Page 42 of Broken Forced Mate
She’s right. David’s terror for his daughter bleeds into my own psyche until I can barely tell the difference between his feelings and mine. The room spins around me.
“Get her out of here,” Oren orders. “She’s done enough for now.”
“No.” I straighten despite the nausea rolling through my stomach. “He’s going to help us because he understands that his daughter has a better chance of survival if Thornridge doesn’t succeed in their plans.”
David looks at me with something approaching hope. “You’ll help her?”
“I’ll try. But I need information first.”
The negotiation takes another hour. David provides details about communication schedules, supply routes, and the approximate size of the force that’s been assembled. In exchange, Oren promises to put resources toward locating and protecting David’s daughter once this immediate threat is resolved.
By the time we finish, my head feels like someone’s been using it for target practice. Veva helps me walk to the break room while Oren continues questioning our cooperative prisoner.
“That was reckless,” she tells me as she hands me a bottle of water. “Using untrained psychic abilities on hostile subjects can cause permanent damage.”
“I didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t going to talk otherwise.”
“There’s always a choice.” Veva sits across from me at the small table. “But I understand why you made the one you did. The question is whether you’re going to learn to control these abilities or let them control you.”
I drink half the water bottle before responding. “How do I control something I don’t understand?”
“The same way I learned to control my magic. Practice, patience, and accepting that some things can’t be forced.”
“Ash says the abilities will get stronger if Wyn and I…” I stop before finishing the sentence. Talking about consummating my forced marriage feels wrong on so many levels.
“Complete the bond,” Veva finishes. “She’s probably right. Bloodline magic tied to mate bonds usually requires full supernatural connection to reach maximum potential.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Your choice. But you should understand what you’re limiting by making it.”
Before I can respond, Reeyan appears in the doorway with an armload of books that look like they predate electricity. The pack historian nods to Veva, then settles into a chair.
“Ladies,” he greets us. “I have some rather disturbing historical parallels to share.”
Reeyan opens the largest tome and turns it toward us. Hand-drawn maps show territories throughout the western regions, with dates and annotations marking various conflicts over the past two centuries.
“The Thornridge tactics match patterns of territorial conquest going back to the 1800s,” he explains. “Infiltration, intelligence gathering, economic disruption, then overwhelming force applied at carefully chosen moments. I’ve explained this to Oren, but I feel you should know, considering how involved you are.”
He flashes me a sympathetic smile before he points to different sections of the maps. “Here, here, and here. Three different packs that followed identical strategies to claim territories much larger than their original holdings. They would spend months or even years positioning operatives, gathering information about local defenses and resources, then strike when their targets were most vulnerable.”
“What happened to the original inhabitants?” I ask, though I suspect I already know.
“Scattered, absorbed, or killed. Thornridge doesn’t seem interested in coexistence. There’s more,” Reeyan continues, turning pages to reveal detailed tactical analyses. “The infiltration always follows the same pattern. First, they identify high-value targets—usually unmated omegas from prominent families. Then they place an operative in a position to form a romantic attachment.”
“Like Bastian did with me.”
“Exactly. The emotional manipulation serves multiple purposes—intelligence gathering, access to secure locations, and eventually, legal claim to family resources through marriage.”
“But that didn’t work this time.”
“Which is why they’ll move to the secondary strategy. Direct action.” Reeyan closes the book with a sound like thunder. “Based on historical patterns, I estimate we have less than two weeks before they begin their primary assault.”
The room falls silent. We have two weeks to prepare for a war we’re not equipped to fight against enemies who’ve been planning this for months.
“We need more intelligence,” I blurt out. “David gave us some information, but not enough to plan effective countermeasures.”
“You’re not interrogating more prisoners,” Veva declares. “Not until we figure out how to protect you from psychic feedback.”
