7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Stephanie

" I had just gotten my degree in business," I start softly. Quinn keeps his eyes locked on mine, and surprisingly, it gives me the courage to speak. "I loved working with numbers. It was fascinating to see how a business could grow with my help. My friend got me a job at a bar that was struggling. The owner was nice and willing to give me a chance without real job experience. I got to know the workers there, and one of the bartenders wanted to set me up with her friend. She was a coyote but nice and seemed genuine. I hadn't been seeing anyone, and I thought, "What the hell." I no longer see Quinn's face, my mind returning to that bar and the night that changed my life.

"She gave him my number, and we decided to meet at the bar and decide where to go from there. He was human, so I knew if he was a creep, I could defend myself. I wanted a night to unwind." I smile softly. "When he came in, I thought he was cute. I mentioned that I thought he looked familiar, but he brushed it off, saying he had that kind of face. We talked, and it felt nice, normal, and he seemed interested in my life." I laugh bitterly. "I didn't know that he had definitely been in the bar before. I worked in the office when I was there, so I must have seen him in passing as I came or left.

"I kept asking if he wanted to leave and go to dinner or a movie. He would maneuver around the question. He kept ordering me drinks. I drank everything he put in front of me, and as time passed, my brain was scattered. I couldn't focus. I was so stupid. I should have smelled something, either the drug or his deception. I just kept drinking them," I whisper. "He was drugging me.

"I don't know what drug it was, but I assumed he had to give me large amounts so it wouldn't wear off quickly with my shifter genes. He put his arm around my waist, and I felt sick and scared. I couldn't hold onto a thought. I knew it was wrong, though. I tried to push his arm away, but my body wouldn't obey my commands.

"He took me outside, and I tried to fight, but it was useless. A car pulled up, and he shoved me in the back and followed me in. There was a man driving. Their words are a blur. I don't know what color the car was or what the man looked like behind the wheel." I pause to gather myself to tell the rest.

"This is the part of the story I've never told anyone. I didn't want to relive it when I was back home. Breeane doesn't even know," I say. Quinn leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and cups my hands between his. I want to build something with him, and I have to be honest. There is no denying that he is my mate, and I want him.

"I skipped over how I got to the games. I lived a state away from here, and for some reason, no one asked how I ended up here." I look down at our hands and stare. "I had to travel in the car with them. My date sat beside me the whole way, talking with his friend, laughing, and periodically giving me a shot. He had to keep the drugs in my system to keep me out of it enough to go hundreds of miles without a fight.

"They would go through drive-throughs to get food for themselves. My date, Colon, would put his arms around me and pull me in, pretending we were a couple, snuggling in the back. My lips wouldn't work; they were numb. I was so hungry, but they wouldn't feed me.

"Time didn't exist for me anymore. I had no idea how long I was in that car or how long it took us to get there. Even though I was out of it, I remember the degradation I felt when he watched me use the toilet. I could barely hold myself up, but the shame I felt inside was massive. I didn't want them to rape me. I knew I wouldn't be able to fight. That was the worst part."

"Did they?" Quinn growls.

"No. I couldn't do much, but I would have known if they took my shorts off. But he did plenty of touching whenever he felt like it." Quinn's hands flex on mine. "I hated him. I hated the man who willingly helped kidnap me and drove as if it were a fun road trip. I had no idea how many or what drugs were in my system. I couldn't feel my bear anymore."

"Do you know, when they put me in a cage, I was relieved? I was grateful to be out of the car and stuck in a small cage with a lock. I cried. I fucking cried, so fucking thankful to be out of that car. Those two men were the ones that shoved me in there and locked it. They grinned and shook hands with the man who was running the show. They helped him take shifters so they could play their game and hunt them.

"Maybe if I would have eaten the days before I arrived, I would have held off eating the dog food they gave us, but I was starving. I needed something to help absorb the drugs. Their hand wasn't out of the cage from pouring it into the bowl before I lunged for it. I had no thoughts of trying to escape while they had the door open. They had already put the collar around my neck beforehand, so it would have been pointless to run. It would shock you if you tried, and I witnessed many shifters try.

"Everything was pointless from that point on. I couldn't fight. I couldn't run. I had no hope. The drugs wore off, and I had moments I thought that it would have been better if they hadn't. The pain, shame, and anger would have been dulled." A rumbling starts from deep in Quinn's chest. I wrap my thumbs around his to hopefully comfort him.

