Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

K ira

I'm happy. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I truly belong somewhere. Cain has gone out of his way to ensure that Denholm is a welcoming place for me. I haven't seen Isabella in weeks, not since she took that dig at me about my previous home life.

It really does feel like a previous life now. I wake up next to Cain every day, and I go to sleep with him every night. He has redefined what it means to exist. I don't have to prove myself to him, and I don't owe him anything.

These are all the ingredients for a fairytale happily ever after.

But there's something below the surface, like a shark swimming just deep enough to avoid having its dorsal fin cut the water. I can sense it, even if I don't entirely understand it. I do my best to ignore it and to lean into the happiness that is all around me.

I don't want to ruin this. I want to be a good mate to Cain, and it feels like I'm finally able to achieve that. We have sex all the time, and every time we do, I fall for him a little more and am astounded at how good he is capable of making me feel.

It's probably just anxiety. I'm probably just not good at feeling good. I've heard that once you get into a healthy relationship, things can get a little weird because you're not used to people being nice to you. So that's probably what this feeling is. I just have to relax and let myself trust the world, and I guess, myself.

"How are you feeling, Kira?"

Abel has come to Denholm. He comes and goes quite often, and lately, Cain has been trusting me enough that he comes and goes sometimes too. They have a multinational corporation to run, and I know I have taken up more than enough of everybody's time. I'm trying very hard not to be a bother to anybody.

It's breakfast time, which is my favorite meal of the day. The cooks here have taken it on themselves to lay out a sweet spread, which today includes chocolate croissants. I've put on a little weight, but Cain doesn't care. I know that not because he says it, but because he shows it. His desire for me only ever seems to grow.

"Good, thank you," I say, trying not to spread crumbs everywhere. I find Abel a little intimidating. Hell, I still find Cain intimidating. These men are beasts. Cain softens toward me because I am his mate, but there's none of that softness in Abel. Instead, there's a politeness and a respect that doesn't quite make it all the way to deference.

"You seem like you're starting to settle in," he says.

"It's very nice here," I say.

The small talk is already starting to feel awkward. I don't know why. I see something swimming behind his eyes. Something like the thing that swims in me. Maybe this is just how it feels to be a wolf sometimes.

Or maybe something is happening. Something I need to pay attention to.

I just don't know what.

Cain

My plans are now turning to more commonplace plans, like a proposal, a wedding, and perhaps if I am very fortunate, a pup. Yes, Kira is a domestic dilute, but I am sure that will make her an excellent mother.

Unfortunately, Lupin industries has a way of commandeering my attention whenever I let it, and though I am indeed planning to marry my mate, I need to give things time to settle, both at work and at home. We have been experiencing some unrest at work, largely due to a kind of corporate sabotage that has seen several settled contracts fall through of late. I am putting it down to the fact that I have been so distracted lately.

Even now, a part of my mind is on how Abel's silly jumping the gun by calling an immediate conclave wasn't helpful at all, and it indicated a certain lack of judgement. That's why I can't take my hand off the tiller at either work, or at home. If I could split myself in two, I would.

I'll bring Kira back to work at the office once we are married, but for now, I think it is best for her to be in the company of the pack. She needs to be socialized by them, which means we are sometimes separate for a day or two. Today is one of those days.

I miss her.

A lot.

"My alpha?"

I am sitting behind my desk in my office in Lupin Tower, the entirety of the city laid out underneath me. This is a place where people call me Mr. Lupin in deferential tones. They do not call me ‘my alpha,' and they do not dress in anachronistic suits.

Linus is here. As I look up in surprise, I catch Isabella's scent as well. It figures she would have something to do with this interruption.

"Is something wrong with Kira?"

My mind immediately goes to my mate. Sometimes it seems as though I am unable to have any thoughts besides ones which circle back around to Kira.

"Nothing wrong, per se," Linus says. He steps into my office, followed by a younger version of himself—his son, Will. Will is in his late twenties, has his father's eyes and his hair length. Both of them are dressed in formal vintage attire, looking as though they stepped out of an 1800's adventure book. In the library at Denholm, they fit perfectly. Here in my modern office, they look entirely out of context.

