The Somerset Series: A Box Set: Books 2-4

by Isadora Brown

  “Marcus has it,” Bridgette growled.

  “Liar,” he said with a smirk.

  "What Marcus and I did here," Bridgette said, her voice cutting, too afraid of what was about to happen to feel shame, "was not what you're about to attempt to do. Marcus never forced me, but the only way you'll ever get to me is by force."

  This caused Gerard to growl, and his face contorted into a threatening scowl. Bridgette didn't want to feel afraid, but she couldn't help it. He was tall, strong, and she knew that despite her extensive training in combat, she wouldn't be able to beat him. Gerard lifted his hand and coiled his fingers around her slender neck.

  "You will be fun to break," he said. His teeth clenched, his eyes narrowed into hers. "And once you're broken, Marcus will no longer want you."

  "You can try," Bridgette said through gasps, trying to ignore the pain from his vice-like grip. She twisted her body and reached up before she kicked him directly in the stomach.

  Gerard didn’t seem to expect the blow and released her out of instinct, feeling some of the air slip out of his lips. In that time, Bridgette managed to slide out from under his grip and attempted to dash towards the door. The corners of his lips twitched up and he pinpointed where she was going to be with his sharp eyes.

  "Well, my dear," he murmured under his breath. "The battle has begun. Such a shame something so pretty will turn out so damaged. Once I’m through with you, I’ll go through everything until I have that folder back. You will be punished for your impertinence. I am the Alpha’s brother.”

  “But you aren’t the Alpha,” Bridgette pointed out, her back still to Gerard.

  Just as Bridgette's fingers curled around the door handle, Gerard leaped into the air and knocked into her, causing her to fall to the ground, the wind completely leaving her. It was hard to breathe due to the fact that Gerard's heavy body was pressing down on her, not giving her an inch to accumulate her breath. Hell, she couldn't even move, but she couldn't let him get away with this, with what he was doing to Marcus, to the pack, and what he planned to do to her.

  Gerard grinned down at her with triumph. "I might be worried that Marcus will burst in here," he said as his fingers curled around the thin strap of her tank top before pulling it so hard that it broke. "But he's on his run and it's not likely he'll be back anytime soon. Lucky for you; I get to take my time." He gripped the other strap and did the same thing to that one before tugging the front of her shirt down. He stopped for a moment, his eyes feasting on her breasts pooling out of her shirt. The only layer left restricting him from them was the bra, but that could be quickly disposed of…

  Before Gerard could even think about what he wanted to do next, the library door burst open and Marcus was there, his face contorted into the most intimidating scowl Bridgette had ever seen. He reached down and ripped Gerard off of her, and in an amazing bout of strength, he threw his brother across the room so Gerard's body hit the bookshelves and crumbled down. Books cluttered around him, some hitting the top of his head. In a flash, Marcus was standing beside him, before reaching down and grabbing Gerard by his neck, pulling him up. Bridgette was in such a state of shock that the only thing she was able to do was make herself decent. She couldn't scream or cry, and she couldn't stand because she knew her legs would give out from under her. All she could do was catch her breath, lean against the door, and watch.

  "What did I tell you?" Marcus asked, his hazel eyes bearing into Gerard's before he snapped his teeth in frustration. "Not her. Not her." Just saying it caused Marcus's mind to flash to what he had seen just moments before and he squeezed his fingers tightly. "Why shouldn't I kill you right now?"

  Gerard opened his mouth and tried to respond but he couldn't due to the fact how tightly Marcus was holding him. Maybe Marcus didn't want him to answer.

  “Marcus,” Bridgette said, her voice strained. “Don’t. There’s…. you need… to know…”

  After what felt like forever, Marcus placed Gerard on the floor, releasing his hold on his brother, but his face didn't look any less harsh. "Go," he said in a growl, his voice low but gravelly. "Go. You are never to return to this pack. As Alpha male, I forbid you. So go now. I never want you to return."

  "Go!" Marcus snapped when he saw that Gerard wasn't listening to him.

