Page 19 of Bullied Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #2)

As Kit sits down in front of me at the coffee shop, I try to settle the wild beating of my heart. I’m so relieved to see him, I could throw my arms around him. But at that thought, a whole new wave of anxiety rises, attempting to swallow me.

I’m trapped!

Trapped just like I’ve always been!

“Should we grab some dinner on the way home?” Kit asks, and even though his tone is light, I can see tension in his eyes.

What’s wrong with him?

Maybe the talking-to I gave him this morning has him on edge.

Even though that’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, it doesn’t convince me. My anxiety is starting to escalate into full-on nerves.

First, I feel like I’m being tracked, and now Kit is getting weird.

“Sure,” I murmur, hoping that my nervousness isn’t showing. I suddenly feel completely out of place, like I don’t belong here, and there’s no one I can trust.

I went from feeling welcome and safe at the meeting to feeling like an outcast, slowly being dragged back into a world of isolation and pain.

“Where would you like to go?” Kit asks, and I’m so distracted, it takes me a minute to realize what he’s talking about.

“How about some pizza?” I suggest.

“Sounds good,” he answers. “I haven’t had pizza in a while. How did the meeting go with the others?”

“Really good,” I say, smiling. “I didn’t think an official meeting would be so… cozy.”

He shrugs. “I’ve made a lot of changes. I’m determined to change this pack for the better after years of Grandfather’s tyranny.”

There is a hint of pain in his voice, and I feel like I have the perfect opening to ask about his involvement with the kill squads. But I can’t bring myself to say the words.

So, hey, Kit. Did your grandfather kill a lot of people?

Like, maybe, my mom?

“It looks like you have a council dedicated to the task,” I say instead.

He nods. “I want you to know that right after you left, when Grandfather died, there was quite a bit of chaos. My mother and father wanted nothing to do with the council. Grandfather had decided from an early stage that my father was too weak to be alpha—well, at least the kind of alpha that Grandfather wanted him to be.”

“That sounds awful,” I say sympathetically.

“I believe it was. He attempted to train several other young men, constantly pushing Father and telling him he’d replace him and humiliate him in front of the whole pack.”

I’m too shocked to speak. The more I hear about Leopold, the more I think he would have gotten along great with my own father.

Treating people as objects, possessions. Everything in this world is a tool to be used, and pain and fear are the only things needed to rule.

“After I was born, he finally left Father alone,” Kit continues.

“He said I had the makings of a truly great alpha—he could smell it in my blood. But he wasn’t going to let me be polluted by gentle treatment.

I had to be honed for the job from day one.

I spent most of my time growing up at his house. ”

I blink in surprise. “Kit, I had no idea!”

He shrugs. “Anyone who knew about it considered it to be normal. I used to blame my parents, but as I got older, I realized they were terrified of him, just like everyone else was. God knows what he threatened them with to force them to comply.”

I have difficulty absorbing these words. Kit always looked so happy in high school, laughing and joking, being the center of attention. He knew he was going to be alpha and wielded his power with relentless force.

He always acted like he had it made, and his life was a nonstop party. I had no idea he was hiding so much pain.

Kit looks off into the distance, and I study his profile, watching a muscle jump in his jaw. His bright blue eyes are the shade of a troubled, stormy sea. Tension lines stretch across his forehead.

He must be so strong to have borne this alone, to hide it from the entire town. At least I didn’t have to hide a monster. The entire pack knew what my father was.

“So, when he died, you immediately became alpha?” I ask.

He sighs, shaking his head. “It took a few weeks for the council to formally declare him dead. Everyone was really suspicious about them going away on holiday and disappearing. We had to actually hire a couple of investigators to track what happened. The wolves who checked it out told us no one could have survived that amount of blood loss and lived.”

“You never found the bodies?”

“No. It made my ascension a little difficult. Loretta tried to claim the position as regent. She said I was too young and Father was unworthy, but she could rule until I was old enough or when it was truly confirmed that Grandfather was dead. But Grandfather’s order was that I would become alpha immediately after his death. ”

“How did you resolve this?”

He smiles, and a pale light flashes deep in his eyes.

“I threatened to call the alpha’s challenge.

I was so close to being free and changing the pack for the better; I wasn’t going to let her take it away from me.

I didn’t think she’d back down, but she did.

She knew more about Grandfather’s methods than anyone else, even the special missions. ”

I can’t speak for a minute. “Special missions?”

Kit looks at me, his face going slack. I keep myself calm, trying not to show my anxiety. For a moment, all we do is stare at each other, the air between us almost boiling with untold secrets.

“Nothing important,” he finally says, looking away.

I drain the last of my coffee, looking around the square furtively as I get up. There is still a bit of a crowd around, and it unnerves me that someone could be easily hiding in it.

I’ve seen no sight, sound, or smell that could indicate my father is here, so why am I freaking out so hard?

Because he could be here.

“Let’s go,” I say to Kit, gesturing towards the doors. “Let’s go get that pizza.”

I try to sound enthusiastic, but my tone falls flat. It’s never been so obvious that both of us are going through the motions, and the awkwardness is almost unbearable.

