Chapter 3

I am summoned to Dr. Sarah's office almost immediately.

The space is filled with other important personnel and I fight the urge to shuffle under their openly scheming gazes.

Dr. Sarah approaches me. She beams at me but I sense a falseness about it. "Gweneth. Everyone has been buzzing about the recent news. But we'd like to hear it from the horse's mouth. Is it true?"

She makes it sound like I'd just announced an engagement. To her question, I nod. "Yes. I... It appears I'm his mate." Saying it sounds surreal. Impossible.

Shifter-human mating is rare. So rare there hasn't been any recorded cases of it actually happening. But to be fair, we'd only just found out about Shifters a few decades ago.

If possible Dr. Sarah's smile widens. She claps like an excited schoolgirl and my discomfort only grows. "This is good news!" She turns her attention to the team behind her and in a breathy voice she announces, "It appears we've just made a breakthrough."

White smiles pass around the group and I'm left in the dark, a foreboding chill starting to make its way down my spine.

Dr. Sarah turns back to me. "As of today, you're to resign your job as a scientist."

My breath stops. "Wha--"

"Because you're going to be assigned another job, of course."

"What job?"

"Take care of him. Ensure he's well-fed. You're to spend a great deal of time with the alpha so that the bond between the two of you can strengthen."

I search her eyes, growing uneasy. "Why?" 

A dark look passes over her face. "That way he can do whatever we ask of him once he thinks you're in danger."

I suddenly find it hard to swallow. "I don't want any part in this."

Her eyes snap to mine like she didn't expect I'd not be on board with her plan. "What?"

"This." My arm does a wild sweep in the air. "I don't want a part in any of this. This is where I draw the line."

The people around all stiffen, glaring daggers at me like I am vile. Like I am damning humanity by my refusal to partake in their plan. Like I am a selfish b*tch.

Dr. Sarah steps closer to me. Her voice lowers. "You could be forced."

I stiffen and draw up to my full height. "Is that what happens when you become a Hunter, have your free will taken away from you? I thought the very thing we fight for is freedom."

She doesn't waver. "Your report states a next of kin in Las Vegas. A sister. A drunk, a drug addict who cannot be trusted with even taking care of her own son. But despite this, you love her. Wouldn't like to see her washed up dead in some lake, would you? And her son..."

My breath rattles out of me and I don't care if my terror is stark on my face.

The woman pats the side of my face gently before drawing away. "Now just do as we say and no one gets hurt."

When I go home later, I stare blankly ahead as I heat some mashed potatoes, giving halfhearted answers to Rylan's excited rambling.

When night falls I sneak into his bed, wrapping my arms around him. The ten-year-old soon stirs awake and blinks up at me blearily. "Mum? What are you doing here? You know I can sleep alone now, right?"

"Shh," I hush gently, feeling my voice crack. "Mummy just wants to hold you, okay?"

Perhaps sensing my mood, he just nods and snuggles deeper into me, falling asleep almost immediately.

The next morning I retrieve my car from the mechanic, driving it up the barren acreage of land surrounding Mount Pyre. Stopping at the front post, I slide my ID card against the slot and the huge gate budges, drawing up. I drive in.

The Hunters around cast me sidelong looks as I make my way through the Halls. A few of them stare at me with open animosity, no doubt having heard about my refusal to go on board with Dr. Sarah's proposal. Although you could hardly call it that.

Her office is wide open by the time I get there. Her head snaps up when I come in, then a smile stretches the side of her lips. "Knew you'd make the right choice."

My jaw clenches. She waves towards the opposite table. I turn and see a trolley. It's packed with food.

"Werewolves have quite the appetite. Although this one doesn't seem to want to eat anything we give him."

"Can't imagine why."

She doesn't address the sarcastic statement, instead motioning to the trolley again. "Take it up to him. There's every chance he's going to eat now it's you offering the food."

I roll the trolley away. The elevator ride up is slow and, unfortunately, I have enough time to dwell on my situation. 

Dread slides through me at the thought of meeting Malcolm. The image of him from yesterday flashes through my mind, making my throat tighten. His glowing blue irises, his lengthening canines, the horrific sharpening of the angles on his face. The protruding black claws. 

One swipe of those dangerously sharp appendages and you'd be rent to shreds.

The doors slide open and I push through. Taking out my card, I slide the chip in and the metal door whirs open.

He's awake.

Steel grey eyes watch me narrowly as I swallow and enter the room. On instinct, my gaze flies to the emergency button.

"Good morning," I greet.

Like yesterday, his eyes do a bold sweep down my body. Once they land on the card pinned to my shirt pocket his eyes glow a fierce blue that has me backing up sharply. "You're one of them," he growls.

I realize it's the first time I've heard him speak. His voice is deep and gravelly, a combination that has heat slinking down my insides despite myself.

Once what he says settles, I state, "You could say that."

"Then you are no mate of mine."

The rejection cut deep. The feeling is accompanied by a twinge of anger. "Do you think I want any part in this?! My life is in danger and--" I cut myself off, sucking in a breath.

He watches me closely. Pinpricks of gooseflesh break out of my skin at the raw intensity there. Out of my depth, I look away.

"Then set me free," he says.

My eyes snap to his. "I can't. It's not... it's not that easy." I start to unpack the trolley. A plate of pancakes is dropped down on the space beside him. "You have to eat."

He's still looking at me in that disconcerting way. "Why do you say your life is in danger?"

I scoff, the bitter sound directed at myself. "It's nothing I shouldn't have seen coming. I got myself into this and by god, I'm getting myself out." I fork a helping of pancakes and hold it out to him. "Please eat."

His slate grey eyes are unmoving on my face and I feel a flush start to creep up my neck.

There's a calculation in his gaze that should've bothered anyone, but I'm too busy reeling from the all-consuming way he looks at me to care. Finally, he parts his lips. That little action of surrender should've been the first thing to alert me something wasn't right. I'll learn eventually that Malcolm never yeilds. 

But I'm so relieved at finally getting to him that I inch closer.

The fork goes in his mouth. Still holding my gaze, his lips close over it. At once something crackles in the air. My blood heats and a faint blue glow simmers in the depths of his eyes. Desire.

My breath hitches and I suddenly feel like a prey. 

Which is odd, because he's the one in chains.

But a part of me, an instinctual part that becoming awake in his presence, knows I shouldn't count on that fact to keep me safe from him.