ChapterTwenty-Six
It wasall happening too quickly for her to keep up with. She had only just grasped the fact that the patron and his people were infecting dozens of men a day when he gestured toward his guards with a flick of his fingers. Her heart seized when she watched them stride into the cell, intent on dragging Otto from where he sat on the floor.
Eyes glowing and voice pitched to an inhuman growl, Otto rose gracefully before they could set their hands on him. “No need to be rough, gentlemen,” he rumbled. “I aim to cooperate, so long as no one threatens the woman.”
“Lovely,” the patron exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “My aim is never to harm a woman, you know. Goddesses tend to frown on that sort of thing.”
He didn’t believe in hurting women, and yet he intended to make her into a were broodmare? Josephine’s clammy skin crawled.
As if sensing her disgust, her father’s voice snapped like a whip behind her. “Do not fight this, Josephine. Not this time.” It was clear to her that he believed his life now depended on her cooperation.
Refuse,the rational side of her demanded.You always refuse. Make them take out the needle.
She had never bitten another. Every time she fought, she denied her father the one thing she could. It was her final stand and one she became even more dedicated to after Rasmus. Never would she allow them to makeherthe one who changed them. They could beat her, prod her, sting her, rail at her. They could take away every comfort, every scrap of food or drop of water.
Still, they could not make her fangs extend. They couldn’tforceher to bite.
She’d fought it dozens of times over the years, but for the first time, her rebellion ran up against intense resistance.
Josephine couldn’t draw in enough air as she stared into her mate’s eyes. She could feel her racing pulse in the roof of her mouth. Her fangs extended with a deep, throbbing burn. All the while, Otto looked at her like she was the center of the universe, as if it was just the two of them there in the dusty shadows.
His mouth moved, forming words without saying them.Come to me, kone.
She wanted to fight. Everything in her raged at hurting him. It would kill her to steal his animal. It would do so much worse to discover he hated her after the fact.
But not doing so would force him to watch as her father plunged a needle into her flesh. There might be even more terrible consequences from the patron, whose capacity for cruelty was untested.
She would not be able to disguise the agony, and she had a gut feeling that seeing her tortured that way for his sake would destroy Otto as surely as the murder of his animal. It would hurt him immeasurably, and she had no doubt that he would never stand idly by as it happened. He’d defend her even if the cost was the exposure of their connection, their flimsy advantage. What would happen then?
There were no good answers. There was no escape.
Josephine’s chin threatened to wobble as she forced her feet to move over the threshold and across the tile. Tears burned, hot and heavy, behind her eyes.I’m sorry.I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
Otto’s expression remained calm, encouraging. The warmth that glowed in his gaze threatened to undo her.I know,those eyes said.It’s all right, kone. Come to me.
Tears began to fall. Not because of the guilt. Not because of her crushed hopes. She cried because shewantedto bite him. More than anything in the world, Josephine wanted to sink her fangs into the thick muscle between his neck and shoulder. She wanted toclaimhim.
I’m a monster.
What other word was there for a person who wanted so desperately to harm their mate? She was worthless. She did not deserve Otto’s loving look, nor the low, rhythmic purr that filled the cell as she neared.
When it was all over, she would deserve his hatred.
In total, it must have only taken her a handful of seconds to cross the tile to stand before him. It felt like a lifetime.
His scent, rich and musky, filled her nose. That tether between them pulled taut, drawing her closer. Otto offered her a crooked smile.
It grew tense when the guards shuffled closer, reaching for his arms. Speaking with remarkable calm, he said, “I intend to cooperate fully, boys, but I’d appreciate it if you could give me and the lady some space.”
“I apologize,” the patron called from the doorway, his tone indulgent. “It’s a habit. Shifters tend to fight when cornered, you see, and I’d rather not see you take a bite out of Miss Wyeth if I can help it.”
“She’s been nothing but good to me,” Otto replied, eyes locked with hers. “I’d never hurt her. Not even now.”
“You’re much more amenable than most. Do you know what will happen to you?”
Otto’s fingers twitched between them. His knuckles brushed the folds of her skirt. Josephine glanced down reflexively, her heart aching, and was bemused to see what looked like one of her ribbons threaded through the chain and knotted loosely around the loops that had once held the small iron lock securing his cuffs. Hidden against her skirt or tucked against his stomach, no one but her would notice.
His finger twitched again, upward this time. Josephine looked up and found him giving her an intense, pointed look. Speaking slowly, he answered the patron, “I do, but I’m an amiable type. It’s in my nature, I suppose.”
