Page 11 of Rejecting his Mate

Bile collects in my throat as I grit my teeth.

We are alone out here, but even if there were a pack member to witness him manhandling me like this, nothing would be done. No one would step in or say anything. I am his. This is the deal I signed up for.

My claiming mark on my neck, the bite all wolves can give to their mates, chosen or fated, burns like fire. I know it is in my head, that it is not really hurting, but I feel every inch of it seared into my skin like a brand.

Because that’s what it is. It is a mark that tells the world he owns me.

I hate it and what it represents. I wish I could tear it off me.

“You are my mate,” he says, his words rough. “I can touch you however I want.”

“I’m your mate, not your doll to play with.”

He turns my neck to the side, giving him better access to my claiming mark, and lowers his head. His tongue swipes over the bite, and a shudder goes through my body as his saliva licks my skin.

The reaction is instantaneous and uncontrollable as my body comes alive at my mate’s touch. My breasts feelheavy, and heat washes over me. I clamp my legs together, trying to stop wetness from flooding my pussy.

No, I don’t want this.

I’ve never wanted him, but he uses the claiming mark to control my body.

Sensing my distress, my wolf pulls her teeth into a snarl, baring pointed incisors designed to kill. If I could change into my wolf form, she would tear Dalton’s throat out, alpha’s son or not.

“Don’t,” I hiss, trying to shove him back.

He ignores my protest and I feel his tongue against me again, swiping over the mark once more.

I slam against him with everything I have, and to my relief, it’s enough to make him go back a step. He’s not the only one with wolf strength.

Once I’m free of him, I put distance between us, stumbling away from his reach. It’s a false sense of security because there is nothing that can stop him from putting his hands on me again if he chooses.

I ready my body for a fight, my stance low and loose as my hand flies to the claiming mark, holding it as if my blood is spilling out of it. It feels that way.

Dalton glares at me, but he doesn’t move. The alpha waves coming off him are meant to subdue me, and it takes everything I have to fight against him.

“Stay back,” I warn as he steps toward me.

I don’t know what I saw in him. When I agreed to this match, he was…different.

Less of an asshole.

His perfect blond hair and piercing blue eyes alongside his muscular frame and the dusting of freckles overhis nose is enough to make any wolf, or human, fall at his feet.I was taken with him. I thought our friendship would create a solid mating bond that would, in time, grow stronger.

I wanted to believe that he was everything I dreamed of in a mate, and at first, he was. But his need to control me is not something I can stand. I’m not an animal in a cage. I’ll never be that.

Dalton might look like an angel, but there is a darkness that beats inside him. While he was enthusiastic about mating me, a Beauford, that has soured in the six months since we underwent the mating ceremony.

I’m not sure what changed, but maybe it was all just an act to bind my family to his. My blood mixed with his... we would make powerful pups.

He wants to create a legacy.

I wanted to find happiness with my chosen mate. Most wolves never find their fated mate, so mates are chosen instead. Our kind don’t do well alone. It is both a blessing and a curse that turning lone wolf can drive us to the brink and create feral beasts that can’t control themselves.

The disdain he has for me, the disrespect, frightens me. He doesn’t want a partner; he wants a puppet he can control whichever way he wants.

“You dare to order me to stay away from what is mine?”

I’m not surprised when he shoots me a hostile glare, but my heart does squeeze tight enough to steal the air from my lungs. It shouldn’t be like this.

---