"Will has been helping me modernize the pack records," Linus says. "It used to be little more than an ancient scroll with a family tree written upon it. Then we moved to a ledger, with more information, and…"

"What do you mean there's nothing wrong, per se ?"

"We have been digitizing records and matching them to DNA samples," Will says, taking over from his more long-winded father. "In the matter of your missing mate, sir, we managed to find some of her fur stuck beneath the table in the hall. We took the liberty of analyzing it, in case there was some kind of clue to her disappearance there. We did this without mentioning it at the time of her disappearance, not knowing if it would lead to any kind of fruitful outcome. Better to try and to fail in secret than to…"

"You mean you were trying to discover who she really is, why she is a dilute, who her parents are, because that is all anybody in this pack ever cared about?"

If I sound bitter, it is because I am. Kira ran because her aunt summoned her, but the pack had an equal role in making her want to leave. I am still not quite over that. They showed me disrespect when they showed her disrespect. And I can still smell Isabella, but I am starting to think she's not actually here. Will is absolutely coated in her scent. I suppose that tells me what she has been getting up to in the library. She's not been doing any work with Linus. She's been doing Will.

"No, well, yes," Will says. "Perhaps. But you will want to hear this. We came with evidence."

I quite admire this young man. It is not easy to be snarled at by an alpha. There is a slight tremor in his fingers as he fumbles with a USB drive.

"Tell me."

"Your mate is not a dilute," he says. "At least, not in the way we previously assumed she must be."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Usually, a lighter coat color is seen in shifters who only have one full-blooded parent," he says. "It is a result of there being a lack of pigmentation passed down from the other parent. So instead of looking like a mix of both parents, a half-breed wolf tends to look like a light version of the one parent with shifter blood when they are in their wolf form."

"I know that. We all know that."

"Yes. And that is so commonly the reason for a dilute coat that we discount any other reason for it. But it is also possible for a wolf to have a lighter coat color if she is in fact full-blooded herself, but one parent is albino."

It is as though the blood freezes in my veins. A surge of dread follows. The implication settles over the room like frost as the hair on the back of my neck and my arms rises.

"There are no albino wolves in North America." My voice is hoarse as I make that comment.

There have never been albino wolves in North America, at least, not officially.

But there was a white wolf once.

"Who else knows this?"

"Just us, my alpha."

"Does Isabella know?"

Will's gaze immediately becomes shifty. "She may have overheard…"

Goddamnit.

Kira

"You should try this," Abel says, producing a gold wrapped treat from his pockets. "It's a traditional sweet."

I don't want to be rude to Cain's brother. I know I've caused so much trouble here. I need to fit in so that Cain can trust me, and so that I can trust myself.

"What kind of traditional sweet?"

"I think you'll like it," he smiles. He has such big, white, intimidating teeth, and he is looming over me in a way I am sure he does not mean to.

I take the sweet and I unwrap it. It smells a little like licorice, and something else I can't quite put my finger on. Aniseed? I wouldn't ever eat this on my own, but Abel is looking at me with expectation, and I want to be polite.

So I put it into my mouth. It doesn't taste great. There's some sweetness, but there is also a lot of bitterness. The flavor is very strong, and it spreads over my tongue and through my mouth almost immediately. I couldn't spit it out if I wanted to because it has melted, kind of like a wafer.

I reach for water to wash the taste out of my mouth, but my hand never makes it to the cup. The world goes fuzzy. Furry.

Someone tries to touch me. It's not Abel. I taste familiar flesh. Isabella.

"Ow! Help me get her under control."

I have no intention of being controlled. I shift, panicked and drugged and ready to lash out at anyone or anything who comes close to me. The next time I bite her, it won't be with blunt human teeth. I will rip her open with my wolf jaws, and I will enjoy every moment of it.

My animal form is still under the influence of whatever the hell I was given, but I still acquit myself well. I jump and I bite and I knock tables of breakfast foods over as the others try to get me under control.

The problem is, both Abel and Isabella have their own beast forms, and they take them in short order. Abel is a massive black toned wolf, and though Isabella is smaller, she is as vicious in her animal incarnation as she is in her human form.

