Page 16 of Unbreakable Bond
Chapter 8
His head hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.Rafe struggled to sit upright. His muscles screamed in protest and everything ached. He squinted in the fluorescent-lit room and growled as his surroundings began to makesense.
Concrete walls. Concrete floors. A metal cot with a bare mattress and an open toilet in thecorner.
“Son of a…” Rafe dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed at hisface.
His brother had thrown him into a jail cell. The little shit. He’d had the sheriff tranq him and while he was out they’d thrown him in a cell. Bastards. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing except try to claim his mate. Michael was the one that had gotten in the way. Michael was the one that had interfered. He should be the one in this cell but of course he wasn’t. Because Michael was PackAlpha.
Rafe’s head hurt too bad to even think about how that was his own doing. How he was the one that should have been Pack Alpha. Should have been making the decisions. Should have spent the past few years creating a life and a family with his mate instead of roaming the country alone with no place to callhome.
His mate. Zoey. The fog that had been clouding his skull cleared at the thought of her. Zoey.HisZoey.
He could smell her. It was faint but there. The sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon. His woman’s scent. He’d know it anywhere. He sniffed his clothes and smiled softly. He was covered in her scent but that wasn’t where it was coming from. That was mixed with his already, just the way he wantedit.
The scent his nose had picked up on was something else. Something that made his blood hot and his fists curl. Zoey’s scent mixed with someone else’s. Mixed withMichael’s.
He swallowed a growl and lunged at the bars. He needed out of here. Now. A cell couldn’t hold him, not when he was determined to get to hismate.
Only as soon as his hands closed on the bars he hissed in pain and jerked back as if he’d been burned. No, not as if. He stared down at the welts on his palms and growled again. Silver. The bars of the cell were reinforced with silver. The one metal that could harm a wolf. He cursed his brother all over again. Of course Michael would think of installing silver into the bars of the cells at the local jail. He’d always been smart and a pain in theass.
Rafe swiped his hands on his shirt and retreated to the bunk. He couldn’t escape. Couldn’t get out. Not on hisown.
He tried to focus on his other senses. He could smell Zoey. She was somewhere nearby. So was Michael and someone else. The Sheriff maybe? He couldn’t be sure. His ears pricked and he could pick up bits and pieces of the conversation they were havingupstairs.
A smile nudged at his mouth as he listened in. Zoey. His sweet, fiery mate was yelling. Not just yelling but yelling at Michael. She was yelling at the Alpha of the pack. For him. But his smile faded as he listened to his brother yelling right back ather.
A growl hung in his throat. Michael had no right. None. He didn’t get to yell at Zoey. He didn’t get to keep them apart. But stronger than the anger was the worry he felt building inside of him. His mate was challenging the Pack Alpha and Rafe wasn’t there to protect her because he’d handled everything all wrong and gotten himself lockedup.
He needed out of this cell. Now. Silver or no silver. His mate neededhim.
He knew that Michael had feelings for Zoey. His brother wouldn’t harm her. Not on purpose. But at some point, he would have to stand up to her. Because he was Pack Alpha. He would have to show his strength and shut her down. And Rafe couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let his brother punish her for defendinghim.
Instead of trying to pry the bars open again, he went to the small window. The bars there were probably laced with silver too so he didn’t bother. He focused on the concrete blocks instead. With a whole lot of energy, he might be able to punch his way through but that tranquilizer had weakened him. It would take too long and he didn’t know how much time he had left before someone came to check on himor…
The sound of footsteps behind him had him spinning back towards the front of the cell. He was prepared for the worst. For another tranquilizer from that bastard Sherriff or for his brother. He hadn’t been prepared to seeheron the other side though and relief squeezed hisheart.
“Zoey.” He rushed towards him and only caught himself a moment before he touched thebars.
“Shh, they’ll hear us.” She hushed as she moved towards him quickly now. “I snuck away but we don’t have long until they realize I’m not in thebathroom.”
All of his aches and pains disappeared with her nearness. The only thought in his head was how to get closer to her. He needed to touch her, feel her, tasteher.
She looked beautiful. She would always look beautiful to him. Because she washis.
But he couldn’t help the snarl that tore from his throat when he caught a whiff of his brother’s scent coming from her. He scowled She was still wearing that tiny, slip of a red dress that made his wolf salivate but she had a thin hunter-green jacket with the gold emblem of the Sherriff’s station on the sleeve pulled over it, as if she’d gotten cold. The jacket. It was Michael’s. And he wanted to gut his brother for giving it to her to wear when he must have known how it would rileRafe.
“What’s wrong?” She whispered as she curled her fingers over the bars of the cage he was trapped in. “You don’t look happy to seeme.”
“That jacket.” He spit through gritted teeth. “Take it off.Now.”
Her brows furrowed and she looked at the jacket, “What?Wh…”
“Now. Zoey. Take it off or I swear I’m going to rip it off you.” He watched her eyes flare with recognition and heat, “It smells like my brother and you should only, ever, smell like me. Take. It.Off.”
She bit her lip and her cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink. She shrugged her shoulders and the jacket slid to the floor. He groaned when she followed the order and his blood boiled hot for another reason. She’d followed his command, taken off the offending article of clothing, and on top of that now he could see so much more of her pale, porcelainskin.
His. She was his. And the heat was going to his head being this close toher.
