Page 22 of Forced Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #3)

When I lay down beside Winnie, my body feels like it’s on fire. I have no desire to reach out to her, though. The harsh sting of rejection still rings through me, and I have no need to feel it again.

What happened? This morning, everything seemed great. Then after the meeting…

I really didn’t like chaining her up again, but I felt I had no choice. The idea of my consummated bride running away is ten times worse than losing her if the union wasn’t sealed.

Because a consecrated luna who abandons her role can be hunted and killed by the old laws. If she returned to Galen, Quartz Key could rightfully go to war against us. What a gigantic fucking mess this has become.

I manage to steady my breathing and relax my body so that I can rest a little, even if I’m too wired to sleep. I can feel how tense Winnie is, even from the other side of the bed, and I’m guessing she isn’t going to get much relief, either.

I can tell she’s aroused… but she also seems scared. Doesn’t she trust me?

The answer to that is a glaring, obvious no.

I let out a deep sigh, feeling tingles run through my muscles as I slowly relax. Winnie’s breathing is settling down beside me, and I hope she’s finally drifting off to sleep.

And in the morning, if she’s not feeling better, we can at least have a decent conversation about what’s bothering her.

My mind tries to slip back to the night before, under the pretense of looking for clues as to why she’s now acting so distant. As soon as the graphic sexual images begin to flash through my mind, I have to shut down that line of thinking and force myself to worry about something else.

The attack, the scouts—worry about that.

With a little guilt, I admit that I should be giving this a lot more thought. I am extremely distressed about the damage to Gryphon Eyrie. If Valentine Creek really is responsible, they have to pay.

Maybe the council is right. They might be a whole pack of murderers and thieves, constantly taking advantage of others. I don’t know the truth. I only have Uncle Leroy’s word.

I loved my uncle, and after my mother died, he was all I had. But now that I’m an adult, his stories suddenly appear extremely one-sided.

Of course, they were—he came from the Creek. It’s true he never outright condemned either side, but he did talk heavily about the imbalance between the two sides and that innocents were suffering in the Creek.

I think about ordering an outright attack and what that might involve. It would definitely protect the Eyrie and remove the threat for good if we conquered them. The problem is, I can’t shake the feeling that innocents would get hurt. I won’t allow that to happen.

Even if they are all honorless dogs, I couldn’t bear to see kids get hurt. And I don’t think our warriors would give a damn—they’d just slaughter everyone in sight.

I also realize that Uncle Leroy was pretty clear to me on how impossible it is to bring peace to the packs. It was what my father planned, and he died for it.

Is the alpha who killed him still in charge? What do I do if I face him? I’m expected to kill him, both as a rival leader and the son of a wolf he killed. His position belongs to me on both fronts. By ancient law, Valentine Creek is rightfully mine.

Wrestling with my thoughts exhausts me, and I manage to slip into a light sleep. I wake with first light, though, and get up right away so I can solve all these matters as quickly as possible. And hopefully, save my marriage.

As I leave the room, I unlock Winnie’s chains from the bedpost. Her wrists are still cuffed together, but she’ll be able to get up and move around.

I’ll hear her when she gets up, and she can’t get far with her hands together. I really hope we can work this out.

In the kitchen, I start mixing up pancake batter, putting my full focus on stirring the eggs and milk in a bowl as I slowly add the flour. Out in the cabin, we had to make almost everything from scratch, and it wasn’t like Uncle Leroy had a cookbook.

It wouldn’t have mattered if he did. You can’t use a standard recipe when every egg you collect from your birds is a different size.

The process is meditative, soothing my anxiety and clearing my thoughts. I’m so involved with the task, I almost jump out of my skin when someone bangs on the back door.

I hurry to open it, finding Austin on my step.

“You’re in early,” I say, gesturing for him to come in. “Want some coffee?”

“Fuck, yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had a hell of a night.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Oh, no fighting,” he says, shaking his head. “But I did a full recon, and there’s no sign that Valentine Creek has left their boundary. I ran the whole way back to report to you as soon as I could.”

“What about the others?” I ask, putting a cup of coffee in front of him. “The council had scouts out, too.”

Austin shakes his head. “They went in separate directions from us. I tried to coordinate with them, but they wouldn’t listen to us.”

I focus intently on making a perfect circle of batter, letting my mind ruminate on that while my senses are distracted.

“That’s not good,” I finally say.

“Tell me about it. I don’t know where they went or what they did, but they weren’t with us.”

“This is bad,” I sigh, flipping the golden pancake onto a plate. “I really don’t know what to do here. The council is accusing me of bias. I could be fucked.”

Austin shrugs. “They have every right to that assumption—you’re from there.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t. Neither are our friends. Our whole bunch is made up of misfits from every end of Wolfshade. None of you has a reason to favor the Creek.”