They take me down, Isabella biting underneath my neck and belly, Abel launching himself on top of me, pinning me down beneath the bulk of his body. I writhe and fight, doing all I can to make my escape. If I can just get to a window, I will throw myself out it.

But I can't. The drugs are seeping through my system, making me weak, and those who are holding me have clearly done this before. I whine and I yap, calling for my mate. But he is not here. I am alone in what has unexpectedly become enemy territory, and there is no telling what they are going to do to me.

Smack!

"Wake up!" A harsh female voice accompanies a painful slap across my face.

I open my eyes to find myself tied up on a bench of some kind. I'm lying face down, but the bench itself is tilted up enough to allow my tormentor to look at me. I am naked because the shift ripped all my clothes. Tactical error. My ankles and wrists are manacled in place, my back legs spread wide around the bench. This is a lewd and unseemly position. I don't think she did it to be sexual. I think she did it to disrespect and humiliate me.

What the hell is happening? Abel sedated me, and now I'm in some kind of… dungeon? The walls are stone and lit by flickering lights. Isabella slaps me again, the other cheek this time, a satisfied look on her naturally cruel features.

"Look at me, you little bitch."

I look at her, confused and annoyed. I should probably be scared, but I think whatever I was given is taking the edge off my fear.

"You don't belong here," she says. "We all know it. You knew it too. That's why you left. You should have stayed away."

"Why are you so afraid of me?" I am groggy enough to ask the first question that comes to mind.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You stink of fear," I say.

Abel laughs, apparently enjoying the way I am speaking to Isabella. He is standing behind her, his arms folded over his chest. He has an interesting expression on his face, somewhat grim, and somewhat resigned, as if he doesn't like this, but feels like it is necessary.

"I knew there was something wrong with you. I knew you were wrong," she hisses at me. "Now I know what you are."

"I know you are, but what am I?"

I mumble the question back at her, stupidly. She hates me because she's always wanted to fuck Cain. She's jealous that he's my mate and not hers, and now she's done something so fucking stupid, he's probably going to kill her.

"Why are you here, Abel? Cain's going to kill you."

"Cain's coming," he says. "We've done this for him. He knows what you are. I'd be surprised if you survived."

What the actual fuck.

Cain

I wish the helicopter could fly faster. Will has told me that Isabella decided to take things into her own hands, which can only end badly. That she-wolf has been looking for an excuse to hurt Kira since she came to Denholm.

The White Wolf is a legend at this point. Plenty of people don't believe in him at all. During the Second Cold War, he was a Russian spy known for his clandestine brutality. He was known to intelligence as one of the greatest threats to national security. That's what the government knows. What they don't know is that he was a shifter. A wolf.

He enacted a reign of terror, killing every shifter he ever encountered. According to the stories, he murdered well over a thousand wolves. The Denholm pack is what it is today in part because of his influence in weeding out the smaller, less well defended packs, annihilating entire bloodlines.

There's never been any indication of him having mated a female. But… another tingle goes up my spine. It's possible he met his mate here. And it's possible the connection was too great for him to ignore. He might have bred her because he couldn't resist, and she might have survived for the same reason I soften toward Kira so often and so greatly.

"He's our Genghis Kahn," Will is saying. "If we do have one of his bloodline in custody, this is absolutely momentous."

He and Linus are excited by the genetic lines. I am beginning to worry about something else. If I have the daughter of a spy loose in Denholm, it's possible that nothing has been as it seemed from the beginning.

A pit is opening up inside me, an awful, yawning feeling of potential loss. Kira has always seemed so sweet, so very much what she always seemed to be. A cute little domestic dilute, craving candy and sweets and submitting to me with all the eagerness and lust she can muster. What if she was never innocent at all?

Mate bonds are unbreakable except under one very specific condition: betrayal.

Abel is waiting for me when I land. He answers the question on my mind without having to be asked.

"She's in the dungeon. We thought it best to contain her when we found out what she really is. I tried to take her down without any fuss, but she fought."

