Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

K ira

I've seen Cain's wolf form before, but I never appreciated just how large and powerful he really is. He is massive, and he is incredibly agile. Colton's attack looked terrifying at first. Then it became a clumsy, almost clownish thing as Cain simply flowed into his wolf state and took him down.

Now Colton is lying on the ground on his side, whimpering for forgiveness. He doesn't have any of his human bravado. He's all animal now. It's probably the better part of him. Definitely the smarter part.

"Get off my son!"

My aunt comes rushing down what's left of the path and starts hitting Cain with a dish rag. She's not shifting herself. She's just doing the most laughably ineffectual thing possible. Her face is twisted with rage, and her shrieks sound like those of a person who expects to be taken seriously for no apparent reason.

This is the moment I lose the last shred of respect for my aunt, as well as any sense of fear of her. It's strange to see someone I have always been so completely terrified of reduced to an insignificant nobody.

Cain, of course, does not respond. He is making sure he has Colton's submission. Every time Colton tries to move, Cain snarls, until Colton gives up and lays there, unmoving, allowed only the occasional pathetic whimper. Cain barely did anything to him. He didn't have to.

"Let him up! Let him go!"

My aunt tires of flailing her rag and starts kicking Cain instead. My eyes widen, knowing this will not end well. I'm so ashamed of her and of what passes for my family. All she had to do was act halfway sane, but she couldn't be bothered to try. She's insane and she's always been insane. It's just that I never saw her compared to somebody who was reasonable and rational. She's always been the queen of my inner world, the demon who haunts my family life. She's been the beginning and the end of everything, defining the boundaries of my existence.

But now she just looks like an unhinged maniac with no power whatsoever, and I don't understand why I ever gave her any—besides the fact that she raised me from a baby and made my very survival dependent on pleasing her and agreeing to see the world in all the same ways she saw it.

Cain ignores her kicks. They make no more of an impression on him than a fly would butting against an elephant. First he waited Colton out, and now he is letting her tire herself out. He could easily kill her for this disrespect, but he is patient, and he is letting things run their course for my benefit, I think.

Colton shifts back into his human form and lies cowering in the dirt, covering his face and neck with his hands, shivering from head to toe. Just when I thought things couldn't get any more pathetic, they do.

Cain allows Colton to scramble out from under him. Colton runs to his mother as fast as he can, bolting past her to hide indoors. I wouldn't be surprised if he never showed his face again.

"Never speak to me or my son again!" My aunt shrieks the words.

She tries to storm back into the house, but Cain is not having that. He slips back into his human form which means he is now standing stark naked in my aunt's filthy yard. His clothes have been absolutely shredded, but he doesn't care. I pick up his cell phone and his wallet, both of which lie in the debris.

"I have some questions, and you will answer them."

He strides naked into the filthy house I grew up in. I am ashamed of it at the best of times, and this is not the best of times.

"Get out of my house!" my aunt shrieks, flapping the dishcloth at him. "I don't have to answer any of your questions. I don't owe you anything at all. If you've decided to slum it with my slut niece, that's your problem."

There's a long silence after her poisonous tirade in which I can practically feel Cain calculating his options.

"Did you pick up my phone, Kira?"

I give him the phone, not saying anything. I don't want to speak in my aunt's presence. Her description of me was foul, and her energy is bitter and cruel. Cain might be able to protect me from her physically, but he can't stop her from saying things that shred me on the inside.

He takes it from me and makes a call. "Bardo. I need a fresh supply of clothing to my location and transport for five."

"We're not going anywhere with you," my aunt hisses. "Colton's already run."

"My pack will hunt him down."

Next thing I know, an empty, faded floral dress is sitting on the kitchen floor, and my aunt is gone, fleeing just as she promised.

"Ruby? Beer!" My uncle's voice comes from the nearby room. I don't think he's aware of what's going on. He's as caught in the middle of this as I am. I've never felt sorry for him before, but I think I might now. He's been abandoned by his wife and son, and I know Cain is going to try to get answers, whatever they are, out of him.

"That's my uncle," I explain. "He's sick. He won't know anything. His brain doesn't work so well anymore. He drank far too much for far too long."

