Page 10 of Into the Dawn (The Devil’s Claw #3)

10

BEN

I let out a satisfied groan and try to roll over onto my back, stretching one arm out across the crisp white sheets, but frown to myself when my fingers meet nothing but cold cotton. My beast is unsettled by the emptiness beside us, still drunk on the lingering scent of our mate, and the memory of how close we came to marking her last night.

I crack one eye open, my body humming with the afterglow of incredible sex and a night's sleep next to my mate. My beast remembers how she'd tilted her head, exposing her throat to us in the heat of passion, and how my teeth had grazed the sensitive spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

One bite then, and she'd have been mine forever. Part of me wishes I'd done it, consequences be damned.

Bathed in my mate's scent, the ghost of her presence still clings to my skin. Everything had felt right in my world for those few precious hours. My beast had been at peace for the first time in years. But when my hand meets fresh air instead of silky-smooth skin, he goes on high alert.

The mark I didn't give her seems to burn in my mind, a missed opportunity that might have changed everything.

Instead of finding Vanessa curled up on the far side of the bed, maybe even looking back at me sleepily but adoringly, she's nowhere to be seen. The spot where she should be is empty, just like it's been for years.

My happiness ebbs away as a sinking feeling takes hold. Her scent has faded, and the spot on the bed she previously occupied is cold. She hasn't been beside me for a while. Just like before, she's made her choice, and it isn't me.

She’s left me. Again.

It's not the same situation, but my body acts like it is, the ghost of that crushing devastation returning to make my chest ache and my pulse rapid. My beast howls in protest, angry that I didn't mark her when I had the chance. At least then she couldn't have walked away so easily.

I'm an idiot. What did I think was going to happen here? That we'd rescue John and disappear into the sunset? That one night of passion would erase years of her choosing her family over our bond. She didn't want to do it once, more than likely, she still doesn't want to do it now.

My fingers trace the spot on my own neck where I almost marked her in return. The urge to claim her had been overwhelming, my beast, practically feral with the need to make her ours permanently. Now I wonder if that instinct was trying to warn me, maybe trying to protect us from this very moment.

The bleak reality of our situation presses down on my chest, and I groan, this time, in dread at what's to come, and how this has likely made things worse. The scent of our joining still hangs heavy in the air, taunting me with what could have been.

I should have just come here myself and demanded an exchange like my original plan. This fucking mate bond is making me stupid. Making me weak. Making me want things I can't have. Instead, later today, Vanessa is gonna walk me into her family's compound and hand me over to her father and Jed to do with as they please.

She's scared, I'm scared. I don't even know if I can trust her to go against her family when the chips are down. It's a big ask for someone who's never been able to do it before. Last night, I felt a little more confident that Vanessa wouldn't leave me to rot, that she'd come through and help find a way to get us out.

Her submission to me, the way she'd bared her throat. It had felt like a promise. Although given that she's no longer here beside me, maybe my faith in her is ever so slightly misplaced.

With a loud groan, I go to rub my hands down my face, but halfway to my stubbly chin, one arm is yanked back, and something rough and hard digs into the skin around my wrist. There's something tied around it.

My sluggish brain takes a second to realize that not only is there rope wrapped around it, but it's tied me to the bed. My beast snarls, instantly alert. Where the fuck is Vanessa?

The submission she showed last night suddenly feels like a trap. A very nice, very intoxicating one, but a trap nonetheless.

"Vanessa!" I yell, confused, as I stare back at my wrist and attempt to slide my fingers under the knot to pull it free. The rope refuses to snap, and I frown at it. This isn't ordinary rope, it's designed for shifters. Which can only mean bad things for me.

When Vanessa appears in the door looking guilty, arms crossed over her chest, the sinking feeling I felt earlier turns into barely contained anger. My beast does not like to be caged, and right now, the walls of Vanessa's bedroom, with the scent of our sex still on the sheets, feel like they're closing in.

She did it again.

