Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2)

by Veronica Del Rosa

  Before Derek could respond, Victor teleported out, leaving him alone. Stunned, he concentrated on breathing, his chest tight with emotions. His mind whirled with possibilities, the first and foremost claiming his lifemate. Shit, he couldn’t just go in there, tell her they’re lifemates. She’d tell him off and rightfully so.

  Romance her, yeah. He could do that… couldn’t he?

  Aw damn, he had no idea how to do this. He hadn’t been with another woman since he met Sylvia, refusing to sully the sanctity of their bond. She was the only one he’d wanted. Others didn’t compare to the bright, shining flame that was Sylvia.

  What did women like? Flowers, chocolates and jewelry. Now, what did Sylvia like? She wasn’t a fan of flowers. She always claimed they just died and adding in her black thumb, it was cruel – to the flowers. Jewelry was pointless as it got in the way of her Enforcer duties. Plus, she didn’t have any piercings, unlike him. Many thought the silver earrings they wore burned them and caused a considerable amount of pain.

  Werewolves liked to maintain the charade, but the truth was they were specialty earrings made solely for them. The earrings had a very light coating of silver where they entered the flesh, enough to keep the holes open but not enough to cause a bad burn. It was more of a mild discomfort that was effortless to push to the back of the mind. Also, it didn’t make sense to burn one’s lover if they, too, happened to be a werewolf.

  That left chocolate. She loved it but in small amounts. The theobromine found in chocolate caused health problems in werewolves for the same reason it was deadly to dogs. The alkaloid didn’t metabolize properly and acted as a stimulant for them. He knew some who ate chocolate the same way humans drank coffee, but he didn’t like the out-of-control feeling.

  On second thought, chocolates didn’t seem like such a great idea. He paced, wondering what to get her. It shouldn’t be this difficult to figure out what she liked.

  He’d spent decades with her. What did she do during her time off? Watch movies with the pack, play video games, read. Wait, that’s it. Books. She liked to pilfer from his thriller and suspense collection.

  With a plan in place, he strode to the house, opened the back door and stopped dead. Sylvia waited for him in the kitchen. He’d expected her to either stay in the sitting room or perhaps to lie down for a bit in her room. A room that he’d put right next to his, naturally.

  “Oh, hello. I’m going out for a little bit. Maybe you’d like to rest for a while or watch TV. There’s one with satellite in the entertainment room.” He shut up when he realized he was rambling.

  She knew where the TV was. She’d been coming to his house for the past several decades. It wasn’t a secret. Damn, he felt like an awkward teenager around his first crush. Hard to believe he was over two centuries old the way he was acting.

  She smiled at him, and he drank up the sight of her. When he’d chosen the t-shirt and jeans, he’d done so knowing she’d be spectacular in them. The bright purple showed off the creamy white of her skin, and the jeans molded to her long, luscious legs. Have mercy, her legs were incredible. He wanted to lick every inch of them, nibble on her thighs and then spend a few hours between them.

  The hard throbbing between his own legs reminded him he was to gently pursue her, not act like a cat in heat. She deserved respect.

  The doorbell ringing broke the awkward silence, and he nearly sighed in relief. He wasn’t sure how to react around Sylvia. He didn’t want to treat her like glass, and he certainly didn’t want to continue with their previous friendly relationship.

  Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, he strode to the front door and tried to relax.

  Without looking through the peephole, he opened the door, and a huge basket of flowers greeted him.

  “Flower delivery. Please sign here,” the delivery guy recited in a monotone.

  Derek signed, assuming a pack member had sent them for Sylvia. They certainly wouldn’t send him flowers. After he took the basket, he glanced at the other man but couldn’t get a good look at him. Cap pulled low over his eyes, he hurried back to his truck, not even waiting for a tip. The smaller gate stayed unlocked during the day, allowing deliveries and guests to stop by. At night, they locked it tight.

  Derek inhaled deeply, wondering if anyone had tampered with the flowers, but they smelled like flowers. There was no underlying taint or suspicious scent.

