Amalie
Easton steps over me and goes straight to his wardrobe. “So help me, little girl,” he snarls. “You will learn to obey me.”
A sick kind of curiosity forces me to push myself up so I can take a look at what he’s doing.
He opens his closet and removes a long, heavy chain with leather cuffs attached to them. My stomach roils and dizziness washes over me.
He ties the leather cuffs around my wrists, and throws the chain over a meat hook looking thing bolted into the roof. I stare at the hook. It definitely wasn’t there yesterday.
He pulls the long end of the chain, raising me up like a cow on her way to slaughter, higher and higher in the air until I’m standing on my tiptoes with my arms raised high above my head.
It is unbelievably bad. My whole body cries out in pain and it feels as if my shoulders are being ripped from their sockets.
But he’s not done yet.
Forcing my feet apart, he secures my ankles to a solid steel rod. “If you were a real wolf like your sister,” he says while he tightens the manacles around my ankles, “you’d be able to snap this bar like a twig.” He rises and admires his handiwork. “Good.”
It hurts. Every part of me wants to die.
Not yet. I have to stay alive long enough to get Magnolia away from Easton. After that, I don’t care what happens to me.
Easton takes his usual seat, but he doesn’t take his phone out. Instead, he sits back and looks at me, a small smile on his face.
Can he feel that I’m dying? They say feeling your fated mate die is the worst pain in the world.
I hope it hurts. I hope every step he takes is sheer agony.
The room is quiet. The only sound is my ragged breathing, the jangle of the chain when I try to wiggle my shoulders, and the relentless tick-tick-tick of the clock on the mantel.
I follow the path of a sunbeam across the floor, watching as it passes over Easton, casting his handsome face in a soft glow.
“Easton,” I say through dry, cracked lips. My voice is so soft that I can barely hear myself.
“What?”
“Please don’t hurt my sister.”
“Amalie-”
Alarms start blaring, cutting through what little sanity I can hold onto. Rogues are attacking us.
“Fuck,” Easton curses loudly and jumps to his feet. “Stay here.”
One last thought flashes through my mind before the world blinks out of existence. Where does he think I’ll go?
**
“Come on, Amalie,” a familiar voice says from somewhere far away.
I smile. Death sounds like Jericho. That’s nice. He has a lovely voice.
He lightly taps my cheek. “Come on now, open your eyes.”
Crap. I’m not dead. I can’t be. I hurt too much.
I drag my eyelids apart. Jericho slowly comes into focus.
“That was close,” he says and sits back on his haunches. “I’ve been trying to wake you for ten minutes.”
I’m at once relieved and disappointed. The pain is back and it’s worse than ever.
I groan as he shoves one hand under my head and lifts me up so he can hold a little bottle to my lips. “Drink this,” he instructs.
Without any question, I open my mouth and allow him to pour the bitter liquid down my throat. Right away, I start to feel better. “What was that?” I ask.
“Antidote,” Jericho replies. “We don’t have much time. My disguised warriors are attacking your Northern border.”
“That’s Alpha Ryker’s territory.”
“Hm. We’re allies.” He caps the empty potion bottle and almost absentmindedly puts it back in his jacket.
“Why are you attacking us?”
He doesn’t answer me, but reaches out and yanks the necklace off my neck. He holds it in the air for me to see. “I told you to give this to me,” he says. “It’s killing you.”
“What?”
“The gold and Obsidian has been infused with concentrated Wolfsbane. It’s absorbed by your skin and leeches into your bloodstream. That is why you’re not healing.”
“Why…I don’t…I didn’t know.”
“The gold hides the scent of the Wolfsbane.” He shoves the necklace into his pocket. “The torture speeds up your death.”
The realisation hits me like a wrecking ball. I don’t even know why I’m still hurt.
Of course Easton couldn’t kill me outright. He wouldn’t get any sympathy that way.
Instead, he poisoned me. Made me visibly sick. I’d die, and he could mourn my unfortunate and untimely passing. Out in the open for all to see. He’d be able to get rid of the useless spirit wolf with his spotless reputation intact, and have his pack’s admiration for the many burdens he so gracefully had to carry.
“Why are you helping me?” I ask
Jericho’s face is passive when he answers. “What makes you think I’m doing it for you?” He gets to his feet and holds out his hand to help me up. “I owe you a favour. You can call on me any time.”
