She hesitates for a moment before finally answering, “Quinn.”

"You don't have to be scared, Quinn," I mutter softly. "I won't hurt you." I reach out and brush away a few strands of hair that have fallen into her face.

Her skin is like velvet beneath my fingertips, and my heart skips a beat as she looks up at me with those big brown eyes wide with fear and something else—desire? That thought sends a thrum of electricity through my veins.

I add, "But you will come with me. And you will not disobey me."

Tears start welling in her eyes, but I feel unmoved.

"Y-you can't do this,” she sputters. “We're not mates. You can't make me do this." All pretense of bravery crumbles before my eyes, and I see how vulnerable she is. Which is a good thing—she'll fight less.

"If you don't agree, I'll give you back to Marcus and his friends. I don't need the hassle," I lie. I'd never let Marcus touch her.

She seems to waver for a minute, and I watch, curious as to which way she'll go. Will she mate willingly?

Finally, she squares her shoulders, raising her head slightly as she meets my eyes. "I'll go to the ceremony, but you're making a huge mistake. My pack won't just let this go. You can't just kidnap me. I'll never let you touch me, so don't even try."

At that, I simply smirk and step back slightly so she can pass as we head toward the door. I might as well give her the impression that she has some choice in all this.

She doesn't. My wolf decided what it wanted the moment I stepped into the room. And it wanted her. As I watch her curvy ass, narrow waist, and sexy hips sway as she walks ahead of me, trying to keep her head held high, I can't say he's wrong.

The mate ceremony is almost irrelevant at this point, but it's essential for the pack to see me making a bold declaration after our recent defeat. Whether I believe in the power of the mating bond or not, most of my pack seems to, and I need them motivated and confident if we're going to get the retribution we deserve.

That Tyler deserves.

We have several witches living on or around my pack lands, so finding someone to perform the ceremony is easy enough. They even brought some clothes for Quinn—a simple dress in a dark fabric that covers her more than I’d like but at least shows off her ample cleavage. I left the whole thing up to Zack, and he managed to pull off a gathering in the main square in front of the hall.

I’m surprised when the witch confirms our match, though I fight the urge to roll my eyes as she speaks about the power of finding your true mate. Yet, even as I internally groan at the notion, I feel myself drawn to Quinn so acutely, I have to force myself not to overthink it.

I steal a glance at her as she stands, back straight and eyes forward. Anyone who didn't know the situation would think she was listening to the witch's pontifications, but I can see the telltale tremble of her lips and the moisture gathering in her eyes. She's gripping her hands together in front of her, and her knuckles are white.

She's terrified.

I've never had a problem inflicting fear. In fact, I thrive on it in many ways and consider it a vital component of being an alpha. However, something about her is making my wolf feel anxious. Concerned, even?

I push down the feelings as I raise my arms, celebrating loudly with my pack as the ceremony concludes. Quinn stands silently next to me, looking almost dazed as the pack cheers.

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