Page 15 of Brutal Alpha's Forced Mate

She snorts and flips her red hair over her shoulder. “Oh, this should be good. Let me guess—you missed having me around? Needed a scapegoat to blame when things go wrong?”

“Jaslyn.” My voice is sharper than I intend, and she blinks, startled into silence. I soften my tone and continue. “It’s not about that. It’s about the pack. About what’s been happening to us.”

She studies me for a moment as her gaze searches mine for answers. “I’m listening.”

I take a deep breath, and the words are heavy as they leave my mouth. “We’ve been under attack. Not just Red Arrow, but Starfire Hollow and East Hills, too. Demons. They’ve been hitting us harder and more frequently than ever before.”

Her face doesn’t change, but I see the slight shift in her posture—the way her shoulders tense, the way her fingers twitch at her sides. “Demons,” she repeats, her voice flat.

“Yes. Two attacks on Red Arrow territory in the last six months. The last one killed two of our pack members and injured five others. And every sign points to another attack soon.”

She shakes her head slowly, like she’s trying to piece it together. “And what does that have to do with me?”

“It’s not just the attacks,” I explain, stepping closer. “It’s how they’re targeting us. They’re going after the packs without magical protection. Damien and Alec—” I stop, realizing she might not recognize the names. “The alphas of Starfire Hollow and East Hills. They’ve both married witches, and their packs have wards in place. Red Arrow doesn’t. We’re the most vulnerable.”

“So, what? You bought me because you think I can slap some wards on your territory and make the problem go away?”

“It’s more than that. You’re not just some random witch, Jaslyn. This is your home. Your mother was Red Arrow, and that makes this pack a part of you, whether you want to admit it or not. It’s in your blood, and that makes this personal for you, too. We need you—your magic, your knowledge, your strength. Without you, we’re fighting a losing battle.”

I can see the questions brewing in her eyes, the doubts she doesn’t want to voice. And I know that no matter what I say next, it won’t be enough to erase the past.

But I have to try.

“Let me get this straight,” Jaslyn says. “You brought me back because the pack needs magical protection, and youthought I’d just… what? Jump into a leadership role like nothing happened just because my mother was one of you?”

I suppress a sigh. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it’s not,” she snaps, crossing her arms. “Nothing with you ever is. What aren’t you telling me, Gray?”

There’s no point in dodging it. She’s too sharp for that. “The marriage,” I admit, meeting her gaze. “It’s part of it.”

Her brows shoot up, and for a second, I think she might actually laugh. “Part of it?” she repeats, her tone incredulous. “You mean I had to marry you for this to work? It wasn’t about helping the pack accept me at all. Was that some kind of magical prerequisite, or are you just making up rules as you go?”

“It’s not a rule,” I say quickly. “It’s about optics. The pack—”

“Optics,” she cuts in, shaking her head. “You mean you needed to make sure no one questioned why you brought me back after everything. Got it.”

“That’s not—” I stop myself, exhaling slowly. “Yes, it helps with the pack. I didn’t lie about that. But that’s not the only reason.”

“Oh, this should be good,” she mutters, glaring at me. “Go on. Enlighten me.”

I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “I married you to protect you, Jaslyn. Not just from the pack, but from anyone who might see you as a threat—or a tool. As my mate, you’re untouchable. No one can challenge your place here. No one can try to use you against us.”

Her expression falters for a moment, and something unreadable moves across her face. But just as quickly, her wallsgo back up. “So, what? I’m your charity case now? Your personal damsel in distress?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I reply, keeping my tone calm despite the frustration building in my chest. “This isn’t about pity. It’s about making sure you’re safe. I couldn’t protect you back then, but I can now.”

She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You think this makes up for what you did? For what you let happen to me?”

“No,” I state, stepping closer. “I don’t. But it’s a start.”

The silence that follows is heavy, the kind that presses against your ribs and makes it hard to breathe. She stares at me like she’s trying to decide whether to yell at me or walk away. Finally, she exhales sharply, breaking the tension.

“Fine,” she says. “You want my help? You’ve got it. But I have conditions.”

I arch a brow. “Conditions?”

“That’s right. First, this marriage? It’s only on paper. No playing house, no pretending we’re something we’re not. Clear?”

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