"The rules were simple. Human men paid to chase, to hunt shifters through the woods. If they catch you, they win. They win in taking our pride, our independence, and our humanity. You ran. You hid. You tried to survive until morning or night—they weren't picky on the time they held the game.

"I was lucky to be small, and I could climb. I would pick different trees, the tallest ones I could find. The men were human and rarely attempted to come after you. They carried dart guns. If they were a good enough shot, they could shoot you out of the tree; I saw it happen.

"The day came when Ava was put in the cage beside mine. I thought it was odd because she was human. I had given up talking to anyone, but I had to know why they took her. She was angry and had hope that her mates would come for her. I thought she was stupid for believing. The witch who was hiding the area wouldn't let that happen. I hated her. Logically, I knew she was being used just like all of us, but at the time, I didn't give a shit.

"I learned later the witch helped Kerian and River and all the rest find us. I regret my words toward Ava. She saved us. She saved me.

I bring my eyes back to Quinn. "I don't know why I felt the need to come back here. I have a hard time being in a car with the windows up. I don't like driving long distances. When I saw the town in the distance, I lost it. I panicked, and the reason I was moving here didn't seem important anymore. I was the one who asked Breeane to come here. I made this plan, and when I was shaking on the side of the road, I thought, ‘ Why the fuck am I here?'

"My family has been treating me like I can't move without one of them in my shadow, and I was sick of it. How can I be so ungrateful? I was broken, and they just wanted to put me back together. I've been hiding. How can I heal? All the reasons I was here flew away. But then Breeane called excited, and I remembered. I had to do this. I want to move on. I don't want the memories of those men and that cage to rule my life," I rasp. "I want to be fucking normal again."

Quinn's eyes are glowing. "You will never be normal again."

"What?" I breathe.

"Your past doesn't define you, but it does shape you into the woman you are today. Normal is overrated. Normal is boring. You are stronger for going through all that shit. Do I wish you hadn't been forced to? Yes. Do I wish I could torture the men who kidnapped you? Hunted you? Fuck yes. I would tear them apart for even looking in your direction." He scoops me from the chair and walks to the couch. He sits and keeps me on his lap. "It was not your fault. You were the victim of humans who wanted to take back the power. If they hadn't drugged you, you would have been able to kill them."

"I should have smelled the drugs," I say, my head bowed.

"Fuck that," he snarls. "You don't know what kind of drug they used."

"I didn't fight," I say weakly.

"You were smart. You knew the odds, and you did the only thing that would help you survive. The key is, you survived."

"I have so many issues."

"Little Cub, we all do."

"Why would you want me for a mate?" I voice my concern.

"Do not let me ever hear you talking like that about yourself again," he grumbles, his hand grasping my neck, forcing my face an inch from his. "My mate is strong, beautiful, and brave."

"I haven't felt brave," I admit .

"You came back to the place that traumatized you, by yourself, to build a life. You gave your best friend a chance to escape her family. If you hadn't done that, she wouldn't have met her mates."

"Maybe."

"You were supposed to come here." He lowers his lips to mine, almost touching. "You came here to meet me. Your mate was here, and the universe and your bear knew it. I am your protector. I will always protect you."

"You can't promise that," I say, shaking my head. His hand tightens, stopping the movement.

"I can. Shit happens, but I can be here, no matter what," he says firmly.

"I don't understand you," I whisper. "I don't know what I'm doing. How do I be a good mate?"

"I could ask the same thing," he says. "We can find our way together."

I drop my forehead to his. "You seem so good at this."

"Little Cub, you haven't known me long. I will fuck up. I will say shit that you won't like, but everything I do from now on is to protect you and our bond."

"You're doing it right now," I whine. Everything about him pulls me in deeper. He may think he doesn't know what he's doing, but he's saying all the right things.

"Do you want to work towards completing the bond? Do you want to learn about each other, and spend time together, with the agreement that eventually we will complete the bond?" He slides his hand over my shoulder and down my arm to cover my hand.

"I would never deny that we are mates. I would like to learn about you. I have always wished for a mate someday. I've been fascinated by it and the fact that there is a perfect person for you out in the world." I sit straight and study his handsome face. "Growing up, you hear stories of mates. The feelings that come with it, but it's hard to imagine until it happens."

