Page 44 of Collared Mate

“Sorry, little one,” I hear an apologetic voice from someone standing nearby. “This is going to hurt like hell. Last chance to be good for us and take your human form.”

I, of course, resist. I’m not going to be threatened out of…

“Ow fuck!”

The silver water splashes over me in an acidic wave, forcing me to drop my wolf form or be burned. I am almost instantly human, naked, furious, and cursing.

“Put another collar on her!”

My back meets the ground firmly as multiple men I do not know crawl over me to put another silver circlet around my throat.

“Get the fuck off me!” I screech with rage, but nobody is listening to me. They’re doing whatever they want because what I want doesn’t matter at all.

Someone drops a coat over me.

“Get dressed,” the order comes from the scrum of men and limbs.

I want to not do it, just because he has told me to. If they don’t want to see my naked body, maybe they shouldn’t have forced me to bare it. I stand up, letting the coat drop. Everyone averts their gaze. They know what kind of nightmare they could be inviting if they get caught ogling the alpha’s mate.

“For god’s sake,” one of them says, stepping forward while the other men do their best not to inspect me intimately. He picks up the coat, wraps it around my shoulders and buttons it swiftly. He doesn’t even bother letting me put my arms through the sleeves in his hurry to make me cover up.

“What a scene you made,” the man says. He is older, perhaps in his fifties. His hair is mostly silver, with a few brushes of dark here and there. He looks at me like I am nothing more than a petulant little brat. “Go back indoors and wait for the alpha.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll cut a switch from the tree and you can explain to him why you’re being whipped when he pulls up.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I gasp. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Don’t, kid,” someone else says. “He’s not the one to test.”

“Well, neither am I.” I stand and stare at the man, who to be honest, seems very average and normal looking. He has a face that’s fine, not super handsome, not super ugly. I don’t recognize him. “What’s your name?”

“Marcus,” he says. “And you’re going to march your sassy ass back indoors and go to your room until Henry comes back.”

“And if I don’t?”

There’s a weird tension in the air as I ask that question. A lot of eyes are going between him and me, as if something notable is happening. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I can feel it. I guess the old man is someone special to the pack. The accountant, maybe. Rick worships our accountants like they’re gods and I guess they may as well be, though they don’t usually go around forcing naked women to get dressed.

“Then I suppose I can spank you,” he says. “As I’m going to be your father-in-law.”

My face flames bright red as that word comes out of his mouth as casually as if it’s something he says every day. The fact of his identity hits a moment later.

This is Henry’s father.

I forget that other people have parents who are alive. He might even have a mother somewhere.

I stare at the man, realizing that I’ve already made a huge scene, trying to weigh up whether or not I want to make a bigger one. If I turn around and meekly go upstairs, he thinks he has power over me. If I don’t… I end up in a fight with my father-in-law… which assumes Henry and I are going to be married. Which is a lot because he hasn’t asked me.

“Go on,” he says. “Back in the house with you. Henry won’t be far away and I promise you don’t want him to catch you out here.”

I find myself on the brimming verge of an absolute meltdown. I do not like being told what to do. In the Swale household, nobody told me or Rick what to do. Being spoken to this way feels incredibly disrespectful, as if I’m some little girl being sent to her room. I should go and snip this collar off too, then take my wolf form and fight them better. They had the element of surprise. That’s the only reason I lost, I tell myself.

“Go,” he says, more firmly.

“Fine!”

I turn and storm indoors, with a half-dozen friends and relations of my mate watching me go in the most petulant and thoroughly messy manner possible.