“He could have bargained for more,” Matthew replied, wearily, as if they’d already been over this ground. “He could’ve demanded that we let him go. Had all of you wait out of easy range with a running car parked right next to him, to give him a chance to actually get away.”
Huh. Not the worst idea, and I kind of wished I’d thought of it. Not that Dor’s freaky subatomic passages through spacetime would’ve made a car particularly viable as an escape plan.
“You were too close to dying. There wasn’t time for a bunch of bargaining. He had to save you and take his chances, or not save you and take his chances. And if you’d died, Ian would’ve ripped his head off either way. So saving your life was his only shot.”
Matthew just sighed in answer to that, and there was silence for a minute. I used the time to evaluate my condition. My magic hadn’t regenerated much, which was worrying. I felt nearly as drained as I had right after healing him. And — shit, I could also feel the effects of my spell again. Not as strongly as before, but without enough magic to use to balance it out, the pull to Matthew was back.
I was probably drained, I realized as I reached out with my magical senses, because of the draining spell someone had put on me while I was asleep.
Well, fuck.
I reached out a little more, trying to explore its contours. It wasn’t terribly subtle, and it felt like normal human magic — that is, I was sure it wasn’t Dor’s work, because his magic was bizarre. If human, or human-like, magic was plain white bread, Dor’s was some kind of fruitcake with sardine-flavored jelly beans in it.
Nate, then. Which meant I had to be able to break it. Except that with my magic at a minimum, that would be difficult…ugh. It definitely wasn’t as strong or as inescapable as Dor’s manacles, and I would be able to work on it eventually, but it was going to do the job for now.
A throat cleared loudly. “I can feel you fucking with my spell,” Nate said. “I know you’re awake. Stop playing possum.”
I opened my eyes and rolled onto my side. Matthew was sitting up propped against the headboard on the other side of the bed, with Nate straddling a backwards chair a couple of feet away. Matthew looked like himself again, his color normal and his wounds completely healed, and he’d changed his tattered shirt. He still had a few redwood needles in his hair, though.
Which reminded me of how gritty and filthy I was, stinking of sour sweat and blood. Was there any chance of a real bath in this place? The Armitage pack house was like the roach motel of places to be held prisoner.
“Where’s your worse half?” I asked Nate. “Off grunting at small animals?”
“Ian prefers to grunt at large animals,” Matthew said blandly. “More of a challenge when they grunt back.”
I forced a yawn, trying to cover my helpless choke of laughter. Damn Matthew for getting under my guard like that.
Nate frowned, but his eyes were alight. “He’s trying to play catch-up on that asshole Parker’s pack, figure out how many of them are in the neighborhood, and decide what to do next. You’re welcome, by the way. Since, you know, they’re only here because of you.”
I pushed up on my elbows so I could glare at Nate more effectively. “And I’m only here instead of bleeding on Parker’s knot because you have a use for me, so don’t act like you’re some big hero. You wouldn’t give a fuck what happened to me otherwise. And if you’d just let me go in the first place, he never would’ve come here at all!”
“Would you give a fuck what happened to you if you were us?” Nate had gone bright red, and his dark eyes flashed with anger. “What part of I’m not joining your fan club is so fucking hard for you to understand?”
I’d spent as little time as possible near Hawthorne Senior, just like anyone else with a functioning brain and sense of self-preservation, but I’d picked up a few things. The night he’d kidnapped his own son and planned to suck all his magic out of him had been particularly illuminating.
“I don’t have a fan club. Fan clubs are for teenage losers.” I batted my eyelashes at him and, with malicious pleasure, watched him turn even redder. “But either way, you don’t have to put posters of me on your wall with hearts drawn on them with your favorite pink glitter pen to, I don’t know, not drain my magic for your own purposes? Isn’t this a little bit like father, like son?”
The color vanished from Nate’s face so quickly I could practically hear the blood whooshing south. “How do you know about that?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
But he had a secure, rock-solid place in a pack that would protect him, no questions asked — and yeah, they were the Kroger store-brand of packs. But they still had fighters like Ian, or Matthew. A council. Allies like Fenwick and Dor.
