Page 18 of Into the Dawn

My fingers trace the spot on my own neck where I almost marked her in return. The urge to claim her had been overwhelming, my beast, practically feral with the need to make her ours permanently. Now I wonder if that instinct was trying to warn me, maybe trying to protect us from this very moment.

The bleak reality of our situation presses down on my chest, and I groan, this time, in dread at what's to come, and how this has likely made things worse. The scent of our joining still hangs heavy in the air, taunting me with what could have been.

I should have just come here myself and demanded an exchange like my original plan. This fucking mate bond is making me stupid. Making me weak. Making me want things I can't have. Instead, later today, Vanessa is gonna walk me intoher family's compound and hand me over to her father and Jed to do with as they please.

She's scared, I'm scared. I don't even know if I can trust her to go against her family when the chips are down. It's a big ask for someone who's never been able to do it before. Last night, I felt a little more confident that Vanessa wouldn't leave me to rot, that she'd come through and help find a way to get us out.

Her submission to me, the way she'd bared her throat. It had felt like a promise. Although given that she's no longer here beside me, maybe my faith in her is ever so slightly misplaced.

With a loud groan, I go to rub my hands down my face, but halfway to my stubbly chin, one arm is yanked back, and something rough and hard digs into the skin around my wrist. There's something tied around it.

My sluggish brain takes a second to realize that not only is there rope wrapped around it, but it's tied me to the bed. My beast snarls, instantly alert. Where the fuck is Vanessa?

The submission she showed last night suddenly feels like a trap. A very nice, very intoxicating one, but a trap nonetheless.

"Vanessa!" I yell, confused, as I stare back at my wrist and attempt to slide my fingers under the knot to pull it free. The rope refuses to snap, and I frown at it. This isn't ordinary rope, it's designed for shifters. Which can only mean bad things for me.

When Vanessa appears in the door looking guilty, arms crossed over her chest, the sinking feeling I felt earlier turns into barely contained anger. My beast does not like to be caged, and right now, the walls of Vanessa's bedroom, with the scent of our sex still on the sheets, feel like they're closing in.

She did it again.

"What the fuck is this, Vanessa?" I growl when she refuses to meet my eye, keeping her honey blonde hair hanging down overher face to hide her shame. She shifts on her feet, twiddling her fingers together and clearing her throat.

She's done something, something really bad, and she knows I'm not gonna like it.

"Vanessa, tell me what's going on. Now. Right fucking now."

"You said last night that you weren't sure if you could do it, that you didn't want me to get hurt. Like maybe, there's another way you could do this, but there isn't, Ben. There just isn't. And I'm not letting you do it alone."

Her hands wave around, gesturing emphatically to make her point like she does when she's nervous. And she's really nervous right now as she works up the courage to stare my furious beast down.

"So, you're gonna go in there, find John, stay alive, and then we're going to work out how to get you both out. That has to be the plan."

I don't even remember going back on the plan, but I don't think there's any point mentioning that, not when Vanessa is so worked up. Though maybe I did, last night when I was lost in her, when all I could think about was claiming her, protecting her.

"That is the plan, but what the fuck is this about, Vanessa?" I say yanking on the length of rope keeping me stuck to the bed.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, pure misery sweeping across her pretty features. The same features I'd traced with my fingers just hours ago.

My blood runs cold. In the distance, I hear an engine rumbling closer. "Sorry about what?" I hiss, my eyes darting to the window and back to the love of my life who, I have a feeling, has just screwed me over.

"They wouldn't believe me if I’d told them I’d managed to escape, got you into the car and drove you to the compound. Nobody's gonna believe that you sat there and played nicely. Imean, look at the size of you, Ben. You could burst out of the trunk, you could knock me out and steal the car. Nobody's gonna buy it."

She trails off. Nobody's gonna buy that, but they're gonna buythishair-brained scheme is what she really means.

I lift up the duvet to try and stand, surprised to see I've got my boxers back on. She dressed me. Or, at least hid my modesty for me. She's got this all planned out. Maybe even did from the very start. Was last night my idea or hers? It's all started to twist and warp under the weight of the betrayal I feel.

Outside, there’s the sound of tyres on gravel, and the creak of suspension working hard as a vehicle bounces over potholes. Someone’s coming.

"I'm not gonna ask again, Vanessa, what did you do?"

Pushing back her shoulders, she straightens.

"They're on their way to pick you up."

I stare at her, horrified. This was not the way it was supposed to go. I'm in her bedroom, in her bed, for god's sake. The bed where I almost marked her, where I thought maybe we'd found our way back to each other.

"He's gonna kill me. He's gonna kill me the second he walks in the door," I say to Vanessa, staring at her. "What the hell have you done?"

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