Page 40 of Sold Wolf Slave

Kendra had gone pale. She started pacing again, running her fingers through her hair as she began to panic. My heart broke seeing the wild fear spreading across her face. I wanted nothing more than to soothe her.

I walked over to her. I reached out and took her wrists, trying to get her to stop pacing. “Kendra, Kendra. It’s going to be all right.” I tried to pull her against me to get her to calm down enough to think clearly. “If he’s that possessive of her, he isn’t going to hurt her.”

She pushed me away, anger burning in her eyes. “You don’t know that,” she snarled. Her teeth had lengthened to fangs. “You don’t know anything about this place. You think you know what Cain is like, but you don’t. The longer she’s there, the more danger she’s in. If she says one wrong word…” She trailed off, as if the words had lodged in her throat and refused to come out.

“We’re still going to get her,” I promised. “And we’re going to take down Cain.”

Her lips thinned into a tight line as she glared up at me, her jaw tightening. I could see the anger burning in her eyes and could practically sense what she wanted to say to me. That she didn’t care about taking down Cain right then, or about the mission, or anything like that. The only thing she cared about was getting her sister back. As of now, I have failed that job.

“Is that the only reason you’re helping?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “Here’s a question: say that freeing Morgan was an inconvenience to your mission, that going after her would jeopardize everything you’ve worked toward. Would you still help her?”

“I’d be helping her by taking Cain down,” I argued.

Kendra’s eyes narrowed to slits, and her fingers lengthened to claws. I knew I had said precisely the wrong thing.

“You’re avoiding the question,” she snapped.

“Kendra, I know you’re upset, but you need to trust—”

“Trust you?” she asked, interrupting me with a sharp laugh. “Trust the guy who married me after winning me in a fighting pit? I’ve done nothing but trust you for days now. And guess what? Morgan is still under Cain’s thumb, with no sign of her getting out. I’m still stuck here with a collar around my neck.” She made a sound of disgust. “I’m sick of all this talk. Either do something, or admit that you can’t.”

She turned and walked up the stairs in silence. A moment later, a door slammed shut with such force that the entire house rattled.

“That went well,” Nolan remarked.

Chapter 15 - Kendra

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, letting the anger and anxiety melt away. Guilt gnawed at me for how I had shouted at Will. But I had been so fucking angry. All he cared about was the mission. Not me. Not Morgan. Not even himself, when it came down to it. It was only ever about the mission.

But as much as I tried to hold onto that anger, I couldn’t deny my growing attraction to Will. Part of me admired his dedication, his desire to do as much good in the world as possible. If the circumstances had been different, if we hadn’t met the way we had, who knew what might have happened?

Whatever happened, I wouldn’t be able to forget the sex. He had seemed to know exactly what I wanted every moment, as if in tune with me in a way no one else ever had been. Just thinking about how he had felt inside me set a warmth alight between my legs.

Except it wasn’t that simple. Nothing here was that simple. I wanted to grow closer to him. I wanted to have sex with him again, to get to know him better. If I weren’t his slave, if we were both out in the real world and ran into one another, I would have no issue with any of it. But I was his slave, and that immediately changed everything. I could never fully trust him or feel like his equal as long as this collar remained locked around my neck.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Regardless, I needed to apologize. I could have handled that whole situation better. I shouldn’t have yelled at him. Still, I let the rest of the anger and all the heightened emotions subside as I continued gazing at the ceiling. Once most of the pent-up frustration subsided, I slid off the bed and walked downstairs.

Will was alone, lounging on the couch. That, at least, was a small mercy. The instant he saw me, he sat up straight, getting to his feet, those blue eyes never leaving my face.

“Hey,” he said slowly.

“I’m sorry for the outburst,” I said.

Shaking his head, he said, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You’re worried about Morgan.” He hesitated. “If anything, I should apologize to you for how I handled the whole thing. I need you to know that I care about Morgan, and I want to help her. I truly do.”

I believed him. But I also didn’t believe that if it came to it, he would pick her over salvaging the mission. After everything I had seen, all the goodness in him, I wanted to believe he would help Morgan, but I couldn’t be sure. And that uncertainty ate at me. It made it impossible for me to fully open up to him. I respected his determination, but I would throw everything else away in a heartbeat if it meant saving Morgan. And I knew he wouldn’t.

I growled, beginning to pace back and forth as all the pent-up frustration I thought I had gotten rid of resurged.

“I hate all of this,” I ranted, running my fingers through my hair. “I hate the waiting, I hate how utterly and completely useless I feel, and I hate how I have no idea how to help.”

When I turned again, I was surprised to see how close he was. I blinked, almost taking a step back, but not quite. His hand went to my arm, and it was hard for me not to think about how those hands had felt running along my entire body.

“I know you’re upset,” he said gently. The understanding and compassion in his voice soothed some of the thoughts racing through me, as if the simple act of validating my reaction wasenough to ease my emotions. “I want you to know that I’m doing everything I can to get her out. I promise.”

I wanted to believe him. I desperately did. But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that he would always pick the mission over my sister. The look in his eyes told me he had asked himself that same question, but I couldn’t tell what conclusion he had come to.

His hand slid down my arm until it reached my hand. His fingers entwined with mine.

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