Chapter 7 - Lena

I knew that not seeing my father at the reception had to be too good to be true. The night was stressful enough without worrying about him as well, and I was grateful he made himself scarce. Kelly made her presence known, sucking up to Jack's family. She didn't make any effort to directly bother me, though.

I was grateful for that, too. Until now.

Obviously, they had this surprise cooking for me for quite some time.

He will never miss a chance to hurt me. Ever.

So, when I see Father standing out in front of the very special tent that has been prepared just for us, I know that not seeing him all evening is not the blessing I thought it was. He's been planning a far worse torture for me.

Jack glares at Father, and all he gets in return is a snarky grin. I know this look. Father gets particularly pleased with himself when he's planned a perfect trap for someone—usually me.

My heart is starting to pound faster, and my palms are getting sweaty. The shock of seeing him standing there is starting to manifest into full-blown terror.

What more can he want from me? Do I even have any dignity left?

"I told you to move along," Jack says. His voice is very controlled, and I know he's having trouble keeping his cool.

"And I told you, I can't do that," Father answers. "Our family has a lot invested in this marriage, and if it isn't consummated, it's not official. I'm afraid I just can't take that chance."

Oh, Jesus! Fuck, no!

"What?" Jack hisses. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Jack flexes his arms a little as he clenches his fists. I'm sure he isn't even aware that he's doing it. Father looks him up and down, and his grin widens a little.

"I am not going anywhere until I am satisfied that the bond has been fully sanctified." He uses a low tone, somehow making the last word sound dirty. "It's tradition for the parents of the couple to observe the consummation."

"It's an ancient tradition!" Jack snaps. "No one has followed this rule for at least fifty years. Why would you think it's appropriate now?"

"Well, maybe in your pack, they didn't," Father replies. "But in ours, they do."

"They do not," I choke out. "You're lying!"

"How would you know." Father gives me one of those withering looks that make me feel extremely stupid. "You've never been to a pack wedding."

He's right, I haven't. I'm starting to panic. I have no idea how to get out of this. Even though it's our big day, I hadn't really thought about what was going to happen with Jack after the reception.

Consummation. Makes it sound like a business contract.

The idea of being naked in front of Jack, having him touch me—and the rest—freaks me out so badly I can't breathe. Father being outside the tent listening, maybe even watching, makes me feel like I'm about to faint.

"Look," Jack says. "I will not allow this. I don't care if it's tradition in your pack. It certainly isn't in mine."

I can tell he's struggling to keep his voice even. Refusing to consummate, as well as beating the shit out of the father of the bride, would definitely make it look like the Silver Meadows Pack aren't taking the alliance seriously.

"This isn't about your pack," Father says. "You are becoming a part of our pack, so you should uphold our traditions."

Even though Father sounds pretty confident, when Jack takes one long step towards him, he pales. The smirk disappears from his face, and his eyes go wide.

"I told you to move." Jack's voice is very low. He puts a hand on Father's arm and gives him a little shove. "I will not be allowing this ancient and outdated tradition to occur, and I will call a meeting of all the elders right here and now if I have to."

Father gulps, looking up at Jack. He doesn't avoid his stare, but it's obvious that he's backing down.

"Okay," Father mutters, moving away a few steps. "I won't sit right outside the tent, if you're going to be so sensitive about it. But you still have to sleep together in this tent before you return to your own pack. There needs to be some commitment to tradition."

Jack frowns as if he's going to protest some more. Father shoots me a look, and his eyes are so cold it feels like a dart hitting me in the chest.

What will he do to Sam?

"It's okay," I say quickly. I reach over and grab Jack's hand, pulling him away from Father a bit. "I think that's a good compromise. Members of both packs will be here all night, and there will be multiple witnesses to attest we didn't leave the tent. We'll stay, and we'll do our duty."

Jack grips my hand a little tighter and glances at me. I can't read his eyes, but he still looks pretty upset. I look over at Father, hoping that I've given enough to appease him for now.

