Page 39 of Ruthlessly Mated (Shared Mates #2)

I call to Tailor and Conroy as I jump into the driver’s seat, gun the truck, throw the doors open for my mates to pile in if they want to, and head out through the busted gate.

They don’t come into the truck, but I think I see them running behind me, choosing to use the ash and fog of war as cover rather than the truck.

Alexander is still sitting in the mid-distance, around the siege line.

He is not moving. Ash is floating around him in the breeze, the remnants of his army.

He is still as stone as the loss spreads out around him.

I lock my eyes on him, this statue of cruel masculinity who took so much from me, and will likely take more in the future, and I realize that this is my chance.

I could erase him now. Hit him with the truck, cut off his head, stake him, turn him to ash like the rest of his kin…

“Don’t.”

The word cuts through my mind like ice.

I forgot he could do that.

How the fuck did I forget that?

A chuckle resonates through my mind, a hollow laughter that comes with the realization that I forgot because he wanted me to. He has been toying with my memories, overwriting things he wanted to stay hidden for his own amusement or ends.

I feel a flush of guilty heat. He’s been reading my mind this whole time, enjoying my pain, my fear, oh, my god—sensing my arousal. He probably knew every time I got laid. He probably knew when they threw me on that table in the smuggler’s bar.

I drive the truck up to him nice and slow, and park it tidily next to him. I get out, breathing in the odd scent of hundreds of dead vampires turned to dust and floating on the desert breeze along with the remnants of burning buildings and other fiery things.

“Your heart, sir,” I say.

“Good. Thank you.” He smiles at me a little too broadly for my liking.

“I’ll be going now,” I say. “You have a good one.”

He catches me by the arm and swings me back to face him.

“You think it is that simple? You think I am just going to let you go after you just got a thousand vampires killed?”

I stare. I can’t believe he is blaming me for this. Wait. Why can’t I believe that? Of course he’s blaming me for this. He’s blamed me for everything. I am a scapegoat.

“You are not a scapegoat,” Alexander says. “You are the wolf who stole my heart. And you will be held responsible.”

“Your vampires got themselves killed trying to eat a lot of people who made it really clear they weren’t up for being eaten,” I say. “That’s what happens when you ignore consent.”

“And what happens when you ignore the danger you put yourself and everyone you love in just to annoy your surrogate vampire father?”

“You’re not my father, and you never will be,” I reply. “You’ve got your explosive heart. We’re done here, right?”

“You came into my home, you stole an artifact from me, you put yourself and everyone else in your general vicinity at risk. You got a port razed to the ground. You caused a war here. You have caused the deaths of hundreds of humans and countless vampires.”

“No, you did all of that, by overreacting. You could have just chilled.”

Nobody wants to hear that they could have just chilled less than an ancient warlord whose go-to response has been to slaughter a village every time he’s been inconvenienced since the dawn of time.

“Do you want me to drain you?” Alexander hisses. “You have been increasingly provocative. Are you looking for some kind of final showdown? Tired of living?”

“You killed my parents, you monster.”

“I killed your parents, and I gave you life. What would you have been if I left you with them, a runt of a wolf, bullied by her pack, likely traded off to a low status mate early on who would have bred you relentlessly before you knew what it meant to be a person?”

“That would not have happened.”

“Yes. It would have. Have you ever gone back to the place I took you from? Have you gone to see the family you lost? You were trash, Kita, and I made you royalty.”

A loud slap echoes through the night.

I just smacked him in the face.

I just slapped one of the most powerful vampires in all of history in the face.

He smirks at me, fangs long and dangerous.

“I have killed people for less.”

“You kill people like you breathe.”

Alexander snorts. “You know, you are quite correct. This is not the time to re-litigate the sins of the past, even the most recent ones. The future will prove all I have said, one way or another. You need to discover these things for yourself. You’ve always needed to put your hand on the metaphorical stove.

I do not have time to argue with you, child.

Besides. You have bigger things to worry about. ”

“Like what?”