  With one last penetrating look at Bridgette, Gerard pushed past the woman and all but limped out.

  Marcus turned and looked over at Bridgette on the floor. His breath was ragged, his heart constricting painfully. He just banished his own flesh and blood for a woman who might not even want him. But looking at her… In the time he had known her, he had never seen her cry. She looked shaken up, sad, and vulnerable. Who knew what would have happened if they didn't have this connection between them? He had felt her fear even though he was running through the forest as a wolf, and once he felt Bridgette was in immediate danger, he hurried to the house. He couldn't believe that his own brother…

  Marcus dropped to his knees and locked eyes with her. He reached out to touch her, but he hesitated, unsure if she wanted any sort of contact with a male right now.

  "Bridgette," he said, his voice still gravelly, but his eyes had softened upon looking at her. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I understand if you want to leave. I won't stop you."

  “There’s more,” Bridgette murmured, her voice still raw. “Folder… get Abigail… she knows… It explains… everything. Why the NDS wanted you…”

  “Shh, now,” Marcus said in a gruff whisper. He kissed her lips softly as a way to kindly shut her up. “You can tell me when you’re feeling better. Come on, now. I’m going to take you to bed. Is that all right?”

  Bridgette nodded, her eyes heavy. He picked her up in his arms and held her tightly against him. No one would ever hurt her again. Not while he was around.

  28

  That night, the two connected in a way they never had before. Neither of them was spiritual in any sense, but they definitely felt something special as they engaged in the practice of making love. Marcus left no stone unturned when it came to Bridgette and that was what she wanted from him. In turn, he wanted to make her feel as special as she really was to him. He explored very inch of her skin; they had the whole night, and he wanted to take as much time as possible, unsure if he would ever get such an opportunity again.

  Bridgette was not a selfish lover. She gave to him as much as she got in return. Normally, she might have been shy, but she had known Marcus for quite a while, and it wasn't as though they hadn't done something like this before. Except, this time, instead of uncontrollable passion controlling their desires, it was something else, something more, and something deeper.

  The act itself was slow and sensual at times before they decided to pick up speed and let lust taint the act for a moment. Marcus never wanted the night to end; he could spend forever here, making love to the woman beneath him, looking up at him with smoky blue eyes, desire for him obviously embedded in them. It was probably then that he realized he loved her. He had never felt as connected as he did with Bridgette, and he was sure that even if he hadn't marked her in such a way, he would feel the same. It was silly because Marcus was anything but romantic, but he hoped that by the end of her time here, she would ultimately choose to stay with him, marry him, and be his life-mate.

  The next night at dinner, Marcus explained that Gerard had left abruptly because he had banished him. It was difficult to say the words – to lie to his pack about his brother’s infractions – but he did so. When Bridgette told him that Ryan and Brandon were part of it, that they had betrayed the pack for monetary purposes, he allowed Bridgette to call up her contact at the NDS and set the two up so the agency could take them in and finally back off Marcus. She faxed over the evidence she had collected as well, just to ensure they knew it had nothing to do with her emotions. That, Marcus didn’t lie about, and when he told his pack, they were surprised, shocked, and some were even outraged.

  It had been a long twenty-four hours, but the couple was
glad it was finally over.

  Afterward, Bridgette and Marcus went upstairs. Now that Gerard was gone, Marcus assumed Bridgette would sleep in her designated room, but she didn’t.

  “I, I just want to feel you close to me,” she explained, playing with the ends of her hair almost shyly.

  As she was in the bathroom, right after she slipped into a nightgown, her stomach churned painfully. She gasped, but the pain was so distinct that it brought her to her knees. Immediately, tears sprung into her eyes as she gripped the toilet bowl tightly, hoping and waiting for it to go away.

  Marcus must have realized something was happening to Bridgette because he knocked on the bathroom door, asking if everything was all right. Bridgette opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out, and suddenly, she realized just how badly she wanted to throw up. She lifted the lid of the toilet and released the contents in her stomach. Upon hearing the wretched sound, Marcus threw open the door before kneeling down and holding back Bridgette's long hair.