He wasn’t alone in the world, and he could go fuck himself with his self-pity. I was sure it was big enough to give him a good ride.
“Everyone knows what a pathetic wuss you are, Nate. Letting your father use you like that.” I doubted almost anyone knew, actually, but the more off-balance he was, the less likely he was to be able to maintain that fucking spell he had on me. “What kind of warlock just hands his power over to someone, much less a psychopath like that? I mean, even I think he was a psychopath. What does that say about you, following him around like a whipped dog your whole life?”
“Arik, that’s enough,” Matthew said sharply.
“Fuck you.” Nate stood abruptly, knocking the chair to the wood floor with a clatter and a thud. “I didn’t have any choice, okay?”
The pull of his spell was weakening, and I could feel my magic starting to regenerate. Come on, come on…it wasn’t fast enough. By the time he got hold of himself again, I’d only have enough to maybe try to knock out either him or Matthew, and I had to be able to get them both at once if I had even the faintest hope of making it out of the room, let alone the house.
“Oh yeah? No choice? You couldn’t walk away? Couldn’t kill him in his sleep?” I remembered some other gossip I’d picked up from listening to Colin’s younger brother Jackson go on and on about people I mostly couldn’t give a shit about. “Couldn’t do something, anything, other than spread your legs for your mate’s cousin —”
“Shut up!” Nate cried, and now he looked like he was on the verge of tears.
Matthew moved so fast I couldn’t dodge; he flipped me onto my back and slapped a hand over my mouth, hard. “I said enough.”
I stared up at him, holding perfectly still, not fighting him at all. His blue eyes were cold, filled with nothing but contempt.
You fought for me, I wanted to say. You fought and nearly died for me, and then I saved your life. Doesn’t that count for anything?
Good thing he was keeping me from talking, because if I had said any of that, I’d have had to kill myself out of sheer self-disgust.
I didn’t need to talk, though. I needed to act. Because Nate’s control had slipped, and my magic was flowing back along the spell’s conduit.
Matthew’s hand on my mouth was warm, the skin firm and callused. I needed him distracted too. I parted my lips as much as I could under his grip, slipped my tongue between them, and teased his palm with it.
His eyes widened and his whole body stiffened. Now that I had all my senses, I could feel his arousal through my own spell: it took him over, making him want with every cell in his body.
He wanted to hold me down and knot me, he wanted to bite me and make me his mate. He wanted me to writhe in pleasure under him…
I shivered and moved the tip of my tongue in a little circle, like I would have on the head of his cock. Matthew let out a quiet, gut-punched sound — would that be what he sounded like when he came?
Fuck, it didn’t matter, and I didn’t care.
My magic wasn’t quite there, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I wouldn’t get another chance like this. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nate standing there, breathing hard, his hands over his face. Maybe he was crying. Maybe he wa
s getting his shit together.
Either way, I didn’t have long.
So I struck out while the striking was good, hitting them both with a wave of as much magic as I could gather up at once.
Matthew jerked like he’d been electrocuted, every one of his muscles going rigid. I pushed up with all my physical strength and shoved him off, sending him tumbling over me and off the bed onto the floor.
I lurched to my feet, throwing what little power I had left at Nate, who’d stumbled to his knees in my first attack. I wrenched at the spell between us, pulling not just my own magic through it but his, too, as much as I could grasp, like strands of yarn on a broken loom, catching and pulling and tangling.
My magic looked like deep reds and purples, shifting and shadowy. His was mostly blue, shot through with strands of gold. It might’ve been pretty if I wasn’t fighting for my life.
And I nearly won. Nate cried out and fell to the floor on his side, gasping for air, his hands flailing reflexively as he tried to seize back control of his magic and of mine.
I was so sure I had him, and I got greedy; the thought of taking something of his with me, of strengthening myself at his expense after what he’d put me through, was more than I could resist.