“Like your mates.”

He looks over my head. I turn and follow his eye line and see three tall, broad figures standing silhouetted against the burning city. I can feel their stares, and start to feel as though I am withering under them.

I turn back to the ancient evil who ruined my life and almost got us all killed and probably wants to kill me now, even.

“Don’t you want to threaten me some more?”

He laughs. “No. I am going to leave you to the mercy of fate, of three, as it turns out, wolves who have taken you on as their own. Makes sense. I thought you had run me over. It was the missing wolf, wasn’t it?

The dark one with the heavy soul. He’s your favorite, isn’t he?

The one who never recoils from your darkness or tries to contain your wildness.

He’s not like the big one. The one who dreams of taming you. ”

Alexander is describing Conroy and Damon with incredible accuracy and insight.

“Maybe,” I say, noncommittal.

“I wish them the best of luck. Let me know when the wedding is. I expect an invitation. Now go. I need to rehydrate the heart before it explodes. Fortunately there is plenty of blood flowing in the city.”

I’m being dismissed. I turn and I run as fast as I can on human feet to my missing mate. My eyes are locked on him, and only him.

“Damon!” I rush at him, then pull back at the last moment, not wanting to hurt him.

He steps forward, wraps his arms around me and holds me impossibly tight.

“I heard you ran away,” he says, his voice rough and low.

“That was so long ago.”

“Two, maybe three days ago?”

“Maybe,” I admit, tears leaking from my eyes.

“Don’t run away from us,” he murmurs.

“I won’t. I promise.”

Conroy’s hand comes down on the back of my neck. He yanks me back out of Damon’s arms and turns me to look at him. He’s pissed. The sort of pissed you get when you disobey a warrior in the middle of a battle.

“No,” he says. “You won’t.”

His tone makes me cringe internally. He makes me feel so incredibly guilty.

Goddamn it. I wish I was like Alexander.

I wish I could just shake all these feelings off and tell anybody who dared question me that I can do what I want, no matter what it is.

But I can’t. I’m their mate, and my biology reacts to them.

I am so fucking aroused and so guilty and I feel so small.

Conroy’s fingers curl in the back of my hair. He pulls me back against him, and he puts his hand underneath my chin and wraps his fingers loosely around my neck.

“You are due a long, hard reckoning,” he says. “And you are going to get it.”

A whimpering moan escapes my lips as I realize just how much visceral trouble I am in.

I am not going to get away with anything.

I thought I was, because I was managing to go from troublesome situation to troublesome situation, but this is giving some final destination find out what all the fucking around gets you vibes and it is making my stomach quiver.

Damon curls an arm around my waist and snugs me back toward him, giving Conroy what I hope is a warning look. We are still very close to a lot of conflict. At any moment, people could come pouring out of the city and kill us. That would probably save me a lot of the pain I have coming.

“I am so glad to see you,” I say. “I wish you weren’t here. I’m sorry. I wish none of you were here.”

“You didn’t get me shot,” he says. “It was unrelated aggression. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

He seems to be talking to me, but he’s mostly looking at Conroy.

I wonder what arguments they had between them, or will yet have.

I wonder how Damon found us. He wasn’t part of the original abduction.

I kind of wish he’d stayed back out of the fray.

It was making me feel a little better knowing that at least one of us would survive.

It occurs to me that I might be able to talk Conroy out of his anger. This was a successful mission, in the sense that the feud with Alexander is at an end for the moment, and he does not need to worry about a terribly evil vampire coming for him or me or anyone else.

“I’m sorry. I am. I am very sorry. I know I fucked up,” I apologize as we escape the danger at what amounts to a slow stroll.

“People died, Kita,” he says.

I don’t know what to say, so I say something stupid.

“That’s what people do.”

He frowns at me. “You’re not like this. This isn’t you. You’ve been running on guilt and sugar since I met you, and now you don’t care about people dying?”

“I care. I just don’t want to feel guilty from you in addition to the guilt I already feel.”