"Understood," Cain says.

He's very naked, and very, very handsome. Seeing him handle my familial tormentors is about the hottest thing I've ever witnessed. He's protected me against the monsters who lurk in the very core of my psyche. He's silenced the voice that tells me I'm worth nothing and will never amount to anything.

The sound of helicopter blades beats the air as Bardo comes in on the helicopter to bring Cain clothes and backup. I just know Cain has made a scene in St. Infernus that will be the source of gossip for years to come.

The pilot lands, and the guy who must be called Bardo comes out of the helicopter. He's the most intimidating guy, next to Cain, that I've ever seen. He's even taller than Cain, and he has the beard of a special forces soldier, not to mention the cool gaze of one. I saw him around at Denholm, but there he was just one of dozens of incredibly good looking, intimidatingly together people. Out here in St. Infernus, he's an outlier.

He has clothes for Cain. A white shirt, dress pants, socks, and shoes. In a couple minutes, Cain looks every inch the billionaire he is once more.

"There are two wolves on the run, a mature female and a younger male. I want them both captured and brought back to Denholm. See what we can do for the old man in the next room."

Bardo nods, taking orders without question. There's something about his bearing, not to mention the confidence Cain seems to have giving the orders, that makes me think this is one of his most trusted pack members.

Cain nudges me, and I realize I've been staring.

"I need to have a shower," I stammer. "And get changed."

"There should be a change of clothes for you too," Cain says. "Is there, Bardo?"

"Yes."

Bardo barely speaks aside from when he absolutely has to. He's kind of absolutely terrifying. I am glad to escape back to the grungy old bathroom and have a shower under lukewarm water, wash the filth of the previous days from my skin and hair while playing the image of Cain shifting and then un-shifting over and over in my head. I do not know what I did to deserve him. He is absolutely the most incredible man I have ever met.

He came for me.

I ran, and he came, even though he must have thought about not doing that. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he meant what he said when he told me that I am his mate and that I belong to him forever. Maybe he's not escapable. That's an exciting, frightening thought.

There's a tap at the door.

"Come in?" I call out somewhat timorously.

"There's some clothes for you here," he says as he comes in.

He's brought me a very comfortable pale beige jumpsuit and matching sneakers. It's the sort of outfit that probably costs thousands even though it looks casual. He stands in the bathroom and watches me dry myself and put the clothes on. I don't mind. His presence feels protective, though I know I don't deserve it.

"Why did you come for me?" I mumble the question, deeply embarrassed, knowing I don't deserve his attention.

"You're my mate."

It really is that simple for him.

"So that's it. I'm your mate, and it doesn't matter if I'm human trash?"

"Coming from humble beginnings does not make you trash, Kira."

"I mean, it doesn't matter what I do, I'm just your mate, and it's that simple?"

"I don't recommend you push the boundaries of that. You won't like the results. But yes. It is that simple."

I fall silent, feeling guilty for having asked. What a mess I've made for him. And it just keeps getting worse.

"Why do you want to find my aunt and cousin? What do you think will come of it?"

"I want to know your family. Where you come from. Your bloodlines. Who your father is. Who you are."

Cain

She looks at me with big eyes. "Where I come from, my bloodline, my father… none of that is who I am. At least, I hope it isn't."

That response makes me stop for a moment. I have been doing what the pack wants me to do, what Linus demanded I do. I have been trying to track down her heritage so we can place her in the tapestry of our kind.

I have done everything besides simply get to know her.

"Kira," I say, "it's time I took you home."

I take her by the hand and lead her out of the stinking, dilapidated hovel she fled to out of a sense of duty. She is loyal to a fault. That is something I know about her. Something other than the color of her pelt or the humbleness of her origins.

The helicopter is still waiting. I leave Bardo to his job. He is not alone. I came with several dozen pack members, knowing that there was trouble afoot in this little town that time and the law seems to have forgotten.

Kira

I remember the first time he took me in a helicopter, how he held me in his lap and made me feel so incredibly safe. That was before I ruined things, broke his trust, made myself look terrible in front of his pack, and generally destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me.