I look at him with some measure of annoyance. Abel didn't have to do a damn thing. He could have left her to her devices and waited for me to arrive, but of course he jumped the gun, as always. Isabella's paranoia about Kira is spreading, and it is not healthy.

I find Kira shackled naked in the dungeon. She looks up as I walk in, and her expression shifts from one of complete misery to one of hope. The position she is in strikes me as entirely inappropriate. It is practically sexual. But the item she is strapped down to is a punishment bench, which exists for a reason. If she is guilty of the various crimes everybody is imagining her to have committed by virtue of her secret spy blood, then they have saved me some time.

"Who took her clothes off?"

"She did. She shifted. Tried to escape."

"Why was she not re-clothed?"

"That would have involved touching her more. Besides. Look what I found when I went through the ones she discarded," Isabella says. "And I was right to do so, because I found this."

She produces a pen with a flourish that suggests it is much more important than it seems to be. "It's a listening device," she says.

"That's not mine!" Kira wails. "She's lying! She's been trying to get rid of me since I came!"

"Yes. I have. Because I saw what you were. You're not one of us. You're not watered down blood, you're something much worse. You're foreign blood."

Isabella clicks the pen, and my voice plays, tinny and small in what feels like a cavernous space. "The contracts will be ready in the morning, but we're going to have to ensure that they're not aware of the clauses to do with the Greek deal…"

"I didn't do that," Kira says. "I didn't. Look at me. I couldn't even rob a house for my aunt, and you think I have been a spy all this time? You think I recorded you?"

I look down at my mate, bound helplessly, stripped of her dignity, and containing multitudes beyond that which she or I understand. I keep my eyes on her as I speak.

"Abel, get Isabella out of here. I need some time with my mate."

Kira

I thought for sure he'd release me immediately. Instead, he stalks around me, looking down at me. He's been at work. Expensive cufflinks flash at the end of his sleeves. They always excite me now because I associate them with the very first time we were together.

Abel and Isabella leave, thank God. Having them look at me naked was not a comfortable feeling. I know they had their reasons, practical ones, and also Isabella's refusal to avoid a chance to humiliate me.

"You're not going to let me go? Look what they did to me."

"They had no right to do this to you," Cain growls down at me. "And they will suffer for it. But you do look delicious, presented to me this way."

I feel a little pulse of excitement, my hips dipping a little to press my clit against the bench over which I am laid. He's right. Isabella had absolutely no right to do this to me, but now he is here, there is something about this position.

He runs his fingers through my hair lightly before curling them into a fist and pulling my head up to look at him.

"I have something to tell you," he says. "Something you've probably long wondered about yourself. The identity of your father is no longer a mystery."

There's something about the way he makes that statement that makes my stomach clench, and not in the hot way. It feels like something bad has been uncovered. And that's why he didn't completely lose his mind to find me stripped of everything and tied to a punishment bench. Maybe, in his eyes, I've done something wrong. Maybe I am something wrong.

"Who is he?"

"Genetic testing has revealed your father to be a Russian spy codenamed White Wolf. He operated in America in the eighties and nineties. He was also a shifter who killed a great many of our American wolves. He is feared to this day, and that is why such extreme measures were taken to subdue you."

"That's not why," I say, even as I digest that piece of wild information. "Isabella doesn't know if she wants to kill me or fuck me. She's insane."

Cain chuckles. "Perhaps. But your father's identity complicates matters. You're not as harmless as you look, my love. The blood of a legend flows through your veins."

"You mean monster," I say. "It sounds like he was a terrible person. Is he still alive?"

"He disappeared in the late nineties," Cain says. "Possibly around the time of your birth. It may have been an attempt to protect you, or he could have been killed without fanfare. It was common practice to remove Russian spies without letting anybody know. It was equally common practice to incarcerate them for life in military prisons."

"So anything could have happened to him?" I squirm against my bonds and in the grip Cain still has me in. This is the most twisted version of Who Do You Think You Are I can imagine.

"Yes," Cain says.

"Does this mean you'll… does it mean we… am I not your mate anymore?"

His fingers clench a little tighter in my hair. "You will always be my mate. No matter what."

