Page 7 of Betrayed Bullied Mate

“We both know that’s not why I’m here,” the shifter says, stepping fully into my house. After a moment, he screws up his nose, then coughs hard. “Fuck, this place is a cesspool of smells. Like… Bleach? And why all these fucking candles?”

I shrug, enjoying the fact that all the smells are probably burning his nose. “Doesn’t bother me.”

His eyes narrow, and he stalks forward, his arm clamping hard around my bicep. My hands fly up to it immediately, trying to pry it off, but it’s like pushing against concrete.

“Funny,” he says, starting to drag me out, glancing down at my attempts to free myself. Now, the panic is full-throttle. Varun has never cared about me before and has let me do what I want on the outskirts of town. The only reason he’d be sending for me is if he knows what I’m planning. So why doesn’t it seem like his lackey knows what’s going on?

A burst of adrenaline sparks through me, and I dig in my heels, using one hand to hit him in the lower back, near the kidney, as hard as I can. I think it’s more from surprise than from genuine pain, but he releases me, and I stumble back, trying to make a run for the back door.

There’s no way I can outrun him. I know that. As someone who can’t even shift, my natural physical abilities are similar to that of a human. But I have to try and get away, give myself the best possible chance for survival. I won’t let him take me without a fight.

Unbidden, my mind races back to high school, to the torture I used to go through with Aris and his buddies. Though they were always pushing me, pinching my sides, Aris never laid a hand on me. His attacks were all verbal, and they were much worse than the bra-snapping and hair-pulling. Right now, I almost wish it were Aris tracking me down. At least I know he wouldn’t hurt me.

When I hear the shifter’s heavy steps behind me in the hallway, I turn, grab a nearby vase, and crash it over his head as hard as I can. It splinters and ricochets, bouncing off the floor and walls, a piece of it wedging into my hand. I cry out in pain but use the delay to my advantage, bolting toward the laundry room and back door of the house.

The shifter growls loudly, more in frustration than from his wounds, and continues barreling after me. I’m so close that I can see the moonlight glinting off the trees in the backyard. Two more steps, and I can slam the door in his face, maybe make it to my car—

My hand is wrapping around the doorknob when two arms circle around my waist, yanking me back so hard my neck stings, and I taste blood from where I’ve bitten my tongue.

“Let’s go,” the shifter says, hefting me up over his shoulder. “I don’t have time for this fucking nonsense. You’re lucky the boss wants you unharmed.”

Moments later, my hands are tied, and I’m tossed into the backseat of a large SUV, bouncing once on the cold leather. I use my feet to push into a sitting position as the shifter climbs into the driver’s seat. I can see a trickle of blood tracing down behind his right ear, where a piece of glass is lodged, and I feel a small victory that I’ve managed to strike back, even if it’s mostly futile.

He presses the gas, revving fast and braking hard as we make our way through town. Without a seatbelt and with no hands to stabilize myself, I jostle around, hitting the side of my head painfully against the window. I see streetlights pass by in a blur through the window and wonder what Varun is going to do to me.

I’ve never heard of anyone else deserting the pack in the way I planned, but I have seen Varun punish a girl for spilling a drink on him, forcing her to chug the rest of the bottle, then get on her hands and knees, licking up what had spilled. The memory makes me sick, and my body shakes at the idea of going back to that bar.

Finally, the SUV swings violently into a spot outside the bar, and the lackey circles around, opening the door and catching me as I fall out. He hefts me over his shoulder again, and I close my eyes to keep from getting sick.

I feel him push through a door, then I feel us pushing through the people in the bar. My cheeks are warm, feeling the humiliation of what’s happening now and also what’s about to happen. There’s nothing to stop Varun from doing whatever he wants.

At last, I’m set on my feet, and to my surprise, the shifter reaches behind me, grabbing the ties and undoing the rope around my hands. I immediately bring them around the front of my body, rubbing at my wrists, and open my eyes, sure I’m going to see Varun pointing a gun at me, or some terrible torture contraption.

Instead, I see Aris Cadell, fire and fury in his eyes so bright that I feel seared clean through when he looks at me. Our eyes lock, and every cell in my body seems to relax. The low, thrumming headache that seems to be constantly in the back of my mind calms, and for the first time in a long time, I feel mentally clear. It’s as though my organs and bones are saying finally.

“Aris,” I gasp, without meaning to, and I can tell from the look on his face that he feels it too—the mating bond that never got a chance to develop because he left right after it established itself between us.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but clearly, he still wants nothing to do with me. Instead of striding toward me, taking me in his arms, and fulfilling the undeniable urge I’ve had for years now, his eyes cut to Varun, something cold and unforgiving glinting there.

“What the fuck is this?”

Chapter 5 - Aris

The shifter who brings Linnea in has her hefted over his shoulder, a hand splayed across her ass to keep her in place. When he sets her down on the floor, I take in everything at once: the way her knees almost buckle but hold, how her entire body is shaking, the fear rolling off of her in waves, tinged with a bit of defiance.

Unable to stop my memory from taking over, I think back to what she was like in high school, how she would wear the uniform with pants every day, how her hair would frizz up when it was raining. I think about how she was the valedictorian of our class and how I’d teased her relentlessly for focusing on her studies and working hard in class.

She’s everything I remember and more. She has her head tipped up, chin raised against the indignity of what’s happening to her. My eyes roam over her body. She’s wearing high-waisted jeans and a jacket. My fingers itch to unzip it and get a closer look at her. What was once unrefined and looser in high school is now fully formed, her figure all curves.

Her hair is loose, spilling out in waves over her shoulder, mussed from being carried like that. Her cheeks are still round, her lips plump, freckles spilling out over her nose and down her cheeks like stardust. I sniff, hoping to smell her for the first time in years, but all that comes off her is a powerful and revolting mix of bleach, synthetic fragrances, and chemicals. It’s like she doesn’t want to be detected.

I both see and smell the blood scent coming off the shifter, and I can’t help the bit of pride that wells inside me. The rogue is ugly, with a pinched face and yellowing hair, and I notice the way he looks around the bar, finding Varun and practically begging for his approval. I swallow bile in my throat—the entire dynamic is disgusting.

The rogue lifts his hand to his head, wiping away some of the blood, and I wonder how she managed to get him there. Linnea fought back against this guy, even though there was no chance in hell she was going to best him. It makes me wonder if she knew he was bringing her here. But for what, I’m not sure.

My eyes skip to Varun. Is it possible he knows about the mating bond? I left Rosecreek right after high school graduation and steered clear of Linnea the night it snapped into place, not giving it a single chance to grow any stronger. I refused to believe it was true, but I feel it now, stronger than ever.

Linnea meets my eyes, and my body reacts, urging me to move to her. All at once, I feel a thousand conflicting emotions. I want to take her in my arms, run my hands over every inch of her, catalog every way she’s been hurt. I want to bend her over the counter just behind her. I want to beat the shit out of the shifter who had his hands on her, but I stay composed.

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