I pulled harder, tearing at the core of his magic, stripping him bare.
And what I revealed wasn’t the soft, pulsing magic of a weak man, but the granite resistance of someone who’d already lost too much and wasn’t going to lose what little he had left.
I smacked into his magical core like hitting a brick wall. Reeling back, dizzied, I lost control, all of our magic spiraling around us like streamers in a gale.
“No,” I heard from — inside my head? Through my ears? I wasn’t sure. But then I heard, “Not again!” loud and clear, and it was definitely Nate’s voice.
My head rang, and I staggered for the window. I could still escape. I didn’t have much magic to spare, but neither did he. I tugged the sash up wildly and flung myself halfway through. I’d have enough strength to cushion my fall. I’d shift, I’d run, and they didn’t know my real scent, because I’d spent years layering myself with enchantments to cover it up even when my magic was temporarily out of commission. They’d lose my trail in the woods.
A huge, heavy arm came out of nowhere and wrapped around my waist, jerking me away from the window and plastering my back against a broad chest.
I struggled wildly, screaming and striking out at anything I could reach. Matthew caught my arms and pinned my wrists in front of me.
The fight went out of me like air from a balloon.
I was done. I’d tried, and I’d failed — and I’d lost. Again. As I slumped in Matthew’s grasp, Nate’s spell settled back into place and what little magic I’d had drained away again like shower water swirling out of the tub.
Matthew was breathing heavily. I could hear Nate, too, rasping for air and shuffling to his feet.
My eyes squeezed shut. I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of crying. I wasn’t even sure I remembered how, anyway.
“Is your spell working again yet?” Matthew asked, sounding strained. Yeah, the effort of holding me still and also keeping a handle on the erection prodding my lower back was probably getting to him, the fucker.
“Yeah,” Nate gasped. “Yeah, it’s working. You can let him go.” Matthew didn’t move a muscle. “Or, you know, not, if that’s what floats your boat.”
“Go find Ian,” Matthew said, every word vibrating through me. “He’ll have felt that through your mate bond. Let him know you’re all right.”
“I’m fine, and I’m sure Ian will show up —”
“Go find Ian,” Matthew repeated through gritted teeth.
There was a short pause. Matthew still didn’t move. His fingers around my wrists were as hard and unyielding as Dor’s manacles, and his grip was just shy of hurting me. Of course, I could heal now, so he could be as rough as he wanted without leaving marks that would last more than a couple of hours at most…I swallowed hard.
“Oh,” Nate said. “Oh. Um. Much as I’d like to not see whatever it is you’re thinking about doing right now? Like, less than I’ve ever wanted to see anything in my life? Ian and I aren’t crazy about leaving you alone with him. Partly because of the stuff I don’t want to see.”
“Get out, Nate. Or I’m going to throw you out.”
I wondered how he was going to do that if he wasn’t planning on letting go of me — but then again, now I’d seen him fight. He could probably pull it off if anyone could.
I didn’t even know if I wanted him to get Nate to leave. I couldn’t stand the thought of looking Nate in the eye, not after losing to him again. Again. Like the first time hadn’t been humiliating enough. Now I knew he could match me, and it wasn’t a fluke.
On the other hand, the last time I’d been alone with Matthew in this room he’d nearly — and I realized, abruptly, that I simply didn’t care. He could fuck me. He could bite me. I’d be able to throw the mate bond off eventually. Probably. And in the meantime — what the fuck did it matter, anyway? It was him or Parker, it looked like, and given that binary, I’d play happy mates with Matthew until the end of time.
With some more grumbling under his breath, Nate finally left the room, shutting the door a little too hard behind him. I heard the quiet murmur of voices as he checked in with whoever was on guard outside the door.
And then it was just me and Matthew.
Chapter 10
You Always Have a Choice
Slowly, carefully, Matthew let go of my wrists and loosened the arm around me. I stood pliant, not fighting and not moving and not — anything at all. I didn’t have anything more in me.