  Turning, he almost bumped into Sylvia. He was so far off into his own world, worrying, he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. Hell, he’d actually blocked out Sylvia’s movements, something he never thought was possible.

  “These are for you.” He handed the bouquet to her and spied a card hiding amongst the flowers. “Ah, a card.”

  “Can you read it, please?” she said, her hands full with the flowers, and nodded towards the white square. Derek plucked it out and Sylvia turned away. “Just finding a spot for these.”

  His eyes followed her as she sashayed into the sitting room then bent over to place the basket on the table. He nearly forgot what he was doing as he enjoyed the view.

  Oh right, card.

  “It says ‘Feel better. Can’t wait to see you again.’ And there’s no name attached to it,” he said as he flipped it over, checking for anything more than the short message.

  Finding nothing else, he handed it to her and felt a small jolt of electricity when their fingers brushed. He ignored it, used to the surge of desire he felt whenever he touched her.

  “That’s odd. Why wouldn’t they sign it?” She moved away from the flowers and opened one of the windows. Keeping her eyes averted, she said, “Sorry, the smell is a little strong.”

  “No problem. Whatever makes you comfortable.” He didn’t want her to feel any distress while in his home.

  He hoped one day it would be their home. He’d bought it with her in mind, even had her help decorate it, and wanted to fill it with their children. Those dreams had slowly died over the years as she showed no interest in being his mate. A deep ache throbbed in his chest and he rubbed at it. Could he win her, or was he resigned to a life without the woman he loved?

  “Derek.” Sylvia whispered his name, pain swimming in her eyes and reached out to him. Before she touched him, she dropped her hand and stepped away. She shook her head and forced a smile. “I’ll be upstairs.”

  He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as he nodded.

  Stop whining about what you don’t have. You’re an Alpha, not a child, he thought, disgusted with his weakness. Winning Sylvia meant showing her the benefits of being his mate. He’d protect her as she protected him. She’d have more power within the pack as an Alpha’s mate, more importantly, his mate. Derek had moved out of the sexist era decades ago. Women had held dominant positions within his pack long before other packs adopted the practice. Having a Top Alpha for a mother had showed him the resilience and strength women possessed.

  With those thoughts, he exited his house and pulled out his cell. As he stalked towards the gate, he scrolled through his contact list and found his mother’s number. He hit talk. One, two, three rings before she picked up.

  “Mama, we’ve found her.” Derek forgot the niceties she liked him to observe. He was too excited to have Sylvia home, especially since he could now work towards claiming her.

  The shout of joy on the other end voiced exactly how he felt. “My son, I’m so happy to hear that! Is she alright? Have they hurt her?”

  “She’s fine physically. She’s healed. But I don’t know what they did. It’s too soon for her to talk about it.” He hesitated, wondering if he should discuss the next part with her. He should’ve realized his mother knew him too well.

  “What else, Derek? You’re holding something back. What?” Power curled around her words, reminding him why she’d held Alpha status for so long.

  “She’s my lifemate, Mama,” he forced out.

  “I know that, son. Does that mean you’re finally going to do something about it?” He wasn’t o
verly shocked she knew. She had a way of sniffing out secrets.

  “Yes, Mama. I am. I’m going to convince her to be mine.” He smiled, feeling a heavy weight lift from his chest.

  “I don’t think you’ll have to work too hard at convincing her. After all, you’re my son. Any woman would be proud to have you as a mate.” His mother’s love soothed him. “Now go, take care of my future daughter-in-law.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Zayler. And you must be Sylvia.” A gentle smile accompanied his words, one meant to put her at ease. It didn’t work.

  With a shaky smile of her own, she said, “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. The Coterie felt it was important for me to see a…therapist as soon as possible.”

  While Mara and Roan had no real jurisdiction over her, they’d made it quite clear she wouldn’t return to duty until the shrink cleared her. Aaron would listen to their recommendations, sidelining her like a lame wolf.