He lowers the zip of his fly and exposes his cock. "I'm sorry, my love, but in this position, you're irresistible."

He slides his cock into my mouth, using me with slow, masterful strokes. This is twisted. This is wrong. But this is hot.

I feel the cool air of the dungeon over my bare sex, which feels so bereft. I have not been touched there at all. I have been left exposed, and now I am starting to drip with need as I taste little hints of his semen.

He fucks my mouth for a while, claiming that part of me until his cock is so hard it must be painful. He is so damn sexy, so completely commanding. The way his flinty eyes glint as he looks into mine makes my pussy grip at nothing at all.

"Whatever you are, you don't need to worry. I can control you," he says.

"What do you mean?" I ask the question when I get the slightest chance, when my lips are free of his cock.

"You're more than a little domestic pet. You're the sole offspring of one of the world's most nefarious shifters. His name is still cursed across this nation. Your existence will stir up the pack, and others besides. Some will fear you. They will imagine that you are capable of similar deeds. Blood defines blood. But I am telling you not to worry. No matter what you are, I can handle you."

He walks around me and slaps my ass. "What do you think of that, my mate?"

"I don't know what to think."

As the realization that he is not going to reject me for my father's sins starts to settle in, new feelings start to take over. My arousal is one feeling, but it's not the only feeling I have. Cain has teased me by using my mouth. He's made me want his cock, but that's almost unfair. I can't help but desire him. But I also can't help but notice how fucked up this all is.

I do know what to think.

I think I am furious at having been drugged inside my own alleged home. I think I am angry at having been restrained like an animal, while in my human form. I think Abel and Isabella deserve to suffer.

"Do I sense attitude in that tone?"

"No," I lie again.

I am not going to tell him the truth because I intend to handle matters myself. I am tired of being everybody's bitch. I am tired of being bullied by people who think they are better than me even though they are obviously, demonstrably much, much worse.

"I know you're not happy," he says, stroking my hair back from my head. "I know the ways of the pack seem unfair and perhaps even cruel to you."

I bite my lower lip and keep quiet.

I want his cock.

I always want his fucking cock. The fact that I've just been told that my father was incredibly dangerous just reminds me that I'm not actually weak. I play weak in the effort to fit in, but apparently I'm never going to fit in anywhere. Not at my aunt's house, and not here. So fuck it.

"I thought you'd have more to say."

"Why don't you shut up and fuck me."

His brows hit his hairline, before one lowers, leaving the other up in an expression of plain displeasure. "Is that how you speak to your alpha?"

"Apparently," I say, leaning into the sass. What does it matter now? I've tried being good, but it sounds like I'm not genetically made for that. May as well give them what they all expect. May as well become the handful I was made to be.

"I think I will fuck you," he says. "I think that's exactly what you need to put you in your place and remind you who you belong to."

He walks around behind me and smacks my bound ass several times. He's not really punishing me, though. He knows I like to be spanked. He knows how to play every part of my body for his pleasure. He knows that though I have been drugged, bound, and humiliated, I still belong to him, and when he smacks my ass and lays his hot claim on me, I will submit.

I can do nothing but take what he is giving. That is my lot in life, it seems. Some people are treated with dignity and asked for their consent. I am tied down, whipped, and oh god yes, please… fucked.

"My sweet, delicious, dangerous little monster," he purrs as he feeds his cock into my pussy.

I think he might be more excited by this revelation than anything. He accepted me when he thought I was a cute little half-breed, but now he knows I am something more than that, his excitement is palpable.

I suspect Cain has always wanted to be matched with strength. He loved me as a domestic dilute, but he is thrilled with me now. He fucks me so energetically, the bench I am bound to squeaks in complaint. My clit rubs repeatedly against the smooth leather, just enough friction to feel good, but not enough to make me come.

He pulls out, and I feel him swipe some of my abundant arousal away from my pussy. Then I feel his thumb pressing at the entrance to my ass. His cock spears inside me again, and his thumb slides into my butt, stretching me there.