He smiles, and it's the charming, warm grin that he uses when he's fleecing someone. It's horrible how easily he can manipulate people, even convince them he's helping them when he's actually robbing him blind.

"I think that will do fine," he says. "I won't be far away."

Jack frowns and goes to say something else, but I squeeze his hand hard and walk towards the tent. He looks over his shoulder once more, as if he's checking that Father really is walking away, then follows me.

I'm surprised that he gave in so easily, but maybe he is trying to make this easier for me. I know it took a lot of restraint on Jack's part to hold back from a serious argument or even a fight, and I'm grateful for it.

Once Sam graduates, then things can change. Father can be exposed and punished for everything he's done. I just can't do it while my brother is in the crossfire.

When I reach the tent, I let go of Jack's hand to slip through the flap. Letting go of him leaves a little ache in me. It was nice to touch him, even if it was just holding his hand.

I crawl into the tent and sit down on a pile of cushions. There is a small lamp glowing in the corner, and the floor has been covered with a soft mattress and lots of pillows. Someone certainly went to a bit of effort to make sure we'd be comfortable.

I bet it wasn't Father.

After a couple of seconds, Jack crawls into the tent. He looks tense, and I'm pretty sure I know why.

He doesn't want me. It's his wedding night, and he feels nothing for his new bride.

He sits down next to me, and I almost reach for his hand again. It felt so good to hang on to him. I know it was an illusion, though. We were being watched. He had to play along.

Maybe Father wasn't entirely out of line.

I can only squeeze light, shallow breaths into my lungs. The silence is stretching out between us, turning into a singing point of tension that is so intense, I feel like all my hairs are standing on end.

When Jack shifts his weight a little, I actually jump. He turns to me, and his expression is blank. I don't see lust there, or even longing. Just a horrible awkwardness.

He has no idea what to do with me.

"Look, I know this isn't an ideal situation," I say, my voice raspy with fear. "For either of us. But obviously, it has to happen, so why don't you just get it over with?"

"What?" Jack asks. His eyes have gone wide with surprise.

"Just do it," I mutter, my voice getting stronger. "I don't want to wait around stressing about it. And for all we know, Father is out there somewhere listening to us. Just do it, okay?"

Even though my words are brave, I'm starting to tremble. I hope Jack hasn't noticed.

"Lena," Jack says my name gently, like he's soothing a frightened horse. "Are you really still a virgin?"

A sharp pain cuts through my chest, and I close my eyes against the sudden bitter tears that sting my eyes.

I knew it! He thinks I'm inexperienced. He doesn't like me, and he obviously doesn't waste his time with virgins!

I have to take a couple of breaths to compose myself before I turn back to answer him. He's looking right at me, his eyes wide and dark in the low light. I'm glad the lamp is dim—I don't want to see his disgust or his disapproval.

"Don't worry about me," I snap at him. "I can take it. Use me however you want—whatever you need to get the job done. Don't be gentle. I don't even care."

I keep my eyes down so I don't have to look into his face. I imagine it will take some effort for him to get together enough arousal to get hard for a woman he doesn't even want. He should know that it makes no difference to me what he does.

Even if I'm terrified out of my fucking mind!

I hear Jack take a breath, and I look up into his face. Mercifully, I still can't read his expression.

"I want you to know one thing though," I make every word slow and purposeful. I try and keep my eyes completely focused on his, so he knows how serious I am.

"Yes?" he asks, softly.

"You need to know that you can have my body, but you can never have my heart!" Even though I've tried to stay calm, my voice is rising, and I can't help it. "I gave my heart—my everything!—to you once, and you didn't want it. Now, I know you've been forced to accept my body, but that doesn't mean I have to give you my heart. I will never offer it to you again!"

Cold tears are tracing my cheeks, and I wipe at them with one hand, hoping Jack doesn't see. I know it's only a matter of moments now before he takes me, and I have no idea what to expect.

Will it hurt? Will it feel good? How long will it last? Should I get undressed?

The silence deepens in the tent, and my fear rises with each passing second.

Why doesn't he say anything? Is he going to reject me again?