  “Please, have a seat.” Dr. Zayler gestured to one of the chairs as he moved to sit in the opposite one.

  Instead of the stereotypical couches seen in movies, he had two comfortable looking chairs facing each other. A small coffee table sat in the middle of them with a tray holding a pitcher of water and two glasses.

  She stared at the chair for a moment. If she sat, it was an implied agreement to talk, wasn’t it? A beginning of a professional relationship, one she didn’t want. But one she needed.

  Sylvia sat, her eyes averted from his. The scrutiny was too much to bare. He’d dig past her barriers and leave her vulnerable. Her mind, the one place the scientists hadn’t touched, exposed to this stranger.

  Her finger trembled as she traced the pattern of stitches on the chair’s arm. The heavy thudding of her heart drowned out everything else.

  No aggression. Don’t make eye contact. He won’t hurt you if you don’t anger him.

  She blew out an unsteady breath. Her career depended on this, talking to Dr. Zayler.

  “I agree with them. As this is the preliminary meeting, it’s shorter than usual. Gives me a chance to assess your needs, and we’ll go from there. You suffered a terrible experience, and it’s best to talk about it. Learn how to cope with the trauma. Would you like to talk about what happened?”

  Eyes down, she hesitantly shook her head. Spilling the horror of those months, reliving the pain they inflicted…she couldn’t. The mental wounds still bled, raw and exposed. A hard lump formed in her throat, and a sheen of sweat slicked her palms.

  Would he punish her for refusing to talk? The scientists never asked her questions, but they expected complete obedience. Arms wrapped around her stomach, she shrank into the chair.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Sylvia, this is a safe place. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Saying no is your right. You have control, not me,” he spoke softly, as if he was a thought inside her head instead of an intrusion.

  “Can you…” she trailed off, worried her request would make her sound crazy.

  “What would you like me to do?”

  She glanced upwards, dredging up her faltering courage. Damn those bastards for what they’d done to her. “Can you please open the windows? I need fresh air.”

  Without question, Dr. Zayler strode to the large picture window behind his desk. Gauzy curtains covered the sheets of glass, allowing in light but giving privacy. They billowed in the cold breeze when he opened the window a crack.

  Sylvia’s gaze wandered around, memorizing the entire room. One exit, not including the window, and it led to the outer office where the receptionist sat. A sixty-gallon saltwater fish tank was to the left of the door, taking up most of the wall. The colourful fish – groupers, clownfish, angelfish, butterflies and several she couldn’t name – darted amongst the coral. Kelp and red algae waved in the water, and bubbles flowed from the air pump.

  She tore her eyes from the hypnotic tank to wonder over the bookshelves. If she didn’t have access to Derek’s library at home, she would’ve had serious book envy. Two walls across from the door and to the right were covered with bookshelves. Different genres competed for space – murder mystery, fantasy, romance, non-fiction, textbooks and so many more. She could’ve spent hours just browsing through his collection. Too bad that wasn’t what she was here for.

  A subtle throat clearing reminded her Dr. Zayler had asked her a question. She focused back on him. He was a gentle-looking man with stark white hair and kind blue eyes. While shorter than her, his quiet personality filled the room.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “It’s been four days since your rescue. Have you spent time with your pack?”

  “They’re hard to avoid,” she said, ducking her head again. Shame heated her cheeks. They were concerned about her welfare, and she wanted to avoid them. “Always coming over, asking me how I’m feeling. They’re treating me like I’m broken or dead. And the touching. Constant touching.”

  “Isn’t that important for werewolves? The reassurance of touch?” His tone stayed even, but she heard recrimination in it.

  Defensively, she said, “I don’t want to be touched.”

  “And that’s fine. I wasn’t trying to imply anything else. I just want to understand. I’ve had several dealings with werewolves, and each have told me that physical contact helped to ground them. It aided their healing.”

  With a jerky nod, she replied, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. You’re right, it is important to us.”

