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I’m up early, meeting with our psychiatrist, Ellen, to review the women’s files. Werewolves don’t believe in doctor/patient privileges, especially regarding the humans we bring into our community. As Alpha, safety is my priority, so it’s important to understand anyone’s mental health when bringing them here. Ellen is half werewolf on her mother’s side. After graduating college, she came back to the community, and has been here for several decades. She’s a gentle speaker, non-judgmental, yet tells it like it is.

Over coffee in her office, she opens each woman’s file, explaining the physical issues she retrieved from the medical staff, and her assessment of their mental health. Even though she’s thin, which is to be expected, Louisa’s health checks out. At forty years old, she’s been a prostitute for years, and has fallen victim while turning tricks, but can cope with the past. Tara is twenty-eight years old and homeless. Her parents kicked her out of the house when she was of age, and she lost her job a year ago and couldn’t find another one. Her kidnapping and rape have traumatized her, yet Ellen believes she isn’t a threat. She needs therapy and to get comfortable here. At seventeen, Mandy has suffered the loss of her family in a fire, which was the same night as her abduction. Ellen informed me the men didn’t rape her, because the other women protected her by offering themselves up. She believes Mandy will adjust quickly through therapy.

Ellen takes off her glasses, pinches the bridge of her nose, and places them back on.

“Ivy is a whole different story.”

I take a sip of coffee and ask why.

“She’s had the most abuse and trauma.”

Placing the coffee cup to the side, I sit forward, resting my forearms on the desk and ask.

“Louisa told me she had it the worst.”

Ellen doesn’t know Ivy is my mate, although she can tell I have a soft spot for her.

Her eyes pin on mine when she continues.

“I’m not just talking about these rapes.”

I feel bitter vomit snaking up my throat, so I swallow hard.

“Ivy didn’t talk at all. Based on her injuries, old and new, and her demeanor, I’d say she’s been abused for years.”

I fall back into the chair, run a hand through my hair, and clear my throat.

“What is it about her injuries that gives you this impression?”

“She has a lot of vaginal and anal scarring. Old burns on her stomach from a cigar.”

Finally, she takes her glasses off.

“It’s not just her physical injuries, Larc. Ivy is withdrawn and quite submissive.”

Ellen pauses long enough for me to feel an itch of impatience.

“Since I haven’t spoken to her, I can only go by what I witnessed, and my educated guess tells me she’s been groomed.”

“Groomed for what?”

“To be someone’s sex slave.”

My head jerks to the side, finding it hard to fathom anyone doing such a monstrous thing. My mate is someone’s slave? Someone inflicted pain on her?

Ellen cuts into the silence.

“Louisa mentioned Ivy’s boyfriend sold her, so I’m guessing it was him. He tired of her and made money by selling her off. Three million to be exact.”

My pained expression has her lowering her voice.

“According to the documents Kyle found and gave to the FBI, her boyfriend sold her to an eighty-year-old man who has a fetish for blood play.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“People who have this fetish love to cut and watch the person bleed. They get off on it.”

I shake my head and hold my hand up.

“Okay, enough. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

Then I give it a second thought.

“Wait, do those documents name her boyfriend?”

“No. He covered his tracks.”

I rise, thank her for her time, and walk to the bunkhouse. I call my mother to see if she can meet me there. It’s cold out by human standards, and my breath emits a fog.

A slave. How does one even tackle this kind of shit?

Warm air hits when I swing the door open, and my mother comes in behind me.

She kisses my cheek and says.

“Good morning.”

My grim face must say it all, because she follows up with.

“I know these missions are tough, but you did good by saving ten women’s lives.”

Instead of telling her about my findings regarding Ivy, we knock to see if the women are decent. Becky shouts for us to come in.

Inside, I scan the place, immediately looking for Ivy, who I don’t see. The other women from yesterday are in sweats my mother brought over last night.

I look to Becky and ask.

“Where’s Ivy?”

She sighs.

“Oh, she’s still sleeping. Kept us up for most of the night with bad dreams.”

As I’m walking to her cot, I notice the mattress is gone, and Ivy’s head shoots up from the side of the bed. She jumps to her feet, strips off her clothes, and sits on her haunches with her legs spread, palms facing upward on her thighs. I slow while the other women gasp. My hand waves for them to leave, mind-linking my mother to say I’ll take care of this situation.

The door closes and I’m standing in front of Ivy. It’s the second time this morning I force down vomit. I take this moment to look her over. My eyes glide over her pale skin. There are bruises on her boney hips, and I see scars on her inner thighs. I tilt my head, eyes narrowing on her protruding ribs. Purple veins outline her wrists and under her collarbone, and she has nipple piercings. I bite down, blowing air out through my nose.