  "What's wrong?" Marcus asked after a moment. It seemed as though she couldn't stop, and he had watched her eat dinner that night, knowing that she couldn't have eaten much. Tears stained her cheeks and her brow was accumulated with sweat, causing her hair to mat against her face. "How can I help you?"

  Marcus felt as though he was losing patience. Being an Alpha male, Marcus Sterling was best at fixing things, but now it would seem that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to fix whatever it was that caused Bridgette such excruciating pain because he didn't know what was happening. He couldn't understand what Bridgette was going through.

  "I'm going to get Abigail," Marcus said. That was the best thing he could think of. He hated to leave her like this, if only for a moment, but maybe Abigail had seen something like this before. Maybe she could tell him what was happening to Bridgette, and once he found out, he could help. He needed to help her. He rushed out the door, only to stop. He had no idea where Abigail was. It took him a moment for him to sniff out her scent, and he was grateful she was still in the dining room. It didn’t take him long to reach her. He needed to help her.

  The expression on Marcus’s face caused Abigail to stop talking with the other servants as they cleared the table. “Bridgette?” she guessed as she followed him out of the room.

  He nodded, his jaw popping.

  "She can't stop throwing up," Marcus told Abigail as he led her back up the stairs and into his room. "I don't understand it. I don't think she's sick, and if it's food poisoning, someone else would have it too. I just – I can't –" Marcus stopped speaking abruptly and ran his fingers through his thick hair.

  Marcus watched as Abigail took in the sight of Bridgette holding desperately onto the toilet bowl, her face a sickly pale color, and the blood drained from her face. She turned around to lock eyes with Marcus.

  "You need to bring her downstairs," she told him, her voice soft, and her eyes urgent. "Into the basement. She's experiencing the Change."

  Marcus nearly lost his balance upon hearing the words. However, upon seeing Bridgette on her knees, her fingers shaking, he knelt down and picked her up in his arms. Her body curled into the fetal position, and she was whimpering in pain, her eyes closed. It didn't take him long before he headed down the stairs and into the room his grandparents had set up in case they ever had to deal with a human becoming one of them.

  The room had a staircase that descended, much like a basement. It was spacious and comfortable, and there was twenty-four-hour supervision where every fifteen minutes, a maid would write down a status update. Marcus set Bridgette down on the lone bed before taking a step back and regarding Abigail as he gently bit his bottom lip, waiting for further instruction.

  "What now?" he asked, turning his attention to Abigail, perking his brow. He knew he looked desperate but at that point, he didn't care. "What happens now?"

  "Humans aren't known for their strength," Abigail explained in a way where every word she told him had a purpose. It was as though she didn't want to upset him, but at the same time, she wanted to make sure that he understood what was happening. "She might not survive the night."

  Marcus bit back a growl. Just because he knew this didn’t make it any easier to hear.

  "Transformation for humans is a very painful process," Abigail explained, somehow managing to keep her cool. How could she be so calm when Marcus himself couldn’t hold it together? What did that say about him as an Alpha Male? "Their chromosomes literally have to be pulled apart only to merge back together. Her body has to develop into a wolf's."

  "Can't you tell from right now whether or not she's going to survive?" Marcus asked, feeling anxiety start to tease the insides of his stomach. He threw a helpless glance over at Bridgette but found her to be unconscious. Sadly, it looked as though the state didn't allow her to escape from the pain.

  Abigail shook her head, following Marcus’ gaze. "I'm sorry," she said, "but no. It's still too early to tell." She paused, swallowed, and released a sigh through her nose. "What I do know is that if she manages to survive through the night, her chances of overall survival increase dramatically."

  "So what do we do now?" Marcus asked, his voice hard. It was the only thing he could control, it would seem; he couldn’t get a hold of his shaking hands, of the incessant worry piercing his insides, of helping Bridgette, of taking away her pain, but he could control his voice and he took full advantage of that.

  "We wait," Abigail said simply. "You can leave if you want to, sir. A maid will be in here every fifteen minutes. She won't be alone. And someone will come to you every half hour to tell you if her status has changed at all. She will be in good hands," she promised.

