Page 68 of Campfires & Canines
I push up with my hands, wincing at my aching wrists. I’m not graceful, but I manage. To my dismay, my jeans tore in the struggle, gaping open to reveal my inner thigh.
Sienna sashays closer.
"Leave me alone," I growl, raising my chin.
She reaches for me, her fingers tipped with crimson stiletto nails. Pinching my shirt, she tugs the neckline to the side to see my claim mark.
The bandage ripped off during the struggle, so she has a clear view of the new scabs. I jerk to the side.
"Pity." She sighs. "Don't worry, those will fade."
The words don’t make sense. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, you didn't complete the claiming," she casually answers, like mentioning what’s for dinner.
"What do you mean?" I grit my teeth so hard my jaw clicks.
"Did you have sex with him?" she asks, her cold eyes meeting mine.
"None of your business." I curl my lip. It's not exactly a normal topic of conversation to have with your boyfriend's estranged mother.
"You didn't," she responds curtly, flipping her dark waves over her shoulder. "Your mark will be gone within a few days."
She’s lying. If we weren’t finished, he would have told me.
But if she isn’t… we could still complete it. Or if the worst happens, he could be free of me. He won’t live in unavoidable pain from losing me.
A few tears escape and drip down my cheeks. My teeth sink into my bottom lip. I won’t grieve. Not when I can still get back to him.
"I think you can do better," she suggests with a shrug. "Jasper was certainly taken with you."
I go rigid. Did she kidnap me to set me up with her other son? Right after she threatened my life and therefore prompted her first son into claiming me?
Clearing my raw throat, I quip, "Not interested."
"Well, once this mark fades, I'm sure he can win you over. Or there are other ways to motivate you. But I’m sure that won’t be necessary."
"Why?” I ask. “I'm just a random human."
"You have alpha blood. You're the heir to Cypress's line." I vaguely recognize the name of my paternal grandfather.
But how am I an heir? I’m not even a shifter. It makes more sense to go for someone like Hawthorne or his daughters. But thank goodness she didn’t. I can’t stand the thought of those sweet girls in danger.
She continues, her voice musical, "Your blood has rights to that pack. It has power."
"Okay, that's creepy," I say.
Her hand shoots out and slaps me across the face, knocking me over onto the arm of the sofa.
"Be respectful," she commands.
In my head, I’m screaming profanities at her, but I manage to clench my jaw shut. My skin burns where she struck me.
"I'll leave you to settle in. It'll be a quiet week waiting for that-" She waves her hand at me. "To fade."
I jerk the zip ties around my wrists. They're cutting into me. It hurts enough I'm willing to trade my remaining dignity for some relief. "Can you cut these zip ties?"
She shrugs. "We learn through pain." So that’s a no.