He's come for me, but I know this is not what he wanted from his mate. He expected better. He deserves better. As he leads me out of my aunt's house, tears start to course down my cheeks. I don't deserve him. I'm not good enough for him. I've disappointed him once, and I know I will do so again and again.

I follow him meekly, feeling deeply ashamed. I try to sniff the tears back, hide how I am feeling because I know nobody has time for my dramatics, but it is so hard. I get into the helicopter meekly, trying to keep my face turned away from Cain. The last time we were in one of these, he held me close, and this time sitting in a seat next to him feels like a rejection even though he is literally saving me from the mess I was in. If not for Cain, I would still be sitting in a cell, hoping the police didn't process me and send me to jail for real.

I've narrowly avoided one of the very worst outcomes possible, and it's all because of him. I owe him so much. I owe him even more than I owed my aunt all those years. My entire life is a debt to others.

As the helicopter takes off, I try to make some apologies.

"I'm sorry I took the money from your wallet. My aunt called and told me my cousin was in jail, and…"

He cocks his head to the side and looks at me with disbelief. "You think I spent weeks hunting you down, then flew a helicopter across several states to recover a few hundred dollars? The helicopter costs over a thousand dollars an hour to keep in the air. This is not about money."

"What is it about?"

"You," he says. "It will always be about you."

His words sound almost sweet, but his demeanor is so displeased that I can't interpret it in a comforting way.

"I'm sorry," I whimper.

We don't talk much on the ride back to Denholm. The helicopter is a very noisy means of transportation, and even with the headsets, it's easier to stay silent. I'm still so absolutely suffused with guilt, I can't bear to look at him, let alone speak to him.

The flight is a few hours. A lot quicker than my big bus journey took. There are snacks and water to indulge in on the way, which is nice. I am being looked after incredibly well, and I am grateful for it, though I still feel an ongoing sense of not deserving any of it. It seems like an accident of birth that made me his mate. An act of luck and fate. Neither one of those things have ever been particularly kind to me. Maybe it's all turning around.

The second time I see Denholm is even more impressive than the first. I appreciate it all the more now, knowing how large and lavish the place is. This is effectively a castle, and I am sitting beside the king.

We land on the roof, and for a second time, Cain escorts me into his ancestral home.

It's much quieter this time. The conclave is over. I assume some people have remained behind to run the place and take advantage of the shelter it offers. Denholm isn't just a big fancy house. It's also a safety net for the pack, I think. On my first visit here, I noticed older people who would be struggling in the outside normal world who clearly live here and are taken care of.

Cain puts his hand on my lower back, guiding me to the room we shared before. I can tell he has some sort of agenda. His grimness indicates he is going to attend to everything that has happened between us now. No polite chit chat. No downtime.

"Right," he says. "Now to deal with your misbehavior. Suffice it to say, I don't expect to have to pick my mate up from jail."

His words are delivered in close to a neutral tone, but my guilt is so intense that I immediately burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry. I knew I shouldn't. But my aunt…"

"This is the first and last time I will ever accept your aunt as an excuse for your behavior. I know she has manipulated you over the years, but there is a point at which an adult has to take responsibility for what they do. Committing crime because someone tells you to is still committing crime."

He lectures me grimly, making it clear that although he saved me, and will always save me, there are consequences.

He sits down on the bed and rolls his sleeves up, forearms flexing before patting his knee. "Come over here, Kira."

I hesitate for a brief second.

Dark brows lower over light eyes. "If you are so sorry, then you know full well you deserve to be disciplined for this. You've been a very unruly, naughty mate."

I don't think of myself as unruly or naughty, but I guess that's what an unruly, naughty person would say. I go to him, though every step feels like walking through molasses.

He puts his hands on my hips and tips me over one knee. The other leg clamps mine in place. I am not getting off his lap until he decides to free me, that much is obvious.

"You are mine," he says. "And I mean that in every sense. You are my mate. The love of my life. I am devoted to you, and that means I will never abandon you, not even to your own bad choices. But I will also lead you, and you know very well that I will punish you too when you deserve punishment."

He says all of this with my head pointed down toward the floor. I don't say anything. What can I say? He's being so sweet, and so loving, and yes, firm because he's the alpha. My alpha. My mate. I don't deserve any of his attention.