He turned me in his arms. I leaned back against the wall, letting the cool breeze from the open window fan my burning cheeks and ruffle my long hair. It felt good. If I left my eyes closed I could almost pretend I was outside, somewhere far away from anywhere, somewhere no one could find me.
There was a huge boulder on a hill near where I’d lived as a kid, during those few years when everything was more or less all right. While my brother worked nights as a security guard, I’d shift and run out there, scrambling up to the top to gaze down at the world spread out beneath me. It was just a run-of-the-mill small town in northeastern Oregon, but it was my domain, and I’d stand there and let the wind rustle through my hair, or my fur, depending on whether I’d shifted or not, and feel the Earth turning beneath my feet. Just me and the stars.
It was quiet in this room, too, except for Matthew’s breaths. They were slow and even again. He was calm, and it was almost soothing.
“Earlier today,” he said quietly, and then stopped. He sighed. “Earlier today. Arik, will you look at me?”
His hands still rested on my waist, but he wasn’t holding me in place, just — holding me. My shirt had ridden up when he grabbed me, and his fingers pressed against the bare strip of my skin that had been exposed. His skin was hot, especially in comparison to the damp chill flowing through the window. The air smelled like rain, fresh and wild. Matthew smelled like the forest after a rain, earthy and even wilder — even a little dangerous.
“I’d rather not.” My voice was small, like every bit of me was trying to shrink into nothing and disappear.
“Please.”
I shook my head. What would I see if I looked at him? Nothing good. Nothing that would make me feel any better.
The air between us shifted, and I felt his breath on my forehead as he leaned down. “Arik,” he said, almost a whisper. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
I didn’t quite have the energy to laugh; it came out more of a heave of my chest and a sigh. “Sure.”
“You don’t.” He gave me a gentle shake. “Earlier today I told you that you always have a choice. What you said to Nate…you were out of line there. You know you were, right? You shouldn’t have said that shit to him. I’d think you’d have some sympathy if anyone would.”
Th
at hit home, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Yeah, maybe in a different universe I wouldn’t have needed every weapon I could possibly put in my arsenal to survive. In that one I’d have been out of line for hitting Nate, with his admittedly fucked-up past, exactly where it hurt. But I didn’t regret it. I only regretted that it hadn’t worked.
And maybe I also regretted that I’d made Matthew hate me even more by saying it. He might be trying a different tactic with me now, softness rather than aggression, but his expression as he’d gazed down at me after I taunted Nate was going to stay in my head for a long time. I doubted he was feeling much kinder now that I’d attacked both of them and tried to escape. His loyalty was to Nate, and it made me ache somewhere deep inside. Matthew was capable of that kind of loyalty, of that kind of affection and understanding — why couldn’t he extend a little bit of that to me?
Right, because I’d put him under a love spell and betrayed him.
Matthew sighed again, a deep one this time, and waited. When it was clear my mouth was shut, he went on with, “Look, I’m not saying you were right, but…maybe I was wrong. Partly. A little bit.”
An alpha admitting when he was wrong, even if it was the most half-assed admission I’d ever heard? I cracked an eye open and peeked at him. He’d bent down so close to me that our faces were almost touching. And he was just — looking at me, his gaze steady. Like he had nothing better to do than see me. Like I was worth looking at, and not just the parts of me that he might want to fuck.
That shook me down to the very core. The only parts of me safe to reveal were right there on the surface. The rest of it…the rest of it couldn’t be examined, brought out into the daylight. It wasn’t safe. He wasn’t safe. I couldn’t let him be something safe, not if I wanted to get out of this intact and as self-sufficient as I had to be to survive.
“You’re going to need to be more specific, asshole,” I managed. “You were wrong about a lot of things today.”
The corners of his lips turned down, and he sighed. “What you said to Nate was unfair. He didn’t have a choice. Or at least — all of his choices were bad, and possibly even suicidal. And it made me think about our conversation from before. I think I was unfair to you, too.”
Captive Mate (Mismatched Mates Book 2) Page 9