Page 17 of Betrayed Bullied Mate

So what? Our only option is to let this thing take hold, becoming mates and pairing for life? Do I settle down and start a family with a woman who hates me? My mind supplies me with a picture of Linnea standing in a kitchen, wearing an apron. It adjusts the picture so she’s in nothing but the apron.

Silence falls thickly around me, the forest quieting until the only thing I can hear is my concentrated breath, the sound of my feet against the leaves and pine needles carpeting the ground. The air around me is crisp and cool, bordering on too cold, chilled by the river below. I remember walking through these woods as a kid, shifting with my dad and racing around through the trees. I try to focus on the shapes of the trees and the faint trickling of the river below. I try to ignore the ever-present beat, beat, beat of Linnea’s heart, like it’s situated right next to mine.

I right my course, staying along the perimeter, checking again for the scent of any rogues. I need to focus. I need to distract myself.

I need Linnea. Fuck it.

Turning, I head straight for the cabin, thinking about her body draped in the blanket, waiting for me. I think about the way her hair is going to feel between my fingers, her body beneath mine, her arching her back so her tits press into my chest—

“What are you doing?”

Bigby is standing just on the edge of the clearing, his hulking form cutting a line in the horizon. His eyes are narrowed on me, and thankfully, my arousal abates for a moment, looking at him instead of thinking of Linnea.

“Nothing,” I say, clearing my throat, then, refocusing on him, I continue, “Watching the perimeter. Don’t worry about covering your watch. I got it.”

“So you’re going to stay up all night instead of getting any rest? Because you don’t want to sleep with your mate for some reason.”

A jolt of need shoots south. It’s painful, and I curse, wincing and bending at the waist.

“Fuck, Man, don’t talk about her.”

“Jesus Christ, Cadell, get yourself together. Just go back and—”

“No. This isn’t happening right now. I’m just going to—”

“You’re going to what? Ignore hundreds of years of biology and a deeply ingrained function you can’t separate from your own body? You have to go to her—”

“I said no,” I growl, setting my face and meeting his eyes, still slightly bent over in pain. “I can’t. You don’t understand.”

“You’re right,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at me. “I don’t understand. But I have seen this before. Had a cousin who got paired with a guy she loathed. Or, that’s what she said, anyway. We all watched her try to resist the mating bond. Dude, listen to me; she ignored it for two years. She hated the idea of settling down and traveled instead. Managed to stay away from him, ignore the desire, I don’t know. It wasn’t as bad for her, she coped. But that guy? He was fucking frothing at the mouth. His family literally had to tie him down to keep him from going after her. She only came back because the guy’s mother begged her and said he was going to do something drastic. Hurt himself, maybe.

“So cousin comes back to town after years of being gone, and the second she sees him, her heart breaks. She was in love with him the whole time, just hated the idea of being tethered to another person. They’ve gotten over it since, and they travel around together since she doesn’t want to settle. No kids, which is hard for him because he wants them—you know how it is, that’s nature trying to take its course—but they worked it out.”

I struggle to maintain eye contact, and he sighs when I don’t respond to his story.

“Are you hearing what I’m telling you? You feel like this now? Imagine two years from now. You’re not going to be able to muscle your way through this one, Man. And that was just some guy. Not an alpha. Your genetics are out to get you with this one, Aris.”

“I told you—”

“Having you out here, keyed up and out of your mind, stalking around, isn’t helping anyone. So don’t go back to Linnea if you really think that’s something you can manage—”

“—Don’t say her name—”

“—But get out of here. Go down to the water or something, damn.”

After a moment, I nod once and turn on my heel, heading down to the river. Bigby, as much as I hate to admit it, is right. I’m not much of a use when I can’t think straight. Maybe the water will help me shake the vice around my head.

When I strip my clothes off and submerge myself in the freezing water, it’s the first relief I’ve felt since my body touched Linnea’s back in the bar. The shock to my system momentarily sends thoughts of her and the maddening drive to return to her out of my head.

Despite the looming threat to my team and the huge problem of what to do about Linnea, I can still admire the scenery. I watch the way the water laps against the shore and note how the moonlight slants off the soft waves. I lean against the rocks, letting my eyes droop, and finally relax.

Chapter 10 - Linnea

I’m standing in a field, wearing a sundress, the soft breeze lifting my hair from my shoulders and rustling my skirt. The sun shines down in golden rays, warming my shoulders and making the field of flowers smell magnificent. I’m twirling with my hands out until I laugh and fall into the flowers, which are as soft as a bed beneath me.

In the distance, I see a man with a child, and he’s swinging the child. The child’s laugh rings out over the field, high and cheerful, and I smile, even though I know this is a dream. I watch as the man and the child change form, turning into wolves—one large and one small—and start running through the field, playing and chasing each other. The little one gets further away, and the bigger wolf catches up to him, grabbing him by the scruff and tossing him up onto the bigger one’s back.

After having visions for so long, I’ve gotten good at identifying the differences. For one, my dreams are usually pleasant, while my visions are less so.

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