He pulls my pants down and my underwear. He bares me, and I know that soon enough, things will start to hurt. Before they do, he has one last thing to say.

"I was terrified at having thought I lost you. Don't you ever make me fear for your safety again. It is a pain unlike any I have ever experienced, and I do not wish to undergo it again."

His words are somewhat stiff and formal, but I can feel the pain in them. He missed me. He worried about me. He looked for me. And he found me.

Now he's spanking me.

His palm meets my ass hard and fast and continues to do so until my toes are drumming against the floor and I am writhing in the leg-lock he had the foresight to put me in before starting.

Cain whips me with his hand for longer than I think I can handle. He must have smacked me over a hundred times, and he's still going. Some are hard and some are softer, some are fast and some are slow, but every single one of them builds a painful sting and ache, both of which I try to take as stoically as possible.

"I don't care what that woman asks of you. She has no power over you anymore, do you understand?"

"I don't want her to have any. But she raised me. I owe her…"

"You owe her nothing. Not your life, and certainly not your freedom. You almost went to prison, Kira. If I had not found you, you would have thrown everything away for a woman who has never cared for you—and who has no capacity or ability to care for you. Stop trying to make people who don't love you, love you."

His words strike harder than any of his slaps.

I've spent my entire life trying to become pleasing to someone who cannot be pleased.

It's never going to happen.

She's never going to care.

I lost my mother when I was born, and I'll never have one, no matter how hard I try, or what I do. I could ruin my entire life trying to please my aunt, and pay a debt to her that I never owed.

It is as though floodgates open inside me with that realization. I've been trying to make something happen my entire life that will never, ever happen. I cry the same way a newborn baby cries, searching for the comfort I was made to seek, and deprived of it by the same fate that brought me my mate.

Cain picks me up and sits me on his lap. He holds me close as tears spill down my cheeks, wrapping me up in a tight grip that soothes me.

But that is not the end of things. I know he's not just going to spank my bottom and cuddle me and that's it, all over. He has comforted me, he has taught me a lesson, and now I am absolutely soaked with desire for him. He is my alpha and my mate. He is my comfort and my protection. He has never shown me anything other than love, even though I've done nothing to deserve it.

It suddenly occurs to me that that's how real love is. You don't get it because you deserve it. You get it because someone sees something in you and makes a connection with you. It's not earned. It's given.

I reach for his cock, rubbing my hand over the crotch of his pants, feeling his erection through the fabric.

"Naughty girl," he growls, pleased.

"I missed you," I whimper.

"You missed my cock, didn't you," he says.

I nod.

He tips my face up to his, two fingers under my chin. "Say it," he orders. "Tell me you missed my cock."

"I missed your cock," I whimper, blushing furiously as he forces that admission from me.

He frees it from his pants by way of reward, and I feel excitement rushing through me as he shows me that thick rod of flesh that is all for me. He really does have a beautiful dick, and I cannot wait to feel it inside me.

"Get your tight little pussy on this," he orders. "Show me how wet you are from being spanked like the bad girl you are."

I squirm on his lap, trying to do as I am told. In the end, I stand in front of him, my back to him, arched to press my ass out so he can help guide my pussy down onto that thick cock of his.

He grips my hips and impales me slowly.

"That's a good girl," he snarls as my pussy wraps around him. "That's right, my little mate. How dare you take this hot cunt away from me without permission. You know you belong to me. You know I need to fuck this hole of yours daily."

His words are crude as he guides me up and down the length of his dick, slowly filling me up over and over again.

"You're going to have to be bred much more regularly," he says. "I don't know if I should let you have a break from being fucked, or if I should have you keep your pussy open with a toy in between sessions, so you remember what your purpose is."

He is saying such filthy things, but this really does feel like my purpose and my destiny. I feel as though I was made to be fucked by him, as if destiny is being fulfilled when his cock enters me. This is what the mate bond does. It makes me wet, willing, and entirely devoted to being fucked by my alpha.

"Mine," he snarls as his cock thrusts deep inside me, pulling me onto his lap and spreading my legs so they are on either side of his. "You're mine."