In spite of this—or maybe because of it—I take Kit’s hand as we walk down the street. He laces his fingers through mine as we walk, smiling at people as we pass them and acting like happy newlyweds. It feels so good that for a while, I let myself believe it just might be true.

Kit’s hand is warm in mine, and when I lean on his shoulder and look up at him, he smiles down at me, his eyes shining with love. I reach up with my other hand and put it on his chest, reminded sharply of the night before, how I pinned him underneath me to take my pleasure.

This was a mistake.

My body is aching now, and by the time we pick up the pizza and walk back to the truck, I’m so horny that I can barely think straight.

The second we get in the car, Kit drops the act. He seems distant and aloof, a low-level tension settling across his shoulders.

Maybe it’s out of desire for me, and he’s making every effort to hold it back.

I don’t know if I love that thought or hate it. My head is starting to ache with the pressure of everything I’ve been through today.

Will I ever feel completely safe? I thought getting married would protect me and give me a place where I could finally be myself. Now I feel more trapped than ever before.

When we get home, Kit carries the pizza inside, and we sit at the table to eat. The silence rings with tension, and I try to think of a way to break it.

“Kit?”

“Yes?” he answers, not looking at me.

Words bubble up in my mind, threatening to pour through my lips. The way he revealed himself to me earlier made me feel like maybe I could open up to him. Even trust him with my secrets.

But now I don’t feel safe.

Even though he did open up, he still left out a lot of details. And he stayed far away from the hard topics.

If I start talking about where I’ve been and what’s happened to me… would he understand because it’s what his grandfather did to him?

“Lexa?” he prods, looking slightly frustrated.

“Nothing,” I say firmly. “It’s nothing.”

He gets a strange look in his eyes. It makes me so uncomfortable, I look down and glare at the pizza.

“You still haven’t told me why you left town,” he blurts. “Or where you went.”

I look up at him in shock, a piece of pizza trembling in my shaking hand. It’s so close to what I was thinking that it scares me.

What does he know? Is he trying to tell me he knows the answer to these questions?

“I’d rather not talk about that,” I say, trying to sound firm.

“Why?” he presses. “Is there something you don’t want me to know?”

His eyes seem to turn a brighter blue, burning into me like lasers. The fear ignites down inside my belly, tightening my chest, and all my doubts and questions stir like leaves in a tornado.

“I’m done with this conversation!” I snap, praying that I sound angry, not terrified. “I’m not letting you bully me like this.”

“Bully!” he repeats. “How is it bullying to ask why you left town or where you’ve been living all this time? You left right after we slept together, and then your mother—”

Kit stops talking abruptly, his face going completely white. He stares at me with wild eyes. I don’t know if he’s scared or about to tear me apart in frantic rage.

I can’t take this.

“Fuck you,” I whisper. “How fucking dare you.”

I turn around and storm out of the kitchen, running up the stairs to the bathroom. As I flick the lock, it isn’t lost on me that this is a very routine thing for me to do.

I used to hide in the bathroom from Father… until one night, he broke through it. I had to beg him just to put the door back on. He never replaced the lock.

For a few minutes, I just sit with my back pressed against the door, trying to stop myself from trembling. The idea of sinking into a nice, hot bath is tempting, but I know I’m too wired to enjoy it.

Am I ever going to feel safe? Is this feeling going to chase me for the rest of my life?

When I slip under the hot water in the shower, I immediately feel exhausted. The emotional toll weighs me down, making it hard to keep my eyes open. I rinse myself off quickly and dry off, hoping Kit is asleep by the time I get to the bedroom.

When I walk in, the room is dark. His breathing sounds slow and even.

I’m surprised that he can sleep at a time like this, but I’m also grateful I don’t have to talk to him.

Part of me wants to shake him awake and scream all my questions in his face.

The rest of me wants to run from the house and never see him again.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I see he’s left me a cup of warm cocoa and some cookies. I have to wonder about this small, sweet gesture that he has done every night and what it means.

Surely, he can’t know this is what mother always made as a treat to make me feel better?

How could he know that?

I crunch through the sweet cookies, washing them down with the warm, rich cocoa. It does make me feel better, and I feel grateful to him for making the effort.

This means more to me than anything else he’s done, like letting me go shopping. Instead of just going to bed angry, he makes me cocoa and leaves it for me to find, like it’s his way of caring for me, even if I’m angry with him.

Tears fill my eyes, and I wipe them away, finishing the cocoa so I can finally curl up in bed. Even though I was exhausted, the second I lie down, I feel completely awake. I can feel the heat radiating off Kit’s body and taste his scent on the back of my tongue.

My body comes alive, lines of lust running across my skin, hardening my nipples and making my pussy throb. I struggle to get myself under control, hoping Kit won’t wake up and notice me sweating with desire right next to him.

The memories from the night before come rushing back—the intense thrill of being with him again, satisfying my craving for his body, and completely owning him, bending him to my will.

Powerful, in control, and safe—so safe. I’ve never felt like that before.

The urge to reach out to Kit is almost overpowering, but I can’t do it. I lay there, struggling, torn between my desire for him and the fear that lives deep in my soul.