Without taking my eyes off her, I reach down for the blanket, wrap it around her shoulders, and squat in front of her. She never flinches, remaining in the same pose. Ellen’s words echo in my head. Groomed. Sex Slave. I’m ignorant to what’s involved in being a sex slave. Did she agree to it prior to it getting out of hand? Was it between consenting adults or was Ivy coerced?

“Look at me, Ivy.”

Her head slowly rises, followed by her eyes.

“Why did you take your clothes off and get into this position?”

She rubs her palm over her forehead, eyebrows crinkling, as if for the first time realizing what she had done.

“I thought you’d want me.”

She tries to cover the slight tremor in her voice by exhaling, but I can hear it.

Ellen clued me in on some stuff, yet I want to learn more from Ivy, so I play dumb and ask.

“Want you for what?”

“Sex.”

Ivy says it in a matter-of-fact way, like ordering a pizza.

“What made you think I want sex?”

Her gorgeous eyes meet mine.

“Did I disappoint you?”

I brush the backs of my fingers over her cheek.

“You could never disappoint me, Ivy.”

For the briefest moment, she presses her cheek into my fingers then sits up straighter.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.”

My elbows rest on my knees, palms upwards as I say.

“Come on, let’s get up.”

Her cold, thin, tiny hands slip into mine, and I help her stand. When she does, the blanket falls from her shoulders and lands on the mattress on the floor. Ivy isn’t embarrassed by her nudity, which I’m guessing has something to do with being a slave.

I collect the sweat outfit sitting on her dresser, handing it to her. Her head is bowed while she dresses, which is how she usually has it.

My butt hits the mattress and I sit cross-legged, patting the space in front of me. Ivy sits facing me in the same manner, except with a downward gaze.

“Can you do me a favor, Ivy, and keep your eyes on me?”

Her head rises.

“I’d like to have a little talk if that’s okay with you.”

Her eyes meet mine.

“Are you afraid of me?”

She shakes her head. “Good.”

I smile at her, and in seconds, a corner of her mouth lifts and falls again. The end of her nose has a slight upward curve, and her heart-shaped lips make me want to kiss them. My head shakes the thought away. Ivy’s features are dainty, except for her round eyes, outlined by long blond lashes, and their mesmerizing violet color. I can’t help thinking how much I want to hold her in my arms to shield her from the past, present, and future.

Questions I want to ask swirl in my mind, except I don’t want them to come out abrasive or judgmental.

“Since you’ll be living here, I’d like for us to get acquainted.”

“Okay. Would you like me to give you a blowjob?”

My mouth drops open, shocked by her nonchalant offer.

“No. I meant to talk.”

Her head drops.

“Plus, I’d like you to get in the habit of holding your head up and looking at people.”

She does as I ask. Embarrassment tints her cheeks. Fuck! This isn’t going in the direction I planned, and I’m fumbling to keep my emotions in check.

“Ivy, why is the mattress on the floor? I’m not mad, just wondering.”

She glances at the twin mattress we’re sitting on and then at me.

“I’m supposed to sleep on the floor.”

“Says, who?”

“Ben.”

“And what was Ben’s reason?”

Ivy deflects her attention to the other side of the room. I hear her heartbeat speed up, which tells me she’s nervous by my question. I sit, watching and waiting for her to answer, but she ignores it.

Instead, she gets back into her original suggestive pose, and asks.

“Can I do anything for you, sir? I’m very good, and I won’t disappoint.”

Goddess! She’s crushing my heart. What the hell did Ben do to her? It’s like she’s a robot. My back meets the dresser, and I do what I’ve wanted to do since earlier. Gesturing to her, she climbs into my lap, and I wrap my arms around her. Ivy melts into my embrace, which has me smiling at the fact she doesn’t fear me.

Out of instinct, I press my lips to the top of her head.

“Whatever happened in the past; whatever you were, remains in the past. I brought you here to start a new life. To do what you’d like.”

“But what if I want to pleasure you, sir?”

While still holding her, I stand, put her down, and say.

“Larc is fine, Ivy. How about we forget about sex for now and concentrate on something else you’d like to do, such as cooking or gardening?”

“If that’s what you’d like me to do, Larc, I’ll do it.”

“Yes, please. Today, you, Louisa, Tara, and Mandy are getting a tour of the place, and we’ll see where you all would like to work. Right now though, we’re going to eat.”

Ivy doesn’t say anything, walking with her head lowered. I place a finger under her chin and lift up. She keeps her head raised until we hit the mess hall, where it falls again. I whisper a reminder in her ear. She apologizes, and I tell her no need. With my hand on the middle of her upper back, I bring her to where the plates and dishes are set up. I hand her a plate, take one for me, and pile it high with breakfast food. Ivy stops and surveys the food yet hasn’t put anything on her plate.

I nudge her arm and say.

“Help yourself to anything you’d like.”

Her eyes meet mine, eyebrows dipped from confusion, as she responds.