I writhe on top of him, soaked and desperate for his flesh and for his love. I want him deep inside me. I want him to completely consume me. I am giving myself up, abandoning the past and embracing the future of what I will be with him.

Cain bounces me on his cock for a very long time, long enough that my pussy starts to get a bit sore. I start to whimper a little at that point, which only seems to encourage him.

"Does it hurt, having your cunt used to make up for all the fucking you missed when you were away?"

"A little," I moan.

"Good," he says. "I want you to feel this long after I am done with you. I want you to feel your poor, soaked, swollen, used cunt, and remember that I own you, and your primary function is to take my cock."

With that, he starts lifting me up and slamming me down on his dick. He is so damn muscular and strong, easily able to use me like the fuck toy he says I am.

"That's right, grip my dick," he encourages me. "I can feel how tight you are. You need to be stretched out again, don't you? You need to be filled up and knotted."

He pulls me down on his cock and comes inside me. I let out a wailing whine, because of course, this is not over. My pussy was starting to feel a little too fucked, and now, as his knot swells inside me, I feel my body struggling to take him.

"Come on my cock," he says. "Rub your clit and take my come and be a good girl for your alpha."

I do as I am told, rubbing my pussy to try to get to orgasm. This is a welcome home fucking, but it is also a punishment. He is disciplining my pussy. He is reminding me of how sore he could make me if he wanted to. And he is using me just as I was made to be used.

I come so fucking hard on his cock, I almost black out and shift, but he keeps me in my human form by biting the back of my neck, the pain shocking me into another orgasm as I am held impaled on his knot, my pussy absolutely ravaged, but my sins entirely absolved.

Later, when we are two separate beings instead of one horny beast, he speaks to me more rationally.

"You belong here," he says. "You belong with me. And when we are ready, we will call another conclave, and I will marry you in front of the pack."

"They don't like me though. I mean, they don't respect me."

"You met them before you had even begun to understand what you are," he says. "I'm going to teach you about yourself. You're going to meet others who will also educate you. Linus, our historian, is excited to work with you. By the time the next conclave is called, you will be more than ready."

It takes me about ten minutes to prove him wrong. I go looking for sweet treats in the Denholm kitchen, and who do I run into besides the woman who seems to have absolutely nothing going on in her life besides hanging around this dusty old building.

"Nice to see you again, Kira," Isabella smirks. "Cain was always so good at picking up trash."

I don't know what comes over me. Maybe it's hormones. Maybe my body is still adjusting to all the shifts and twists of being a newly minted wolf. Whatever it is, I bite her. I don't shift. I just bite her with my human mouth, right on the fleshy part of her upper arm.

Her yowl of shock and pain is immensely satisfying.

"She bit me! She fucking bit me! She's an animal!"

Isabella runs away from me, all her alleged poise leaving her as she comes to grips with the realization that I don't care who she is. She might be accustomed to being treated as though she is something special, but I am the alpha's mate.

I go about my business for maybe five minutes before the chickens of consequence try to roost upon me.

"Kira!"

I am swept up off my feet, swung around, and then put back down again in a gesture that seems half intended to chastise and half intended to correct. I let out a little giggle of excitement, because every time Cain touches me, I feel a rush of the most pure feeling of excitement. He and I spark whenever we touch.

Cain holds me by the shoulders and looks down at me with alpha intensity. "Did you bite Isabella?"

"She deserved it," I say calmly. I don't know what's shifted inside me, but something has. Am I more confident? Or am I more feral? Most of the time I've spent as a shifter has been back home in St. Infernus.

Maybe not every part of my upbringing doesn't serve me. Maybe there's some benefit to…

Cain's expression shifts back and forth a little, as if he is wrestling with himself. I give him a wide-eyed, innocent look. He has to know that this is progress for me. I've never stood up for myself in my life.

"She was very mean," I add. "She said I was trash."

His expression darkens. Instead of saying a word to me, he reaches out, pats my head, and goes on his way. I assume Isabella's day is going to get worse. Good.

I'm tired of living like a victim. I might not have the breeding these people think I should have, but that doesn't make me weak.

