Page 13 of Broken Forced Mate
“Can you?” This comes from Emin, who’s been quiet up to this point. “Or are you making choices based on information someone else provided?”
I cock my head to the side and ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Oren begins, his voice growing colder, “that six months is awfully fast to go from first meeting to engagement, especially for someone as careful as you usually are.”
He’s not wrong. I’ve always been intentional about relationships, taking my time to get to know someone before committing to anything serious. The fact that I accepted Bastian’s proposal so quickly should probably concern me.
But that’s not the point.
Bastian clears his throat, and his diplomatic training is evident in the way he handles the growing hostility in the room. “Alpha Blacklock, I understand your concern. This probably seems sudden from your perspective.”
Oren’s gaze snaps to Bastian, and I see him take in every detail. The expensive suit, the confident posture, the way Bastian carries himself like someone accustomed to handling delicate political situations. My brother doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to.
“Bastian Corvelli, as Raegan mentioned. I’m an exchange student from outside the valley, studying interpack relations at Llewelyn University.” His smile is warm and genuine, the same one that first caught my attention six months ago. “I specialize in resource management and trade agreements.”
“From where, exactly?” This question comes from Dorian, who’s leaning forward in his chair with every bit of his attention as an alpha leader assessing a potential threat.
“The eastern territories,” Bastian replies without missing a beat. “My pack focuses primarily on agricultural developmentand sustainable resource extraction. We’ve had limited contact with the Edune Valley packs until recently.”
Something about the way he phrases that makes me glance around the room. There’s an undercurrent here I don’t understand, a level of scrutiny that goes beyond typical protective big brother behavior. Ash looks particularly pale, and Veva hasn’t moved a muscle.
The questioning continues for several more minutes as each pack leader takes their turn probing Bastian’s background and intentions. He handles it all with remarkable composure, answering every question with the right combination of honesty and diplomacy.
This isn’t how either of us expected this introduction to go.
“Tell us about your family,” Ash prompts. “Your parents, siblings, extended pack connections.”
“My parents passed away when I was ten,” Bastian replies, and I squeeze his hand in support. “A hunting accident. I was raised by my maternal uncle after that, until I was old enough to study independently.”
“No siblings?” Kira asks.
“I had a younger sister. She died in the same accident that took my parents.”
The sadness in his voice when he talks about his family always gets to me. It’s one of the things we bonded over during those first few weeks of knowing each other—both of us understanding what it’s like to lose people who matter.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Dorian tells him. “That must have been difficult.”
“It was. But it also taught me not to take relationships for granted. When I met Raegan, I knew I didn’t want to waste time pretending I didn’t care about her.”
The words should make me feel warm and cherished. Instead, something about the timing of them feels calculated, like he’s using his tragedy to deflect from the more pointed questions about his background.
“What are your intentions regarding my sister?” Oren asks bluntly.
“Marriage, obviously,” Bastian answers with a slight laugh. “I love her, and I want to build a life with her. I understand that our union could have diplomatic benefits for regional cooperation, but that’s secondary to my feelings for her.”
The right answer, delivered with just the right amount of sincerity. I watch my brother’s face, hoping to see some softening, but Oren’s scowl only gets harder.
“How convenient,” he mumbles.
“Oren,” I snap. “Not everything is about politics. Some people actually fall in love without consulting territory maps first.”
“Don’t be naive, Raegan. You’re the sister of an alpha leader. Everything you do has political implications, whether you like it or not.”
“Maybe so,” I concede, lifting my chin, “but I’m still allowed to choose whom I marry.”
“Are you?” Oren stands from his chair, and his full alpha presence suffocates the room. “Or did someone else make that choice for you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand.
