I take her by the hand and half-drag her into the main hall. I can't help but smirk at the slight resistance she offers. She's no match for my alpha strength, and I'm able to pull her along with me easily.
A bar has been set up, and the band is already playing. It occurs to me that the pack needed an excuse to get together more than anything. My mate ceremony has already been beneficial, and my wolf feels satisfied.
The party quickly becomes lively, with laughter, music, and drinks flowing freely. At least, all except one person. Quinn is stoically quiet, ignoring most people just as they ignore her. I don't blame her; she doesn't know what else the evening has in store for her. I'm not even sure myself yet.
She's clearly still scared of me, but she's trying to be brave. I find myself almost respecting her strength and courage in this situation, though my apprehension at bringing her into my pack like this still lingers. If I'm honest, the decision took me by surprise. I expected to walk in and tell Marcus to cut the woman loose or at least shut her up. But as soon as I entered the room, my wolf took over.
"Don't even think about running," I tell her, making sure she knows she's my prisoner as much as anything else tonight while reassuring myself that no matter what happens next—whether we truly are mates or not—I will do anything to ensure I have my revenge.
"I-I want to go home," she says quietly, apparently thinking only I can hear. I'm about to tell her to shut up when some wolves behind us laugh and mimic her voice.
"Aww, she wants to go home!" Marcus jeers. He’s standing with his younger cousin and some friends, and they’ve clearly been drinking for a while.
Ken, Marcus’s friend from the garage, nudges Zack and laughs. "Diego's going to show her how it goes, isn't he, Zack? He's gonna break her real good."
I hear Quinn gasp and feel her tense next to me as she tries to stand, but I grab her hand and hold her down.
"Shut the fuck up, idiots," I growl, and they raise their hands in mock surrender.
"Come on, Diego. You know you'll give it to her good." Marcus's cousin laughs mirthlessly
I'm seething. Zack simply looks bored and raises his eyebrow at me as Ken continues to become even more belligerent.
"We can all join in if you want," Ken says, winking at Quinn suggestively.
I take a step forward, my fists clenched. "Enough!" I bellow, cutting through the noise of the room like a knife. "We're leaving. Zack, take care of these idiots. I've got better things to do tonight."
I grab Quinn's hand again and lead her out without another word. I don't even bother looking back as I hear Zack enlist some other pack members to drag Marcus's disruptive group out. I've no doubt it will descend into a fight, but I know Zack's got the situation covered.
If the pack wants to assume I'm taking my mate now, willing or not tonight, then they can. The truth is, I haven't decided yet.
We make our way out of the hall and into the night air. The stars are twinkling above us, and I can feel Quinn's hand trembling in mine. She's scared, and she probably should be. But I can also tell there's something else beneath that fear. A spark of something that I can't quite put my finger on.
I don't say anything, just lead her silently to my cabin. As we approach it, I wonder if she's at all impressed by the modern timber and glass frame. Shaking my head, I wonder why I care what she thinks. Do I want her to be impressed?
I'm aware of a strange sense of anticipation. Something inside me quiets as we reach the door. Releasing her hand, I take a deep breath before unlocking the door and leading her inside. We pause briefly in the semi-lit hall as I kick off my boots. Looking down, I realize she's just walked through the snow in some thin slippers the witches must have given her.
"We'll get you some boots and things tomorrow," I tell her suddenly, inexplicably embarrassed about the state of her. It's like I'm seeing her for the first time. The soft light and shadows falling on her face only highlight how much younger she is than me.
I can feel my heart racing as I take in her auburn curls, smooth face, and plump lips. The low-cut sheath dress hugs her curves, and I can see the rise and fall of her chest with every breath. She looks away, and I see her eyes fall on the collection of photographs that line the sideboard. Tara did all this, and I've never thought to change it.
I see she's staring at one of me, Tara, and Tyler. She's probably wondering where my wife is now. "She's dead, they're both dead," I say.
Her eyes flicker to mine, and I’m surprised to see an unmistakable flicker of sympathy. "I'm so sorry about your family." Her voice is small, and she looks away again immediately, but I'm surprised by the genuine emotion in her voice.
"Come," I say gruffly, gesturing to the stairs. "Let's get to bed. It's been a long day."
Quinn nods and follows me, her steps slightly unsteady as if she's still unsure of what's going to happen. We reach the bedroom, and I gesture for her to enter. As she does, her eyes go wide as she takes in the spectacular picture window overlooking the mountains.
I feel my heart pounding in my chest as she turns to face me, and something significant passes between us. The air is charged with an unspoken understanding—she knows I could take her tonight, willing or not. She looks away quickly, nervously biting her lip.
"I'm not taking my dress off," she says as she stands by my large, imposing bed.
I know this is a challenge, a way for her to test me. After a moment, I decide. "Get in," I tell her firmly but without a threat. "I won't force you."
Her eyes widen with surprise before they soften slightly in relief. She climbs into bed silently and, without another word, pulls the covers up around herself like a protective shield for whatever might come next.
We lie in the dark until I eventually hear her breathing level out and assume she's fallen asleep.