“Shit, shit, shit,” Willa muttered, sending another pillow sailing across the room at the door.

How had it come to this? And what was it with the stubborn men in her life that couldn’t listen worth a damn? If even one of them used the ears god gave them, she wouldn’t be in this situation. They all just ran over her like a fleet of tanks, from her father, to her ex, and now Drake.

A blast of guilt cooled her anger for a brief second as she recalled the expression on his face.

She had hurt him.

Bad. And she hated that she had.

But if he would give her a chance to explain…

Although, why would he believe her now?

“You’ve done nothing but lie to him,” she reminded herself flatly.

And it was true. The entire time they’d known each other, she’d been pulling out all the stops trying to trick him and get away. Luck would have it that, when she finally stopped…when she’d finally seen the light and accepted Drake as her mate, Grey showed up to “rescue” her.

She ran a hand through her tangled hair.

She should’ve contacted Grey. Or tried to call back Maggie to tell her everything was all right. Grey’s bride was far too bright not to read between the lines of the cryptic phone called she’d made for help. It had been wishful thinking to hope that she would just let it go when she’d realized her folly.

And now everything had fallen apart. She’d gone from captive, to lover, and back again. It was a bitter pill to swallow when she’d had all she’d ever wanted in her grasp.

Blinking back another hot rush of tears, she padded over to the tiny bathroom. She stripped off her robe with a sigh, peering down at the already half-healed gash on her leg.

Drake had felt bad about it. Which meant he still cared. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have dropped Grey and leapt after her, and he certainly wouldn’t have been worried about her injury. He could pretend otherwise, but he still felt something for her. He had to.

Now she just had to figure a way to get him to admit that. If not to her, at least to himself.

Baby steps.

She climbed into the shower stall and put the water on full blast, desperate to wash away the grime of the night, wishing she could wash away the regret and bitter sadness as easily.

She took her time and, half an hour later, she came out and quickly dressed in a clean robe. The last of the adrenaline had drained from her blood, leaving her wrung out. Raw, exhausted and feeling like she’d been put through a meat grinder.

When the bedroom door swung open a few minutes later, she jumped at the sound, her frayed nerves getting the better of her.

“Don’t look so surprised. I’m not going to knock in my own keep,” Drake said in a clipped tone as he stepped into the room, the chains he held in his hands jangling as he walked. “I’ll be coming and going as I please.”

His words barely registered and her mouth went bone dry as she stared down at the gleaming steel links with manacles hanging from the ends.

He was seriously going to chain her up. And those chains were no joke. Thick, strong links that would be hard—if not impossible—to break, even with her superhuman strength.

Trapped.

The wolf in her sparked to panicked life at the thought of it.

A predator’s only true fear. She had a brief mental freak out, imagining herself gnawing off her own paw to escape after months of captivity, before she took a steadying breath.

This was short term. She had to believe that.

She’d only be chained for as long as it took Drake to realize that she hadn’t betrayed him. She’d just made a mistake. A dire mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. And once he got the anger out of his system and was willing to listen…really listen, she was sure she’d be able to convince him of the truth.

But trying to tell him again now, when he was so convinced she was attempting to manipulate him again? It would only make it worse for her. Maybe it was better to let this play out for a few days until he cooled off, even if it meant being chained. The knowledge that he would never truly hurt her would keep her sane.

“Sit,” he demanded, jerking his chin to the corner of the room where a double bed blanketed in white linens sat.

She crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed silently and he followed, chains a-jangling.

“Hold out your right wrist,” he said, his icy gaze locked on a point somewhere over her shoulder.

She did as she was told, tamping down a wave of panic as the cold steel manacle closed over her wrist. Short term. She’d made this choice…she’d fought Greyson tooth and nail for the chance to stay with Drake, and now she was going to see it through. Because what they had before everything went horribly wrong?

Was worth fighting for.

She lifted her chin and held out her other hand before he asked for it.

“No,” he muttered. “Lie back.”

She did as he asked, heart pounding. Was he getting in the bed with her? As much as she wanted him to, just so she could feel him beside her…breathe in his scent, she wasn’t sure how rage-filled Drake would be as a lover.

How far was he willing to take this whole punishment thing?

She watched, breath suspended, as he locked the other side of the manacle to the bedpost before rounding the bed. His intention became clear as she noted that he had four separate shackles.

One for each limb.

She shuddered as the second cuff closed around her other wrist. It took everything she had not to move. To stay still and not fight him. She needed to earn his trust again. And she would, no matter what it took.

She let her eyes drift shut as he made his way to the bottom of the bed, taking each ankle in a firm hold and subjecting them to the same treatment as her hands.

A minute later, it was done. She was well and truly chained, with only a few inches of give in any direction. She tested the steel instinctively and he snicked his tongue at her.

“These manacles are made to be strong enough to hold a dragon, little wolf. Don’t bother trying to break them. There’s an intercom button under the table near your right hand. I had it installed for when I got around to hiring a live-in staff, but it will work well enough for our purposes. If you need the bathroom at night, press it. I don’t want to hear from you otherwise.”

She let her eyes drift open and met his gaze, a blast of heat rushing through her as he flicked a grudging glance to her exposed cleavage. The robe had gaped open, both at the top, and between her thighs, and she realized with a start that she was near bare to him in all the wrong—or right—places.

