When he turned his head, I saw the thick band of purple bruises around his neck and upper chest and felt a surge of glee at the knowledge that I’d caused them. Even a shifter would take days to heal from wounds like that.
“Where is Carter?” Darrell asked Lachlan.
His gaze steady, Lach replied, “I don’t know.”
Darrell growled. “This is your last chance. Answer me honestly or…” In a blink of an eye, he stood in front of me and thrust his hand through the bars. His fingers tangled in my hair, jerking hard. “I show you exactly how creative I am when it comes to hurting people who piss me off.”
I glared at him out of the corner of my eye, the warning snarl rolling up my chest and throat and out of my mouth.
Darrell glanced down at me, smirking. “Threaten me all you like, Chloe MacArthur. We both know you aren’t getting out of those ropes.”
He was right. In the position that Lach and I were tied in, we couldn’t claw or chew at our bindings without hurting ourselves. We couldn’t shift either because our arms and legs would be dislocated. By the time we healed enough to fight or run, it would be too late.
Darrell yanked my face against the bars, my forehead hitting them with a thunk. “Answer me!” he yelled at Lach.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell us. We offered to let him come with us when we ran, but he refused. The last time we saw him was in the forest near the cabin.” Lachlan’s eyes narrowed on Darrell and the muscles in his arms and legs bunched. “Let her go.”
As swiftly as he’d grabbed my hair, Darrell released me. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He turned toward me, crouching down so we were at eye level. “Now you. How much does Sophia know about the situation?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed in his face. He scowled at me, his hand shooting through the bars to grab my chin.
“What the fuck is so funny?” he asked.
“Y-y-you,” I answered, taking a shaky breath as I struggled to control the hysterical giggles bubbling up inside me. “Who do you think sent me here, Darrell? She knowseverything. In fact, I don’t think it will be long before she and her allies descend on this town and put you all down like the sick animals you are.” I wiped the smile off my face, my gaze boring into his. “And I think you know very well what Gram will do to you when she finds out you’ve killed me.”
I saw a shimmer of real fear in his eyes before he blinked and it was gone. My reputation as a fighter was well known in the U.S., but the hushed rumors whispered about my grandmother spread all over the world. Sophia MacArthur was the first female alpha to hold her pack against all challengers for over a hundred years. She was fair and generous to the wolves under her protection, but anyone who crossed her would quickly find out that she was merciless. There would be no hiding from Gram once she realized what he’d done, and Darrell knew it.
The door to the front area of the police department slammed open. Darrell and I both twisted to look at the newcomer.
“Get your hands off her,” Brayden Kirkpatrick snarled.
Carefully, Darrell released me, lifting his hands up to show his palms as he backed away.
“No one touches my mate but me,” Brayden continued, stalking forward. His voice sounded rusty, as if he used it so little it no longer worked correctly.
I watched him warily as he entered my cell, walking up behind me until I could no longer see him. I felt his hand stroke my hair and fought the instinct to shudder in revulsion.
“Leave, Darrell,” Brayden commanded. When Darrell hesitated, Brayden growled low in his throat. Though he was creepy as hell, he was more dominant than Darrell Whelby and they both knew it.
“I’ll be back later,” Darrell threatened, his eyes darting from me to Lachlan.
Brayden remained utterly still behind me as the older wolf left the room, waiting until the door clicked shut before he moved again. His hands whispered over my hair, down to my shoulders and back. I wondered what he was doing, my body tensing. When his palms came up to squeeze my breasts, Lachlan and I both growled.
“Don’t touch me,” I commanded, my voice so low that the words were little more than a rumble in my throat.
Without a word, Brayden grabbed the front of my t-shirt and ripped it from collar to hem, his hand coming back up to twist my nipple in a punishing grip.
I couldn’t bite back the yelp that emerged from my throat at the pain. Lachlan howled, throwing the weight of his body against his bindings, straining to get free.
Brayden leaned against my back, pressing my naked torso into the bars as he twisted my nipple again. “You’re my mate and I will touch you however I like,” he hissed.
When I turned my head and tried to bite him, he backed off quickly, releasing my breast. His hand flew up and connected with my cheek in a sharp slap. Though it wasn’t pleasant, I’d been hit harder in sparring practice by adolescent wolves. I snapped my teeth at him again.
“You’re weaker than most of the pups I train.” I hissed.
He hit me again and I laughed, which only made his rage boil higher, but I didn’t care.
“I’m not your mate,” I stated, leveraging against my bonds in order to face him more fully. “And I never will be.”