This is not how most girls find out who their father really is. Most would expect a cuddle and a chat and offers of understanding. I am being ravaged, my cunt fucked, my ass toyed with, my mind sent into a spiral of pleasure and desire that I cannot escape.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me? Or are you going to be the bad little rebel I've seen so many times before? The rebellious runaway? The little prisoner?"

I can't answer, and he doesn't really want me to. What he wants is for me to take his cock and his come, and that is exactly what I do. I let him fuck me. I will take his dick like a good girl, and I will come as dutifully and properly as he expects me to.

His cock drives deep inside me, then pulls out slowly. He keeps fucking my ass with his thumb at the same time, adding a little more depravity to the situation. Again, he spreads my pussy and fills me up, before pulling all the way out and leaving me empty again. Once more, he goes deep. He is teasing me. He is driving me wild. He is showing me that no matter what I do, or how I act, he will always be in control.

"Is this what you wanted?"

"More, please," I beg.

"Oh, you want more? You want it harder? You want to be fucked until you forget your name?"

"Yes!" I whimper.

"Then you have to be a good girl, and you have to submit for me. You have to ask me very, very nicely."

Oh, god. He is really going to make me beg for him.

"Please," I whimper. "Please fuck me. Please give me your come. Please…"

He starts pounding me without mercy. Fucking me harder and faster than I have ever been fucked before.

Cain knows how to turn me into a completely feral little fucking animal, and I love that about him. No matter how bad or fucked up things are, his cock is there to drive all thoughts out of my head besides ones of being claimed and fucked and used and owned and oh my fucking god, I am coming…

Afterwards he frees me from my bonds, and I lie curled up in his arms, the knot of his cock keeping his seed securely inside my body. I wonder idly if I have been bred yet, if I am going to bear his baby the way my poor mother bore me. I wonder if I will survive, or if like her, I will succumb to the dangers of childbirth.

Life and death are always so close to orgasm.

"I want to go up to bed," I say. "Get a shower."

"I think it's best you stay down here for your own safety," Cain says, rubbing my back. "I'll set you up a comfortable room."

"What if I don't want to stay down here?"

Cain lets out a languid yawn. "It would be best."

I sit up, looking down at his handsome face. "And what if I want to leave anyway."

"Stay down here for the moment, Kira."

I see what is happening here. He has just finished telling me how he's not worried about controlling me, he's not afraid of my Russian blood. He's not like the other pack members, etc., etc., but he is now confining me to the dungeons. I might still be his mate, but I am also his prisoner.

"What about Abel and Isabella?"

"What about them?"

"Look what they did to me. They drugged me. They tied me up."

"They were overzealous," he admits. "But the position you were in was an interrogation one. If you were a spy, it would be appropriate treatment."

"I'm not a spy."

"Sure. But they didn't know that."

"Isabella tried to tell you I've been recording you with that stupid pen!"

At the mention of the pen, his expression closes. I thought he was on my side, but suddenly I'm not so sure he actually believes me at all. There are doubts in his mind about me. He might say he loves me, but he's treating me exactly the same way he'd probably treat a spy.

"It's just for a few days," he says. "Until we can get more information and things settle down."

"What if I don't settle down?"

He sits up next to me, wraps a hand around the back of my head, and kisses me firmly, obviously trying to drive all thoughts out of my head. It doesn't work. I taste him. I feel him. I love him. But he doesn't trust me, and that is in his kiss, too.

"I know how to handle unruly young wolves," he says when he breaks the kiss. "And you are falling firmly into that category."

"I thought I was your mate. I thought I was supposed to be the alpha female she-wolf of this pack. Here I am in a dungeon."

"Don't pout," he says. "This is not because you have done anything wrong. It is because I must be seen to have done everything right. We will get to the bottom of this soon enough. You need to be patient."

I don't want to be patient. I was a prisoner, thanks to my aunt's machinations, and now I'm a prisoner thanks to his. Fuck this. Fuck everything about this. I feel the darkness in me starting to rise. I feel a lifetime of being treated like I should be grateful to be allowed to draw breath coming to a head.

But I don't argue with him. I force a smile, and I make all appearances of acquiescing.

He'll regret this. They'll all regret this.