She kept her gaze pinned on him as she bent her knee, letting the robe slip off her thigh, revealing her from hip to ankle. A rush of satisfaction washed over her as his nostrils flared and his focus drifted down the length of her body.

He was looking slightly less enraged, and she took a risk, taking advantage of his distraction to try to talk some sense into him.

“If I wanted out of here, I could’ve left with Greyson, Drake. We could’ve shifted and ran like the frigging wind. Been gone before you even awoke. Ask yourself why we didn’t,” she whispered into the silent room.

His jaw clenched as he met her gaze again, the green of his eyes going from hot to frigid on a dime.

“Do not speak his name again in my presence,” he growled before stalking back toward the door.

Her stomach dropped and she wished she could rewind and eat her words. She’d just told herself it was too soon for rational discussion, and now she was back to square one again. She should stick to the thing that neither one of them could deny. The pull between them that, even now, was like taffy on a hot summer’s day.

“I understand that you’re mad, but please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone right now, Drake,” she murmured softly.

He faced her again, jaw flexing with barely restrained fury. “And I’m not your teddy bear, Willa. Your loneliness is no concern of mine.”

He came close again, the gleam in his eyes returning as his gaze skimmed over her body again, taking her in from head to toe.

“Or maybe you don’t need a teddy bear after all. Maybe having two men fighting over you has you hot. Is that it, little wolf? You like seeing the two of us trying to kill one another?”

She shook her head fiercely, sickened by the memory. “No, god, no. I hated—”

“It’s pretty twisted, even for you,” he cut in with a hard laugh, “but I’ve never been one to say no to a hard fuck when it’s offered.” He unbelted his robe and let it fall to the floor. “Is a good rutting what you want?”

Strange how quickly the energy in the room changed. The anger was still there in full force, vibrating in the air. The pain just as thick, almost palpable between them. But in spite of it all, even with his crass, cruel words still ringing in her ears, the blood rushed to her core at the sight of his naked body.

He was like stone, all over. Planes of thick muscle and golden skin. Proud cock, already thickening, jutting between his thighs.

“You want it, Willa?”

His voice was nothing more than a rumble in his chest.

Not like this, she wanted to say, but the words were trapped in her throat. Like her body recognized the thought for the lie it was.

Because she did want it like this. She wanted him any way he would have her.

“I think you do,” he continued, pressing one knee to the bed right by her side, and lifted a hand to one suddenly heavy, tight breast. He pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, plucking at it before letting out a low hiss as she arched helplessly into his touch.

“Or could you actually be that good of an actress? Thinking I’ll let my guard down again? Is this fake too?”

She shook her head wordlessly, not trusting herself to speak as the conflicting emotions battled for supremacy. Already, just from his nearness, just from one touch, her body was ready and willing. But there was so much unresolved between them…so much she wanted to say.

“Ah, god,” she gasped as he slid his hand from her breast to her belly and lower, roughly cupping the apex of her thighs. His expression was fierce as he ground the heel of his palm against the ache that was building.

“Funny, it seems real.” He tucked two fingers inside her, sending a bolt of need through her so strong, her legs shook with it. “So hot. So wet,” he rasped.

She pulsed her hips toward him, wordlessly begging for more…for him to thrust his fingers deeper again and again until the last of the darkness was gone, leaving only she and Drake in the light.

“Please, Drake,” she managed, suddenly desperate for him to hear her while she could still form a coherent thought. She couldn’t let him go on thinking she didn’t care. “You have to listen to me. I never meant t—”

“No,” he bit out, climbing the rest of the way onto the bed. “Stop, Willa. No more fucking lies.”

His face was tense with a potent mix of anger and need as he pulled his hand away, using it to guide his thick cock between her thighs. The swollen head breached her entrance and she forgot to breathe, her whole world spinning as she waited for him to finish it. To take her and make her his again. Maybe that would fix it. Maybe then he would know…would feel the truth of it. The depth of her feelings.

“Yes,” she murmured, arching beneath him, sending the chains that bound her rattling and then pulling tight on her arms and legs. “Yes, please take me.”

“That’s good, little wolf. Beg me,” he muttered, sliding in a little deeper in a shallow thrust before retreating. His jaw was like iron, his eyes laser sharp and focused on hers. “Beg me for it. The one thing Greyson West never gave you.”

Before she could respond, he plunged deeper, letting her feel his girth before pulling back again. Blood roared in her ears even as his scent filled her head, luring her closer to the brink.

She yanked at her chains again, as shivers of pleasure skated over her skin, wishing she could grab him and grind him against her.

But he needed to know. She needed to tell him…

“Drake,” she gasped. “I wanted to stay, I wanted—”

“Shut up, Willa,” he ground out through gritted teeth as he slid a hand into her hair and yanked her head back. “Stop. Fucking. Talking.”

She swallowed a gasp as his teeth closed over the cord in her neck, hard enough to make her wince. Soft enough to send another rush of wetness between her thighs.

He reared back and slid home, deep. Filling her to bursting, the drag of his flesh against hers, sending her spiraling out of control. And still, the words beat at her lips like bees, buzzing. Demanding to be heard.

“I never loved him, Drake,” she cried, as he pulled back and plunged back in, the weight of his body on hers like a drug she’d been too long without. “I love you. Only you.”