"What the fuck is this, Vanessa?" I growl when she refuses to meet my eye, keeping her honey blonde hair hanging down over her face to hide her shame. She shifts on her feet, twiddling her fingers together and clearing her throat.

She's done something, something really bad, and she knows I'm not gonna like it.

"Vanessa, tell me what's going on. Now. Right fucking now."

"You said last night that you weren't sure if you could do it, that you didn't want me to get hurt. Like maybe, there's another way you could do this, but there isn't, Ben. There just isn't. And I'm not letting you do it alone."

Her hands wave around, gesturing emphatically to make her point like she does when she's nervous. And she's really nervous right now as she works up the courage to stare my furious beast down.

"So, you're gonna go in there, find John, stay alive, and then we're going to work out how to get you both out. That has to be the plan."

I don't even remember going back on the plan, but I don't think there's any point mentioning that, not when Vanessa is so worked up. Though maybe I did, last night when I was lost in her, when all I could think about was claiming her, protecting her.

"That is the plan, but what the fuck is this about, Vanessa?" I say yanking on the length of rope keeping me stuck to the bed.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, pure misery sweeping across her pretty features. The same features I'd traced with my fingers just hours ago.

My blood runs cold. In the distance, I hear an engine rumbling closer. "Sorry about what?" I hiss, my eyes darting to the window and back to the love of my life who, I have a feeling, has just screwed me over.

"They wouldn't believe me if I’d told them I’d managed to escape, got you into the car and drove you to the compound. Nobody's gonna believe that you sat there and played nicely. I mean, look at the size of you, Ben. You could burst out of the trunk, you could knock me out and steal the car. Nobody's gonna buy it."

She trails off. Nobody's gonna buy that, but they're gonna buy this hair-brained scheme is what she really means.

I lift up the duvet to try and stand, surprised to see I've got my boxers back on. She dressed me. Or, at least hid my modesty for me. She's got this all planned out. Maybe even did from the very start. Was last night my idea or hers? It's all started to twist and warp under the weight of the betrayal I feel.

Outside, there’s the sound of tyres on gravel, and the creak of suspension working hard as a vehicle bounces over potholes. Someone’s coming.

"I'm not gonna ask again, Vanessa, what did you do?"

Pushing back her shoulders, she straightens.

"They're on their way to pick you up."

I stare at her, horrified. This was not the way it was supposed to go. I'm in her bedroom, in her bed, for god's sake. The bed where I almost marked her, where I thought maybe we'd found our way back to each other.

"He's gonna kill me. He's gonna kill me the second he walks in the door," I say to Vanessa, staring at her. "What the hell have you done?"

She's shaking her head rapidly, tears forming in her eyes.

"This is the only way it will work. He knows I'm desperate. He already knows we have a history. This is the only plausible way I could have escaped and lured you up here."

Blinking hard, I can barely comprehend what she's saying, but then the slamming of a car door interrupts my thoughts, and my beast starts to push forward, sensing two dominant males approaching Vanessa's tiny home.

"They're coming," she says sadly. "Please Ben, just go along with it. Please, please."

I stare at her, not knowing what the hell to think. My beast howls in betrayal, in rage that we didn't mark her when we had the chance. That we let her fool us twice.

"This is not the way I wanted to go out," I mutter, staring down at my bare legs and chest, and tugging hard on the rope. "For fuck's sake. If they kill me, you better dress me and never breathe a word of this to Evan or Kali," I mutter, trying to get to my feet but stumbling when my arm pulls me back.

I have one leg in my jeans when footsteps pound up the porch stairs, and then suddenly, in the doorway, stand two huge men I never wanted to voluntarily see again, and yet, here we are.

Jed's beady eyes latch onto me immediately, and her dad starts to emit a low, deadly warning growl as he pushes past Vanessa to stand in the middle of the room.

One leap over the bed, one slash of his claws, and I'd be a dead man, attached as I am to Vanessa's headboard.

"I don't believe it," he says, a smug smile on his scarred and ruddy face. "Looky what the cat’s dragged in."