  Marcus struggled with the last bits of his patience. "I have no doubt that she will be in good hands, Abigail," he conceded slowly, his voice articulating each and every word. He had crossed his arms over his chest and paused, clenching his jaw together. "But I'm not leaving her. Don't try to argue with me on this one either. I still want the maids to come in and do whatever they have to do to help her, but I'm staying. I don't want you to tell the pack what's going on though I'm sure they can probably smell it and put two and two together. If anyone wants me, tell them not to disturb me under any – any – circumstances. Do you understand?"

  Abigail nodded. "Yes sir," she said. "I will go get the first maid." She turned and headed for the door, but paused as she reached the doorway. Marcus leaned against the wall and slid downwards before resting his head against the side of the bed. He knew he couldn't do anything to help her, but he could be with her. And that's what he would do. "Sir?” Abigail called, getting his attention. "If you don't mind me saying, Bridgette is a strong human. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

  Marcus smiled, and as Abigail took her leave, hoped that what she said was true.

  29

  She had done it. She had survived. She was now officially a werewolf. And yet, as Bridgette sat in the hot bathtub, washing – cleansing herself, as they termed it – she wasn't upset about it. In fact, if she was being honest, she was actually happy about the change because… Well, because it brought her closer to Marcus, and she wanted to be as close to him as possible. Now she could admit it; she felt very strongly towards the Alpha male, and not just physically, but emotionally as well, as was proven by her act of intimacy she had shared with him a few nights before.

  Bridgette remembered the pain, even now. She remembered throwing up and then – it was black. But oh, so painful. When she regained consciousness, Abigail was there to provide every answer to Bridgette's questions. And there were many. Bridgette seemed to have guessed some of the answers, but others she didn't know until just then. Like the fact that she and Marcus had both consensually made love on a full moon, which was what triggered the transformation process in Bridgette. Because her mind was ready to accept being transformed, her body decided to follow through and change. She also realized that a mark itself could not make people love one another, not even two we
rewolves. There had to be a strong underlying attraction between both the male and the female which was why when werewolves chose mates, they chose mates for life. It was too hard to find someone that caused such a stir in body chemistry, but instinctually, once a wolf had found his or her mate, they lost themselves in the process and just let go.

  Their voices woke a sleeping Marcus, - currently using the foot of the bed as a pillow - and when he found out that Bridgette was all right and that she would survive, he smiled. Full on, one hundred percent, canine teeth and everything smile. His whole entire face lit up and as he was about to sweep Bridgette up in his arms, he was stopped by Abigail who had stepped in front of him.

  "Sorry, but she's incredibly weak," Abigail explained. "No strenuous physical activity, and no offense sir, but due to your overwhelming strength, your hugs would be considered strenuous."

  It stopped Marcus from hugging her, but he weaseled around Abigail and took a seat next to Bridgette, gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, and for a long moment, the two sat there silently. No words were spoken, but none was needed.

  Within the next couple of days, Bridgette ate as much as she could put down. The transformation had heightened her metabolism, and it was necessary that she digest as much food as possible in the next few days to gain her strength. On the third day, when she felt stronger, Abigail drew her bath which was where she was at that moment. She had been in there for at least forty-five minutes, but she was trying to rest her plaguing thoughts. The only thing that was important was the fact that she would be with Marcus for the rest of her life.

  Now all she had to do was tell him that she loved him.

  While Bridgette was in the bathtub, Marcus was pacing up and down the floors of his bedroom, waiting as patiently as he could for Bridgette to get out. He had so much that he wanted – needed – to tell her. It had been a few days since the two had actually had a conversation that consisted of more than a few words, and he wasn't sure how Bridgette was responding to being a werewolf. She couldn't go back now. Marcus was worried that the transformation yielded negative effects and that she wanted to return to being human, her feelings towards him resulting in anger and resentment. He tried to ask Abigail what Bridgette's reaction had been so far, but Abigail repeated the same thing over and over again: "It is not my place to tell."