"I feel the same," he says softly.

"You seem to take control of every situation. Do you feel out of control because of the bond?" I ask.

"Surprisingly, no." He slides his other hand behind me and over my waist until he's cupping my hip. "Maybe I would if it didn't feel right."

His hands feel good on my body, and the heat flashes through me. "It does feel right," I agree. I watch his hand move from my hand to my thigh. "I like it when you carry me around. Could you tell?"

"I could." He pulls at my hip, and my shoulder hits his chest. "You allow me to move you, and your body relaxes."

"You make me forget everything but you," I confess.

"I'm glad, Little Cub."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Does it bother you?"

"No," I say quickly. "I was just curious." The rumble of the words of affection soothes me.

"There are several reasons. You are small, especially compared to me. You bring out my instinct to protect. It is a way to show you my affection," he says. I look down as he plays with the waistband of my jeans. "And I think the name pairs well with the name I hope you will call me." His finger glides in between my stomach and the fabric.

"What name?" I ask, my heart speeding. He looks up and tilts his head.

I don't move as he unbuttons my pants or as he lowers the zipper. "Daddy." My mouth goes dry. He bypasses my underwear, his warm hand covering me, and I groan. "Daddy can cup his Little Cub with one hand," he growls. "Have you ever called anyone that?"

"No," I gasp. His finger slides inside me .

"Good. I would hate that," he whispers. "I would love to hear it come from your lips."

"You would?" I say faintly. He hovers over my mouth while his fingers slide.

"I would. When you are ready." He kisses me before I can reply, and I lose myself in him.

His kiss is slow. Knowing his personality, I assumed he would kiss hard and fast, but he draws out every stroke of his tongue. Every sip is measured. He takes full advantage of my mouth under his, and I allow him to guide the pace.

He holds me still when I attempt to move my hips. The heat demands fast, but he refuses to allow it to. He does hold me in the palm of his hand, as I wait for him to give his permission for every move. My focus is on him, and nothing else exists. I refer to him to give me what I need.

He pulls back, and I see his bear in his eyes. "Yes, Little Cub. You feel so fucking good." He thrusts faster, his thumb hitting my clit with every stroke. "Does it feel good?" "Yes," I pant.

"I will give you everything you need." He adds another finger. "This is what I want. I want to feed this hungry pussy, every day in any way I want."

"Jesus," I groan, dropping my head back.

"Such a beautiful sound," he hisses. "I can feel it in my cock."

I grab his arm, my fingers digging into his skin. My other hand tangles in his shirt over his heart, pressing into the arm behind me, knowing he will hold me steady. I hear nothing but his voice.

"Please," I beg.

"Are you ready to come?"

"Yes. "

"Get there. Find it for me. Come on my hand, Little Cub," he encourages. I fall into him, tucking my head into his neck as the orgasm rolls over me, my moans muffled. His scent adds to my pleasure and prolongs the wave of desire.

His hand glides from my hip up my back to cup the back of my head, his fingers flexing in my hair. He slows the fingers inside me, sliding through the wetness in comfort instead of intensity. The calmness he portrays conflicts with the hard cock I feel against my thigh. I have a flash of guilt. This is the second time he has eased my heat but hasn't asked for anything in return.

"Quinn?" I mumble.

"Mmm…"

"What about you?" I ask.

"This was all about you," he replies. "It pleasures me greatly to touch you. Smell you. Ease you."

"But—"

"Hush," he says. "We have forever."

I push closer, naturally tucking into his big body. He makes me feel warm, safe, and loved in a way I haven't felt before. Is it the bond that makes me feel these things? My family protected and shielded me from the world for the past few months, and I felt suffocated. Yet, Quinn has freely admitted he will do the same thing, and I want to give myself over to him. He didn't treat me differently after I revealed everything I've been through, although he knew some of the facts. I could have this forever. We could build a life together with a foundation of truth, respect, and, hopefully, love.

What else could I ask for?

Can I call him Daddy? I could tell that it was something he craved, but he didn't pressure me. In the way he always speaks, he states what he likes and allows me to think about the conversation. I've never had the urge to call anyone Daddy.

He may be the one and only.