Page 55 of Broken Forced Mate
She’s not entirely wrong. Everything I’ve done since she arrived has been about personal feelings, and since the day I met her, I’ve been unnaturally protective.
“Fine,” I relent. “Present your proposal. Let the team evaluate it on its merits.”
“Good.”
She starts to walk away, but I catch her arm. The contact sends electricity through the bond between us, and I see her fight not to react to it.
“Raegan, about last night—”
“What about it? You got what you wanted, I got what I wanted. Problem solved.”
“Is that really how you see it?”
“How else should I see it?” She pulls free from my grip. “We’re both adults. We have needs. Last night we met them. It doesn’t have to be more than that.”
But it is more than that, and we both know it. The mate bond ensures that every interaction between us carries weight, meaning, consequence, neither of us is prepared to face.
But if she needs me to pretend, then I’ll pretend.
“Right,” I agree. “Nothing more than that.”
She nods and walks away, leaving me alone with the certainty that I’ve just made another mistake. By trying to protect her, I’ve pushed her further away.
And this afternoon, she’ll present her reconnaissance proposal to the tactical team, knowing I’ll have to choose between respecting her autonomy and protecting her life.
Whatever happens next, I can’t keep treating her like something fragile that needs to be sheltered.
But I also can’t lose her to this war before I’ve had the chance to prove Maude right—that the difference between my parents’ fucked up marriage and what we could have lies in choosing to fight for each other instead of against fate.
Chapter 16 - Raegan
The council meeting dissolves into shouting within ten minutes of my proposal.
“Absolutely not,” Oren declares before slamming his hand on the table hard enough to make the coffee cups jump. “I’m not sending my sister into hostile territory on a reconnaissance mission.”
“With respect, brother,” I reply through gritted teeth, “you’re not sending me anywhere. I’m volunteering for an operation where my skills are needed.”
Wyn stands behind me with his arms crossed, scowling in disapproval. He hasn’t said a word since I presented my analysis, but his silence speaks louder than any argument.
“Your skills?” Dorian raises an eyebrow. “You’re a student, not a field operative.”
“A student with intelligence training and psychic abilities that could save lives out there.” I gesture to the maps spread across the table. “My academic research identified the infiltration patterns we’re dealing with. My powers can detect deception and hostile intent in ways your standard reconnaissance can’t.”
“Powers that are still developing,” Ash interjects from her position beside Oren. “You said yourself they’re not at full strength yet because the mate bond hasn’t fully solidified.”
My cheeks burn at the reminder of why my abilities remain incomplete. I thought I would peak once Wyn and I slept together, but according to Veva, the bond between Wyn and me requires a deeper emotional connection than what we shared in that armory. Physical intimacy without genuine trust and loveonly takes the supernatural connection so far. Until we move beyond the physical and into true emotional vulnerability, my psychic abilities will remain frustratingly limited.
So, basically, they’re as good as they’re going to get.
“They don’t need to be at full strength to be useful,” I argue. “Even at current levels, I can sense things others can’t. Emotional states, deception, hostile intent—all advantages your conventional teams don’t have.”
“The risk is too great,” Oren states from his position at the head of the table. “We can’t afford to lose assets to unnecessary exposure.”
Assets. Not people, not valuable team members. Assets.
“You mean if something happens to your little sister, your pack won’t respect you,” I snap before I can stop myself.
The room falls silent. Oren’s face remains impassive, but I catch the slight tightening around his eyes that means I’ve hit a nerve. Growing up with him taught me to read his micro-reactions, even when he thinks he’s being unreadable.