“I really don’t,” Austin agrees. “Last night was the first time I’ve ever even seen it.

The place is peaceful, man. Very small, only a few buildings.

The town is fortified up close, so it can be easily defended.

It looks like all their efforts go towards making sure no one can get in.

I can’t see people that poor extending their resources to attack. ”

“And where would they even get the explosives or the manpower?” I consider.

“Well, to be fair, they’re heavy on the agriculture. A lot of fertilizers can be made into bombs. Manpower for an attack like that would be pretty impossible for them, though.”

“Hmm,” I mutter, swirling another wheel of dough. “I don’t like any of this at all. I know you aren’t biased, but the council will assume you are just because you’re my friend.”

“Yep,” Austin agrees, taking a sip of coffee. “What are you going to do?”

“No fucking clue. I’m not about to bring the might of Gryphon Eyrie down on the heads of a bunch of innocent farmers, but I also can’t risk a small group of zealous assassins getting in here and hurting any more members of my pack. My duty is to the Eyrie.”

“Damn straight,” Austin says, sipping his coffee.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“I’m not alpha, man,” Austin chuckles. “It’s not a job I’d ever want. This is your show, brother. We got you here, now it’s up to you to do your thing.”

I flip the last pancake onto the plate and sit down, rubbing my temples.

I was hoping to get some clear information that would set me on the right path, but now I’m worse off than before.

There’s a movement at the kitchen door, and I jump before I realize it’s Winnie.

How the hell did she sneak up on me like that? She could have gone straight out the front door!

As I watch her walk into the kitchen, it strikes me to the core that she didn’t run.

She had the chance to go… but she came in here instead.

“Morning, Damon,” she says, holding up her hands. “Can we take these off now?”

“Sure,” I answer, finding the key and uncuffing her. “Let me get you some pancakes.”

“I remember you,” Winnie says, turning to Austin.

“I’m honored to be in your presence, Luna,” he says, bowing his head.

“You could have shown me that kind of respect last time we met,” she points out, cutting off a slice of pancake with her fork and shoving it into her mouth.

“I’ll just say good morning, then,” he replies, smiling.

“Good morning to you, too,” she says, taking a sip of coffee.

“So, Winnie, we were just talking about—” I begin.

“I know,” she says. “I overheard everything. I agree, Damon. This is a twisted situation.”

“I feel like I should go,” Austin says, standing up. “I’ll find our guys and catch up with the other scouts. I really don’t like how they disappeared and still haven’t checked in.”

“I agree,” I say. “Get on it. The council will want me in soon, and I’ll have to make a decision.”

Austin gives me a short salute and goes out the back door. I watch Winnie as she cuts more slices off her pancake and slowly brings them to her mouth, licking syrup off her lips.

Don’t get distracted now. Focus on the safety of the pack and worry about your sex life later.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Winnie says.

I experience a brief moment of panic where I assume she means I’m thinking about throwing her down on the table and kissing the sweet syrup right off her lips.

“Oh?” I ask, trying not to show how excited I am.

“You’re thinking that Valentine Creek could be innocent, and it would be unfair to hit them, but if you make any more excuses, the elders will assume you’re against them.”

“Yes,” I reply, relieved she isn’t truly reading my mind.

“We need to hear from the other scouts,” she says. “The ones the council sent out. I don’t think anyone knows the complete truth here, but the more voices we hear, the more intel we have to make a solid decision.”

“It would be good to hear from someone in Valentine Creek,” I reply. “But I can’t see anyone just walking in there. Even Uncle Leroy wouldn’t do that. Since my father was killed, he didn’t feel safe there.”

Winnie sighs. “That doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

“Me either,” I admit.

We finish our pancakes and coffee, then head out to the manor to meet with the elders. Winnie seems quiet and thoughtful, but with nowhere near the amount of anxiety she had yesterday.

I have to figure out what’s going on in her mind. I want to be with her, no matter what. If all this other bullshit wasn’t in the way, I’d still want her. She needs to know that I treasure her for who she is, not for the power she gives me.

When we arrive at the manor, the other elders are gathered in the parlor, waiting for us. All of them look somber, but Regina’s face is a mask of barely concealed fury.

“The scouts have returned—” she begins.

“I know,” I answer. “I recently spoke with Austin. He told me that there was no evidence Valentine Creek had crossed the boundary—”

“No evidence?” Regina snaps. “Really?”

She stands up and walks towards me, a folded cloth in her hands. I feel a sense of doom opening up at my feet, a future of brutal, violent deeds I can’t escape.

And I thought power would bring me peace.

Regina stops in front of me, opening the cloth. Inside is a dried flower, lily-shaped with pale petals and a dark stem. The bright orange pollen scatters across the cloth with a bright, golden glimmer.

“It’s a fire flower,” I say after a moment.

“Yes, it is,” Regina says. “And they only grow in one place. Valentine Creek.”