Chapter 8

• We imprinted. We have a link. We can hear each other even from miles away. No distance is too far. No one else can tap into this. It’s like our own personal telephone line with dampeners.
• He isn’t looking at me. He’s watching Carmen walk down the hall crying into her own hands and creating a bleak picture. I can sense his pain from watching her go, and it pains me, too. Feeling what he feels is another downside to being connected to this guy. I don’t want to feel heartbreak or pain or any of this crap.
• I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this.
• The honesty and ache in my response bring his eyes to mine, and we do that weird thing where we lock eyes, get a tremor of something we can’t deny, and both look away again. Neither of us wants this; that much is clear.
• You didn’t do this. Fate did. Now we have to figure out how to undo it, if that’s even possible.
• The hesitation in his tone catches me off guard, and I look at him properly despite myself. His side profile of chiseled square jawline. Sallow skin and dark hair to match those dark eyes and brows. Colton is tall, muscular, and fit, which is only enhanced by being among the giant wolves in the pack, even at his age. His family originated from Colombia, and you can see his heritage, in the best way, despite his mother being Caucasian. Me, I’m a good old country white. Dull hair, plain girl, and nothing unique or beautiful that I know of. Carmen is a goddess compared to me.
• The atmosphere turns cold as a troop of men come marching in from the same door we did, and I’m pushed out of the way ungraciously by one of them. I get knocked sideways, unable to stop myself, and spiral down as I lose footing. Still on unsure legs after tonight’s ceremony and unable to stop myself.
• Colton's low growl and quick reflexes as he jolts in beside me and catches me sends my head spinning. His arms lasso me and stop my body from colliding with the concrete wall, hitting his chest instead as I grasp on impulsively. His eyes glow amber over my head as he death glares his displeasure at the men, unconcealed as that flash of warning oozes from him. That fierce mate protection is coming out instinctively, and I honestly don’t know how to react.
• Becoming someone’s mate is as much about instinct as anything else. It changes you and makes you feel and do things you didn’t before. Even if he hated me before this, that need to protect me and look after me will become his mission in life and vice versa. It’s completely crazy, and I can’t believe it’s happening to me.
• His father, however, almost takes his head off with the rage-filled bellow he aims his way. I realize that’s who shoved me out of the way so forcefully right then.
• “Did you just growl at me?” He snarls our way, and Colton firmly curls his fingers around my waist and arm. Juan lowers his brows severely and glares at his son furiously, moving into his head link to continue his chastisement; the way Colton stiffens around me tells me so.
• Locked eye to eye, an intense standoff as the air thickens and his energy bristles. Captured in a tight embrace, I know I shouldn’t try to break free from it, although my body responds quite happily to the contact. Feeling his anger radiating from him and the anxious, uptight bubbling inside me as I sense what he’s feeling.
• I was never good with aggression and rage. And now the overwhelming amount he can spit out, as my mood takes on his, has me recoiling. Colton has a sea of dominant fury inside him, and his hostility knows no bounds. I try to blot out the projections I’m getting and close my eyes to focus on my breathing instead. Combatting growing heat and pulsing need from his touch and fear and faintness from all the negative emotions flying between these two terrifying men. I feel like a piece of raw meat hung between two ferocious beasts. It’s like I don’t have complete control of my mind or feelings anymore, and try as I might; Colton now lives in my body as much as I do.
• They argue inwardly, silent on the surface, but all in the hallway remain still and patient as they are meant to when their Alpha demands. Juan is one of the most intimidating pack leaders, and I guess it’s why he moved so quickly to the prime position.
• Colton’s father finally spins on his heel, signaling they are done, and marches into a nearby doorway, clicking his fingers and gesturing for us to follow. It’s so hostile and terrifying that I cringe, my heart erupting into hammering thuds.
• “If people could keep their hands to themselves and off my mate, that would be great! Thanks.” Colton mumbles it under his breath, not meaning for me to hear, and I throw him an awkward glance. My heart flipping over, and my stomach churning uneasily at his words.
• He called me his mate.
• I can hear you, and it’s what you are for the time being. We imprinted. We don’t exactly have a choice. Colton throws me a look that translates to ‘relax and follow me,’ I mutely do so, cheeks burning from stupidly letting him read my thoughts. I'm embarrassed that I’m stupid enough not to remember that thirty seconds after figuring it out. He lets me go, and my body cools a little, somehow suddenly cold from his loss, and a weird emptiness fills me instead.
• I follow behind him quickly into a large room that looks like a study with extra couches. The men all file in and sit down in random places, and Colton ushers me to a nearby chair, padded and semi shadowed in the corner, out of the direct line of the men. He stands close by and waits as his father circles a bookcase and comes to perch in the chair at the desk, looking out at all of us in his position as leader.
• “I need solutions. This …” He points at Colton and me. “Happens over my dead body. My son is destined to be Alpha one day, and I will be damned if a mongrel with bad breeding dilutes his lineage. She will not be our Luna. Fix this. Find a way! I don’t care what the history books say. There has to be a way to break the bond and sever the connection, so he is free to mate up with a chosen female.” The stern tone of a man who doesn’t want to hear excuses, yet a tiny ounce of hope fills my chest. That there might still be a chance I can get out of this and here and follow my plan to get the hell away from Radstone once and for all. It’s even weirder that, at the same time, though, a desolate pain cuts me in the heart at the thought of leaving him. Winding me, blindsiding me for a second.
• “You cannot fight fate. There are consequences if you ignore destiny. Imprinting does not happen to us all, and when it does ... you do not question it.” The Shaman is quick to verbalize, but Juan slamming his hand on his desk, sending a loud thud through all of us, brings silence once more. I stare at my feet and will the ground to open up and take me. Crushing pressure on my chest as anxiety envelops me.
• “Did you not hear me when I said, THIS is NOT happening! She will NOT be my son’s mate. I will kill her before I let that happen.”
• Silence befalls the room as his biting tone echoes in the air, although I swear I hear the subtlest of growls come from Colton’s way, so close beside me, and make sure I don’t look at him. Instead, I stare at my hands in my lap and pray for this to be over. Shaking internally and genuinely fearful for my life. Never have I wanted to be left to go back to the orphanage to spend time in my room with Vanka, but now it’s so calling to me.
• I don’t want anything as much as I want that right now. Well, except maybe this weird primal urge for the guy at my left to calm down a bit and stop plaguing me. I can feel him, overly so. Way too in tune and aware of him, even if he is three feet away. My body and mind are doing weird things concerning him, and as terrified as I should be right now, I don’t feel it when he moves closer and somehow calms me without even looking my way. One backward step of maybe a foot, and he soothes my nerves back into warm gooey submission, that inner heat spreading as he gets close enough that his scent sparks some internal fire in me.
• “Then your son will die too, and we lose our future leader. You cannot break the bond without severe consequences. The choice has been made. Fate has chosen for him, and you must obey.” The Shaman comes back, undeterred by Juan’s anger, and stands as though to press the point. He’s low-toned and confident in his wisdom and does not seem intimidated in any way.