Page 52 of Broken Forced Mate
I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours, but my wolf won’t let me rest.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Raegan’s face when she walked out of that armory. The self-loathing in her voice when she called what we did a mistake. The way she wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to hold the pieces together.
I fucked up. Again.
The coffee in my mug has gone cold, but I drink it anyway. The bitter taste matches my mood as I stare at the intelligence reports spread across my desk. New patrol schedules, defensive positions, supply inventories—everything we need to survive what’s coming.
But none of it explains this gnawing feeling that I’m missing something crucial about last night.
A knock interrupts my brooding. I expect Jay or one of the tactical team, but Maude enters instead.
She closes the door behind her and takes the seat across from me. Her weathered hands fold in her lap as she looks at me with the same maternal concern she’s shown since I arrived. In many ways, Maude has become the mother I never had—the one who listens without judgment and offers guidance when I’m too stubborn to ask for it.
“You look terrible,” she comments.
I rub the back of my neck and admit, “Haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I imagine not. Mate bonds have a way of making everything more difficult.”
My head snaps in her direction.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
She tilts her head back and laughs. “Child, I’ve been watching wolves find their mates for sixty years. You think I can’t recognize the signs? What I can’t understand is, you’re torturing yourself over something that should bring you joy.”
“Joy?” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. “She hates me, Maude. And she has every right to.”
“Does she? Or does she hate the situation you’ve both been forced into?”
“I kidnapped her. Forced her into marriage. Took advantage of her when she was vulnerable.” Each confession feels like swallowing glass. “What kind of mate does that make me?”
Maude is quiet for a long moment as she tilts her head to the side. “Tell me about your parents’ marriage.”
I scrunch my nose and snort. “What about it?”
“How did they meet? How did your father court your mother?”
“He didn’t court her. It was arranged. Political alliance between their families.”
“And how did that work out?”
We both know how it worked out. The same way arranged marriages usually work out. With years of resentment and emotional abuse disguised as tradition.
When I don’t answer, she asks, “Are you so afraid of becoming him that you can’t see the difference between force and fate?”
I want to argue, to insist that what I’ve done is unforgivable. But Maude’s gentle voice keeps cutting through my defenses.
“Your father never questioned his actions because he believed he was entitled to take what he wanted. You’ve been questioning yours since the moment you made them. That difference matters, Wyn.”
“I’m not so sure. The result is the same. Raegan is trapped here against her will.”
“She could’ve refused to sign the marriage license. Or, if she genuinely felt coerced, she could’ve demanded a divorce once she was back home. Her brother would have supported her choice.”
The truth of that statement settles uncomfortably in my chest. Raegan chose to go through with the marriage, even when she could have backed out.
“She did it to protect her pack,” I counter.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps she did it because some part of her recognized what you are to each other, even if she couldn’t admit it consciously. Although I suspect she does know.”