“Looks to me like I’m the one who owes you a favour, but…” I hesitate and bite into my lip. “No, never mind.”
“What is it?” Jericho asks, his voice taking on a tinge of irritation. “Spit it out. Our time is limited.”
“Will you take my family to safety? My sister can’t stay here with Easton.”
He sighs and curls his fingers around his thick mane. “No. I will not.”
“But-”
“I will not give you permission to die. Your family is the only reason you’re still fighting.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do you care?”
“I have use for you.”
Big surprise. He’s like every other Alpha. Only sees those around him as objects they can use.
I imagine Magnolia hanging from those chains, Easton sitting on his chair, watching her as the will to live slowly drains from her body. There’s only one way out that I can see. “Okay,” I say. “Will you kill Easton?”
Jericho’s lips curl into a humourless grin. “That I can do.”
My heart does a little flip of excitement. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“When will you do it? Today?”
“No. When the time is right. I can’t just walk up to the Alpha’s son and kill him.”
“Why the hell not?” I ask.
“Because I have plans for this pack. Why do you think I’m here?”
I didn’t consider it. I simply accepted his presence without any question, just as I accepted everything else that happened to me over the years.
“If we are going to do this, we’ll do it my way or not at all,” Jericho says. “And if I’m going to help you get rid of your psychopathic mate, I expect you to help me when I call upon you.”
What do I have to lose? “Fine,” I agree.
“We have a deal.” A wicked grin spreads across his face. “Let us seal our pact.”
Like a fool, I hold my hand out to Jericho. He glances at my outstretched hand and shakes his head. A slow deliberate movement that leaves exactly zero room for argument. “No. Something a little more…permanent is in order, don’t you think?”
“Like what?”
“Take my mark. It will bond us. That way, I can’t betray you, and you can’t betray me.”
That escalated quickly. My mouth drops open. Has he lost his damn mind? “I’m fated to Easton.”
He shrugs. “It’s up to you, but no mark, no deal.”
“I can’t…he’ll see.”
Jericho shrugs and shoves his hands into his pocket. “He might, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to explain it.”
“N-no,” I say. “No, I can’t.”
“Okay then. I’ll be on my way. Enjoy your marriage. I’m sure Easton will make a fantastic-”
“Stop,” I interrupt him. “Fine. You can do it.”
Jericho steps forward and like Easton did all those months ago, goes on his knees. Unlike Easton, he doesn’t ask me if he’s worthy.
My stomach explodes with millions of butterflies and my heart tries to climb out of my throat.
He encircles my waist with his massive, warm hands and almost roughly pulls me towards him. I look down at the massive man.
He slides my t-shirt out of the way and caresses my stomach with calloused thumbs, sending shivers down my spine.
Jericho deftly undoes my jeans to expose my underwear.
He grips the top of my trousers and pulls them over my butt. Through the hazy fog of lust, a clear thought pops into my mind - this is a bad idea. I drop my hands on his head. I have every intention to push him away, but I pull him closer instead.
I’ve already gone way too far down this rabbit hole anyway.
He flutters his scorching lips over my heated skin. Something inside me pops like a soap bubble and heat washes through me, collecting between my legs.
Jericho growls softly and pushes my panties to the side – just enough to bare the hollow of my groin. He rubs his nose along the spot where my leg and groin meet and without any warning sinks his teeth into the soft flesh right below my hip.
I gasp at the sudden, sharp pain that shoots down my leg, and hold on to his head to stop myself from collapsing. He laps the blood away, and the pain gives way to a pleasure so deep that my head starts to spin.
I’m actually disappointed when he stops. He takes care to readjust my underwear, pulls my jeans up, and even buttons them for me.
He gets to his feet and wipes a droplet of blood away with his thumb. He stares at it for a moment, then curls his full lips around his finger while he looks straight at me. He doesn’t attempt to hide the bulge in his trousers, acting as if this is the most natural thing in the world.
“You have to remember, Amalie,” he says gruffly, “that this is not a real bond.”
Bewildered, all I can do is stare at him and nod.
The bell signalling the all clear sounds through the hallway. The soft jingling rattles me from my foggy state. “Now what?” I ask.
“You go home and wait for me.”