Cain

I made it very, very clear that any disrespect of my mate would lead to terrible consequences, but of course Isabella had to test that. The woman has no sense. She's spent far too long being able to bully others in this pack because she comes from a good family and because she's sought after as a mate by many—just not by those she wants. She's waiting for her mate bond to become apparent. We're all waiting for her mate bond to become apparent. The sooner some unfortunate male takes her as his own, the better.

"So you come to me to complain that my mate hurt you, and when I talk to her, I discover that you've been running your mouth again. Do you really think you're beyond consequences, Isabella?"

Isabella is looking out the window in dramatic heroine fashion. If there is ever anybody who lives their lives as if they are the main character, it is her. She tosses her long dark hair and gives me a wounded look.

"She put her teeth on me, Cain."

"Don't use my first name. You've lost that privilege."

"You don't understand. She bit me. I don't mean nipped. I mean she wanted to take a chunk out of me. And her eyes… there was something in them."

Isabella is shaken up, which is surprising because nothing ever seems to make an impression on her. She's the bane of Abel and Bardo's lives, the most challenging orphan in our pack besides myself.

"Let me see."

She shows me the bite. It is well placed in the fleshy part of her arm. It looks deep. It broke the skin in a few places. I can see the intent to hurt in it, and there's even a chance it will scar.

I feel a burst of pride. My little mate is starting to bare her teeth quite literally. This is not a bad thing. She didn't shift and attack. She bit back at a comment that was unnecessarily cruel and entirely disrespectful.

"Looks like you got what you deserved."

"She's not what you think she is," Isabella whines. "You're not understanding me. When she bit me, when her teeth met my blood, I felt it. She's not like us."

"That's been apparent from the very first time we met."

"No. I mean we all thought she was a silly domestic puppy, but she's not. I'm telling you, Cain. You don't have a helpless little dilute on your hands. She's something else."

"I think I would have noticed that in the mate bond."

"Maybe not. Mate bonds blind us. They're powerful enough to make people overlook all sorts of faults and flaws. That's literally what they do. I don't have a mate bond with her, and I'm telling you, there's something wrong with her."

Isabella is really laying it on thick. Her eyes are wide, her tone is earnest. She looks and sounds scared, but suffice it to say, I am not open to feedback that suggests my mate is anything other than made for me, or made for Denholm.

"In that case, I advise you stay away from her and refrain from sharing your opinion. I can make both easier. You can report to Linus and help him with the categorization of the library. He was saying he needed someone young and strong to help him move the books."

"You're making me do manual labor?"

"You're lucky I'm not sending you to the dungeon. You deserve it. Next time you antagonize my mate, that is what will happen. Thirty days in a cell. No right to appeal."

Her eyes grow wider still. "But what if it happens by mistake?"

"Stay away from my mate, Isabella."

I turn and walk away, aware that I am letting her get away with this somewhat, but meaning every word. Isabella has been warned. If she runs afoul of my mate again, she will truly suffer.

"Report to Linus," I say over my shoulder. "Tell him he can do what he wants with you."

"Oh gag," I hear her mutter under her breath.

My jaw tightens. I can't change the habits of the pack overnight. Isabella is a problem that should have been dealt with long ago. The truth is, we feel sorry for her. Her younger sisters all found their mates in their early twenties. Isabella is twenty-five and going slowly mad with unrequited desire. That's why she's such an irritant. She needs to be pinned down and fucked until she has a civil tongue in her head.

I find my shadow, Bardo. He returned from St. Infernus and has not had much to do since then. I've kept him close because of all the unsettling events that have taken place recently. Denholm doesn't usually have this number of guards. I called them in once I knew my mate would be in the fortress. They watch every window, every door, every entrance and exit. Their job is to keep her from leaving again.

Some might say Kira is a prisoner, but I am trying my best to ensure that she does not notice it. A gilded cage might be a cage, but at least it is comfortable.

"Bardo, can you please keep an eye on Isabella? I don't want fighting in the pack, and I know she'll cause trouble among the other females. I want her out of the way, and out of trouble."

"Out of the way I can do. Out of trouble, not so much."

"Just keep her away from Kira, and ensure she reports to Linus. I want her well occupied."

Bardo nods. "Understood."