Reaper Undone

“Fated mate,” Azazel says. “Hunter is her fated mate.”

Eldrick exhales sharply. “She didn’t say.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not what she wants.”

“Yes, but it explains Hunter’s crazy behavior of late.” He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. “The heat is painful for a female, physically, and if left unsatisfied, it can kill, but for a male, it’s mental torture.”

“Are you excusing his behavior?” Azazel asks incredulously.

Eldrick looks stunned. “No. No, of course not. I’m just attempting to rationalize it, to understand...He could have come to me. Told me. Maybe I could have mediated for them. But kidnapping her? Why such a rash move?”

His confusion reeks of sincerity.

I glance at Azazel, wondering if he’ll fill the Loup in. When he doesn’t, I step in. “Fee was on her way to mate with Grayson. She wanted to quell the heat so she wouldn’t be forced to complete the mating with Hunter.”

“Oh…I see. She chose his brother.” Something passes across his face, and if I knew him better, I might be able to decipher it correctly, because surely it can’t be what I think it is. Surely it can’t be sympathy?

“Yes,” Azazel says. “Fee chose Grayson, and Hunter took her.”

Eldrick’s expression hardens. “There is no excuse for his actions. He acted against me when he kidnapped my daughter. The alpha’s daughter.” He looks to Larson. “Larson, old friend…”

“I’ll send out scouts,” Larson says, setting his glass down and standing. “We’ll find him.”

Eldrick nods, and Larson leaves.

The alpha turns to us. “Find her before he completes the mating. If she doesn’t want him, forcing her into this will crush her and wreck their bond, twisting it into something dark and destructive. Hunter doesn’t realize the damage he could do to them both.”

This isn’t the face of a man who’s an accomplice. There is genuine distress in his eyes.

“Do what you need to,” he says. “I’ll get you the keys to Hunter’s room. Larson will scour our territory. Hunter can’t have gone far. I need to get out there and help with the search.”

“You didn’t know about this?” Azazel asks, blatantly.

Eldrick stares at him, horrified, and then the horror turns to anger. “I understand why you’d ask that. You don’t know me. Yes. It would benefit my pack to have my daughter join it, but not by force. Never by force. I loved her mother with all my heart, and I lost the chance to be a father to Fee, but I have her back now, and I intend to spend the rest of my years making her happy. Hunter may be her fated mate, but I want her to decide whether to accept that fate.”

I want to ask him about the rogue packs, about his plan to bring them together and take over Necro, but Loup business isn’t Dominus business, and Grayson has asked us not to make Eldrick aware of what he knows. Still, my gut tells me that this man isn’t capable of such duplicity.

Azazel places a hand on Eldrick’s shoulder, and I know he sees the truth too. Eldrick isn’t a liar. Eldrick is a man concerned for his daughter.

We leave Eldrick to mount a search of his own and step into the lift.

I press the button for the ground floor. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s innocent,” Azazel says.

“Which means that either Grayson’s source got it wrong or he’s lying.”

“That’s for Grayson to figure out,” Azazel says. “All I care about is getting to Fee.”

Me too, mate. Me too.

Chapter Four

Fee

The sun was setting by the time we sat down at the dining table in the spacious kitchen, all civilized as if we were on a winter getaway. I noted there were two exits—the main one into the room from the hallway, and a smaller door, partially hidden by the jutting fridge freezer. That one led to the formal dining room next to the kitchen, and from there, I could get into the hallway and to the front door.

A waft of garlicky goodness hit my nostrils. God, that smelled divine, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the garlic bread was homemade.

So, he could cook, so what?

He’d dressed down in a V-neck knitted sweater that molded to his muscular frame and hugged his biceps lovingly. He’d even pushed up the sleeves to expose his strong, tanned forearms. What was it about a guy’s forearms that made my knees weak? How could rolled-up shirt sleeves make my pulse quicken?

He caught me watching him as he laid the table and smiled slightly. “See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”

I crossed my arms defensively. “If you’re waiting for Stockholm syndrome to set in, you’ll be waiting a long time. All this nicely, nicely crap isn’t fooling me.”

He placed a plate of carbonara in front of me. It was garnished with some green stuff like you get in the restaurants.

My stomach made appreciative sounds. Damn traitor.

