Page 28 of The Wolf's Kidnapped Mate

I kidnapped her.

Strange how the fire haloed her creamy skin. She was in a pink crop top and white spandex shorts, the kind that hugged her hips to accentuate her curves. The way the firelight danced around her form, her skin appeared lit up with golden hues. Glittery tendrils—the binding spell—floated around her body, close to her flesh.

She looked like a glowing goddess. Her hands were calmly set over her thighs. Her shoulders were slouched forward slightly as her chin drooped toward her chest, but she didn’t look uncomfortable. I’d been assured by my contact that thisparticular spell, done with a simple strip of magical tape to the nape of the neck, would never cause any discomfort or harm.

It would simply keep her from moving around and talking. Eventually, her lips would be freed as that part of the spell wore off, but the rest of her would stay still. That was it. That was the spell. Minimal damage.

Well, thephysicaldamage was minimal. Emotional damage? That was for a philosophical debate later on in the evening when I chose to release her from the binds of the spell. Though I wanted so much to avoid arguing with her, I knew I would have to let her out of the spell eventually.

She would need tea, food, a bathroom break. She would need to sleep on a cushioned surface on her own terms.

She would need to talk my ear off about the conditions of her kidnapping.

I stood from the chair and went to the window, tracing the windowpane that had been diligently painted with a clear film of magical paint. This place was just outside Beaufort Creek pack land, tucked deep in the forest away from the main roads. I made sure to cover our scent using a bottle of skunk urine that Jermaine had loaded into the Jeep for me to use.

His caution matched mine. When he’d sent me that text earlier, I drove directly to him at the mansion to trade out my gorgeous hunk of a truck for the Jeep that Blake had originally offered to me. That hour had been spent preparing—and then I’d gone to collect Kylie.

My goddess-given talents weren’t merely confined to computers and technology. I was a remarkable chameleon for a wolf shifter, and I had my ways of ensuring my safety.

Now that my safety included Kylie, things looked a little different.

Clouds roamed the darkened sky. It was close to midnight now. Whenever Kylie woke back up, I would make sure to get her some tea. Sitting and staring at her was technically my duty, but I wasn’t complaining much. She looked sweet when she was asleep.

For someone who usually shits rainbows, yeah. She was sweet. I figured the rest of the mission wouldn’t be difficult once I tuned her in to the plan.

My ears tingled, causing me to turn around. The Nokia sat on top of the black bags I’d brought with us, vibrating on the lowest setting. I picked it up and checked the screen for the coded texts that the Blondes were sending me.

Their safety had been compromised. My heart sank as I read the details, feeling defeated by the mere notion of anyone getting hurt on my behalf. Though I knew going into it that the mission would be messy, I wasn’t thrilled that we’d gone off course.

At least one part of the mission was a success—and that was Bernadetti spotting us while I drove around town. He hadn’t followed us out of town because he’d gotten distracted by the Blondes. Everything had been going according to plan until the Blondes got jumped.

Jermaine had sent a small team of three wolves to intervene. Once the Blondes had been taken to safety, Jermaine had alerted me that Kylie needed to be removed from the pack. She had to be taken out of sight. We had to cover our tracks.

Hence the skunk urine.

Another text rolled in. Jermaine reported that the pack was safe. They’d been able to shake Bernadetti and put everyone on lockdown. More guilt rattled me as I returned to my chair and focused on Kylie.

Her eyelids fluttered. She was about to wake up.

The small kitchenette behind me held a wood-burning stove and a miniature ice box. Other than the bread box on the small counter, there wasn’t much else. This place had the essentials—a small pantry for dried goods and nonperishables, a cot in the corner near the fireplace, a table and a couple of chairs—so it was perfect for hiding.

Not for long. But for a little bit. Enough to catch our breath and regroup.

I poured water from a pitcher into the kettle. I set it on the stove, lit a match for the wood inside, and shut the iron door. The way it thudded seemed to echo through the room behind me, reminding me how close Kylie was to me at all times. Only a few steps away.

That should have been the terms from the start. If Blake had wanted me to be her mate as a cover, then I would have been able to play along. But pride had gotten the best of me. And then I was just plain irritated at having a wrench thrown into my plan. I was supposed to stand guard and watch, not mate with the damn girl.

But as I listened to the water start to boil inside the kettle, I glanced at Kylie. I watched her serene expression twist as she woke. I noticed the tip of her nose was red from crying earlier, and her cheeks were flushed too. Perhaps the room was too warm.

After briskly walking past her, I kicked some sand into the flames, watching them die down a bit and take some of our light.

“W-what?” Kylie croaked behind me. Sounded like part of the spell was wearing off now. She whimpered and then groaned, “Wow, my neck hurts.”

I walked past her without looking at her. “Sorry about the spell.”

She smacked her lips together a few times. “I can finally talk.Damn.”

“Sorry about that.”

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