“I don’t know what I like.”

My plate rests on the metal bars so I can bend down to her.

“Have you ever had any of these types of foods?”

She shakes her head for emphasis and responds.

“My dad only gave me oatmeal, and Ben offered the same. He didn’t want me fat.”

I straighten so she can’t see my nostrils flare and my eyes turn gold. My wolf presses into me, scratching and growling from what Ivy said. When I push my wolf back, I bend to talk to her.

“In our community, you can eat whatever you want.”

She inspects my plate, and her gorgeous eyes meet mine.

“I’d like to try what you’re eating.”

I laugh because I’m a huge eater, and the fact she’s attempting to eat puts a huge grin on my face.

“Let me help you.”

Ivy places her plate on the counter while I add pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast to it.

Her mouth hangs open when she looks up at me.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all of this food.”

I wink at her.

“Whatever you don’t finish, I will.”

All eyes are on us as I lead Ivy to an unoccupied bench on the far wall of the room. We sit and she watches how I eat the food and mimics me. Several bites and a small glass of orange juice later, and Ivy is full. It’s no wonder since her appearance is proof she doesn’t eat much.

We dispose of our plates in the bin. I gather the other women for the tour, except my mother interrupts, asking to have a word with me. The ladies wait in the foyer of the building while my mother and I step outside.

My mom doesn’t mince words.

“Never have I ever seen you give so much attention to one of the women you’ve saved.”

She crosses her arms.

“What’s going on?”

For once, I want to keep something from my mother and the wolfpack. So I can bide my time helping Ivy, and for us to become friends before letting everyone in on her being my mate. My mother is stubborn, and she won’t let this drop. But I’m not spilling so easily.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Larc. I’ve given birth to you, raised you, and I’ve mastered all the tell-tale signs of when you’re lying. What’s so special about Ivy?”

I turn from her, put my hands on my hips, exhale hard, and let my head fall back. We have blue skies this morning. Perfect weather to give the women a tour of the grounds, introduce them to others, and find a place for them. The sooner they are occupied with something to do, the easier it will be for them to acclimatize themselves into our community. That’s if my mother will give me a break.

She comes around and stands in front of me, softening her approach.

“What is it, Larc?”

My head drops to meet her gaze, and I whisper.

“Ivy’s my mate.”

She gasps so loud, whoever is in the vicinity turns to us.

I shush her, and add.

“Aside from Kyle, you’re the only other person who knows.”

My mother is aware of how much I’ve wanted to find my mate. How important my chosen mate is to me instead of picking one. And by the expression on her face, she’s pitying me because, like Kyle, she believes Ivy is not Luna material.

She touches my cheek.

“I am so sorry, Larc.”

I step back, pissed she’d even think of Ivy as less of a person.

“Don’t. Ivy deserves the same respect as everyone else.”

Tilting her head to the side, she says.

“Of course she does. It’s just…”

As I’m walking over to the women, I say.

“Tour time. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Louisa, Tara, Mandy, and Ivy come out of the mess hall, and we begin to walk the premises, with Ivy by my side at all times. My mother is aware I’m angry and takes a pass. There’s a main walking and bike trail that leads to all the areas in the community. I point out the bunkhouse and explain there’s another one for the men. We enter the mansion, which is a community center featuring a game room, theater area, library, and other recreational things for people to mingle or relax. My house is a half a mile from the mansion, which I’m not including in the tour, so we cut to the left toward the garden center. We have an indoor/outdoor garden, which grabs Mandy’s attention. I introduce her to Sybil, who manages the garden center, and they set up a time for Mandy to join tomorrow.

From there, we circle back to the main trail and pass a small house for washing and drying clothes, and an area for sewing. Louisa jumps on this opportunity, and since Tara is unsure of what to do, she requests to join Louisa. They meet Karen, who delegates the work and projects, and she invites the two of them to come tomorrow.

This leaves Ivy. Instead of putting pressure on her, I veer down a hill to a small dock, where I clap my hands and say.

“Are you ladies ready for a boat ride?”

All of them except Ivy shout yes. “Great!”

I hand out the life jackets.

“Put these on. We’re heading over to the rental cabins I told you about. People come here all year round to vacation. It’s October so it won’t be too crowded.”

With their life jackets on, I drive the boat toward the rentals, pointing out the paddle boats, jet skis, canoes, and a slew of other activities. We have twenty cabins and are in the process of working with an architect to set up a small hotel. By the time the tour is done, so are the women. It’s mid-afternoon, and I take them back to the bunkhouse so they can get some rest before dinner. I head to my house for some alone time. Between Ellen’s assessments, Ivy’s submission, and my mother’s reaction to Ivy being my mate, I need to decompress. Shifting and running through the forest is the best way to burn off anger, except we refrain from doing so during day hours.