“Eat. You’ll need your energy.”

I looked up sharply. Did he know I planned to escape? No. I was being ridiculous. Why would he feed me so I could escape?

“Energy for what?”

He’d just forked some food into his mouth and chewed at a leisurely pace, finishing his mouthful before responding. “Rutting during a mating takes energy.”

He said it casually, as if rutting were an everyday thing, and maybe for him, it was, but I didn’t rut. It was a crude word, and I hated that it made my stomach flip in anticipation.

I focused on my plate, ignoring my stupid physical reaction.

“I won’t be easy on you,” he continued, but his tone was thicker now, as if he could sense my body’s reaction. As if he was feeding off it. “This second part of the mating, the part done in human form, will be primal. Our beasts will come to the surface, and it may go on for some time until the inferno becomes a steady burn.”

I forked food into my mouth and chewed with intent before swallowing. Yeah, I was going to need energy, all right. Energy to get the fuck out of here before he brought his cock anywhere near me, because once the heat hit, that cock would be the world to me whether I liked it or not.

I had to make a break for it tonight before the simmer in my veins became a searing need like last time.

Time to play nice.

I sat back and wiped my mouth with the neatly folded napkin he’d placed by my plate. I even paused to take a sip of water, but not before sniffing it to make sure it wasn’t drugged.

He chuckled softly. “I have no intention of drugging you, Fee. I want you coherent and obliging when I fuck you.”

Good to know. “You own this place?”

His eyes narrowed as if he was trying to suss out why I’d changed the topic.

I sighed deliberately. “Look, if I’m going to be stuck here with you, we might as well make conversation.”

He sipped his water. “I don’t believe for one minute you’re interested in casual conversation, Fee, but I’ll play along. Yes, I own this cabin and most of the woodland surrounding it.”

Right, so there probably wouldn’t be any residences nearby, which meant rural location. It had been morning when I’d left Azazel, and when I’d woken up here, it was mid-afternoon. I’d been out for at least five hours. But how much of that time had been spent unconscious in this cabin? If I could find that out, I could work out how far from Necro we’d traveled.

I rubbed my temple and fabricated a wince.

“Headache?” Hunter asked coolly. “You shouldn’t have one. The drug I used to put you under shouldn’t leave any ill effects.”

Yes, the drug… “Dominus are immune to being drugged.”

He shrugged. “But you’re not full demon, are you, Fee. And Loup can most certainly be drugged, using the right combination of herbs. You shouldn’t have a headache.”

Fuck. “No headache, just fizzy.” I made a show of frowning, as if the thought had just occurred to me. “How long was I out once we got here?”

He opened his mouth to reply and then snapped it shut, his eyes lighting up with triumph at having caught me out. “Clever, Seraphina. I get why fate put us together. You’re smart and cunning.”

Fucksake. “Just tell me where we are.”

“I’m not an idiot, Fee. And neither are you, so stay put. You won’t make it out there. Not in this weather. We’re miles from civilization and a storm’s about to hit in a few hours. It’ll be a whiteout. If you run, you won’t make it to civilization before the storm descends.”

Maybe not in human form, but my wolf could totally make it.

He studied me as if reading my thoughts. “Yes, you could make it as a wolf, but that shackle on your wrist won’t allow you to shift. I need you in human form, Fee.” He took another sip of water. “You can’t take the Rover either. It’s locked up tight in the garage, and I have the only keys. They’re in the safe behind the painting in the lounge along with your pretty daggers, and only I know the code.” He spoke calmly, deliberately, spilling all the information because he knew there was nothing I would do with it. “There is no escape from this, Fee.” He put down his glass and speared me with a penetrating glare. “If you run, I’ll have to chase you.” His throat bobbed and his mouth tightened, as if there was more to say, as if he was holding back, and then he picked up his glass again. “Don’t make me chase you.”

He’d thought of everything. Every way to keep me penned in here. But he didn’t know me. He didn’t know the lengths I’d go to for my freedom.

A storm could lock us into the cabin for days. Days I didn’t have. I needed to get out before the storm hit.

I had to take the risk.

He banked on my survival instinct, my so-called lack of stupidity, but he didn’t bank on how much I’d risk to avoid being mated to him. It might be stupid, but I had to take the shot.