Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Sorry about that,” Cain says, ever so casually.
His hair is messed up, his shirt is on slightly askew, and there are flecks of something that might be blood on his sleeve.
I stare at him, afraid. Not because he hit or hurt Colton, but because with every day that passes, it feels as though I actually know him less. He’s my mate, he keeps saying, and maybe he is, but I don’t really know what he is capable of. I thought he was a man with a hard exterior and a soft interior. But now I’m starting to think that soft interior is a thin covering for something absolutely ruthless.
“You can’t keep me here forever,” I say. “And you can’t blame Colton for this. He’s my cousin. He has nothing to do with Russians or spies. He just wants to sell meth in peace.”
“I’m sure he does,” Cain chuckles. “But he might know something he’s not aware he knows.”
“Do you have my aunt here too? What about my uncle? Are you interrogating a sick old man?”
“Don’t worry about what I am doing,” Cain growls. “Worry about yourself.”
“Why?”
I’ve never been defiant before in my life, but this treatment is really starting to bring it out of me.
“Because you and I need to keep getting to know one another. I know you as a sweet little sugar addict, but that’s not all you are, is it? You have greater, darker potential than that, don’t you?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I scowl at him. “I don’t know. Maybe if I ever get out of this fucking cell, we’ll find out.”
“That’s enough attitude out of you,” Cain snaps. “I expect you to speak with respect, even if you don’t like your circumstances.”
What’s the difference between him and my aunt then? They both expect me to suck it up and put up with losing my freedom. They both think they own me and have the right to the use of my body, one way or another.
“When we met, things moved fast. We followed our instincts,” he says.
“Yes,” I say softly.
“I was arrogant. I believed that I could not be undermined by anybody. I thought because I am alpha of my pack, and because I am CEO of my company, I was smarter than a new hire fresh out of college who was supposed to bring me coffee.”
“But… you are?”
“Am I, Kira?” Again he gives me that head-tilt, and again those calculating eyes seem to look through me, taking the measure of some element I am unaware of.
I can tell he wants to be rational, logical, maybe even cold. But the chemistry between us continues to spark regardless of our more cerebral concerns. My mind is starting to feel fuzzy and warm with desire, even though I know I should be keeping cool.
“Don’t,” he rumbles.
“Don’t what?” I try to appear innocent. Hell, I am innocent. I am not doing anything but existing in his space. The chemistry between us is as potent as it has ever been. I’m beginning to lose my fear as I get caught up in it. I know I’ve crossed him, but the connection between us hasn’t been severed. I don’t know if it can be.
“Don’t look at me like that. Don’t smell like that.”
I drop my eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to do anything.”
I am really not trying to do anything. The last thing I want to do right now is fuck Cain—at least, that’s the last thing my temper wants. My body is telling a different story. I react to his presence in ways I cannot help. The mate bond is a powerful thing, and I don’t think either one of us is able to resist it.
Cain
I have spent days with the growing fear that this young woman executed a masterful plan to not only infiltrate my pack, but occupy all the internal bonding sites I have for a mate. I have berated myself for being a fool. My brother, Isabella, and other pack members have tried to convince me that we have been compromised.
But seeing her here and now, observing her… she would have to be the best actress in the world to pull off this display of ignorance and tempers. Underneath her irritation, I can quite literally smell her fear. That does not happen when someone is pretending.
I am supposed to be looking after her. When I recovered her from St. Infernus, I promised myself that she’d never suffer that way again. But here she is, incarcerated again, being treated like a criminal and an outcast. I know she deserves better. When I look into her eyes, I do not see someone who successfully pulled off a spy plot and returned to the bosom of her family. She looks like she has been neglected and brutalized by everyone in her life, and everyone is starting to include me.