  “I have an exercise for you. With trusted members, allow them to initiate physical contact. Count to three before you pull away. Increase the count each time. It’ll help you become comfortable with it again. Your pack doesn’t want to hurt you. Let them help heal you.”

  “Okay, I’ll try that.”

  “For now, I want you to come see me every day. My receptionist will set up the appointments with you, as I’m hopeless with all that. Once we see some improvement, we can scale back the sessions.” He stood up and Sylvia followed suit.

  After she spoke to the receptionist, Sylvia stepped out of Dr. Zayler’s office and squinted at the bright sun. She shivered as the bitter wind sliced through her thin jacket before her internal temperature rose to combat the cold. A hand grabbed her arm, and she flinched before freezing.

  Don’t show weakness. Don’t fight back. It hurts more to fight back. These thoughts slammed into her mind, forcing her back into the small cage of pain. Her narrow existence of torture and despair. Muscles tensed as she waited. Was her reprieve over?

  “Hey, glad to see they found you.” A male with a pleasant smile circled around. “I’d heard about your rescue. Took Derek long enough, huh?”

  Fear drained from her. Not scientists or guards. Another werewolf curious about her. She cocked her head to the side as she studied him. He wasn’t part of the Toronto pack and yet he was familiar. While pleasant looking, he had the air of someone used to obedience in others.

  He reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek. She flinched away from his touch and he laughed, a cold sound without humour.

  “Do I know you?” She took a step back, needing space between them.

  “Oh sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Shawn, Alpha of the Belleville area. And you’re Sylvia, right?”

  “Yes. Look, I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

  His smile widened, exposing his canines. It should’ve been friendly. Instead, unease crawled through her. A threat. Did he want to harm her? She took another step back and bumped into a solid wall masquerading as a chest. She spun, keeping both men in eyesight. Neither one made a move towards her, simply smiled.

  “I’ll see you later, Sylvia. My timid, little wolf. It’s been…interesting meeting you. Give Derek my regards. Time to go, Sawyer,” Shawn said as he walked away with the other man. They faded into the crowd, and she lost sight of them.

  “Sylvia, sorry I’m late. I hope you weren’t waiting
long.” Zmitro’s comforting voice broke through her distress.

  With a shake of her head she replied, “No, not long at all. I’m ready to go home.”

  The front door opened, and Derek hastily dropped into the chair. He didn’t want Sylvia catching him pacing the floor as he waited for her return. Her first appointment with the therapist was bound to unnerve her. Should he comfort her, ask her how it went or just ignore it? No, he’d follow her lead.

  Sylvia stepped into the room, peeling off her jacket. She tossed it on one of the couches and strode to the window. With a glance over her shoulder, she cracked opened the window. Guilt and shame coloured her features. Derek kept his own blank.

  “Ah good, thanks. It was getting stuffy in here,” he said. He stood and stretched, working out the knots that had formed while he worried over her first appointment. “How was your appointment?”

  Damn it. That’s not following her lead, you idiot. Derek berated himself when she tensed at his words.

  “Fine. It was fine. Just the usual chitchat.” Stiff limbed, she moved to the couch and sat on the arm. “I ran into one of the Alphas. Shawn.”

  “What?” Derek growled. “He approached you?”

  “Yes. Said to send you his regards. He had another guy with him. A few inches above six feet, dark-skinned, brown hair, named Sawyer. Possibly an Alpha as well.”

  He strode away from Sylvia, not wanting to scare her with his anger.

  “I’m going to fucking kill him. Tear that bastard apart. Zmitro!” His voice echoed through the room. Would’ve been better to send a mental message to his second-in-command, except the bellowing released some of his fury.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” Zmitro asked as he jogged down the stairs. “What do you need?”

  “Did you see him? After the appointment, did you see that fucking bastard?” His voice was harsher than he intended.

  Zmitro reared back, and his eyebrows went up. “Who?”

  “Shawn! He talked to Sylvia.”

  “He said hi, that’s it,” she cut in. “He didn’t threaten me or anything. Although he did creep me out.”