“We are going to teach you a lesson, Kita. We are going to breed you until we are certain you are going to bear our pups. There will be no adventures. There will be no feuds. There will be no wars. There will be you and our cocks, and your chaotic little pussy filled with our seed.”

I feel immensely guilty as I am taken from the apocalyptic aftermath of the battle for the maker’s heart.

They’re right. And I was right too. This is all my fault.

This has all been my fault for a very long time.

If I consider my body count, it’s in the hundreds, maybe thousands.

Alexander is a monster, but I am one too.

I am barely trustworthy for anything. I bet I could turn making a sandwich into a war crime.

The car is not far away. The same one Damon got shot in, but it has been modified with armored plates to be less likely to allow us to be shot while in it.

I am put in the back between Damon and Tailor. Conroy is driving. I hope that means he will be focusing on the road, avoiding roadblocks, landmines, and ambushes.

“Hey,” I say to Tailor. “Good fight?”

Tailor gives me a sexy you know you’re fucked smirk. I give him a mercy please look. He shakes his head just a fraction at me. He’s not going to save me.

“Damon has organized a safehouse for us,” Conroy says.

“When we get there, there’s no leaving. If I call your name at any point, and you don’t come running, you’re getting your ass spanked and fucked.

Understand? I swear to god, Kita, the running around doing whatever you feel like doing thing is over.

I will put a fucking leash on you if I have to. ”

I sink down in the back seat between Tailor and Damon, knowing they probably agree with Conroy, they’re just letting him be the big bad wolf.

I’ve really fucked up. So many times.

I guess the only thing I can do now is let whatever is going to happen, happen.

If he wants to whip my ass and knock me up, I guess that’s the punishment I deserve.

It’s probably the least of it. I don’t think I was ever supposed to live, really.

I think the life I’ve had has been a bit of a mistake.

Alexander should have eaten me, and then I would never have been able to cause all this trouble.

It feels like I am being transported under guard.

Feels like being imprisoned.

Feels like this is the end of my life somehow.

They’re going to carry me off and fuck babies into me, and I am totally not equipped to care for a baby.

All I can remember about parenting is to be vaguely nice and then get murdered.

I think I can do the latter part, but the former might be beyond me. Also, Conroy as a dad?

Tailor and Damon would be fine, I think, but Conroy should be running an underground militia, not a family.

“Don’t let him get me first,” I whisper to the other two in the back.

“Easy, baby, it’s going to be fine,” Tailor says. “In a few days you might be able to walk.”

“I am going to throw myself out of this moving vehicle. It’s going to be less painful.”

I’m kidding, but only just, and Tailor does grab my arm in response as if he thinks I might actually do something that impulsive and stupid.

“I’m joking,” I say. “It’s fine. Carry me off and impregnate me. I’m sure I’ll make an excellent mother. No red flags here at all. I’m very suitable and ready for motherhood.”

“You are getting bred, and you are going to like it,” Conroy snaps from the front. “I have had enough of chasing you around the countryside through various conflicts. It’s time you settled down. I intend to make sure you do.”

“Yeah? And you’re going to settle down with me? Same thing, day after day? Changing diapers? Listening to the same story about a stick over and over? Watching children’s shows? Going to sports?”

“Stop it,” Conroy growls. “Ours will be different. We will teach them to hunt, and we will raise them to be strong and independent.”

“Not too strong, or too independent, though, right? Going to have to hobble them so they don’t run out into the world and break things.”

“Not everybody acts like you,” Conroy says. “We will all make sure our whelps don’t repeat their mother’s mistakes.”

“That’s enough,” Tailor says, his voice cutting in, cool and calm. “Kita did well tonight.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You’re alive. We all are. That means you did well.”

Conroy quiets down and drives in silence.

I curl up with Damon, who puts his arm around me.

“Up on the left,” he says. “Then the next right. Right again. Then left.”

Damon found us a safehouse, though I do not know how safe it will be for me.