The Wild Moon by Riley Storm

Chapter Eleven

I gasped in shock as the icy water slapped me across the face, bringing me back to reality.

Lars was towering over me, a bucket in his hand. He saw I was awake and grinned, tossing the bucket to the side. Angrily, I lunged for him before logic could kick in, but I made no headway. Metal clanked on metal, and I stayed firmly in place.

“What the fuck?” I spat, straining against the bonds trapping me to the chair as cold water dripped from my face and upper body. My skin puckered from the chill, my nips standing at attention like the fucking president was coming or something.

I looked down, wondering why they were so sensitive, which is when I noticed I wasn’t wearing a bra. Or underwear. Just a black t-shirt and baggy blue shorts.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” I snarled, immediately assuming the worst.

“Nothing,” Lars growled. “Unlike some, we have honor.”

I nearly choked on my laughter at that, but unless I’d been unconscious for days, I couldn’t feel anything that would indicate foul play. So maybe he was telling the truth.

“You still stripped me naked, you fucking pervs,” I snarled, straining at my bonds. “How the hell do I know you didn’t take a bunch of pictures or anything? Psycho bastard. Let me go!”

Lars continued to stare at me like I was on display or something. It was giving me major creepy vibes.

“Quite the dream you were having,” he remarked at last.

I froze. He knew about that? How could he know about that messed-up place? How did I even dream something like that in the first place? It had been so real feeling.

“We never touched you, but your body was, shall we say, active, there.” He chuckled nastily.

Ew. Gross. I didn’t want to think about this asshole watching me while I had a sex dream. Vomit.

“Pervert,” I said, my voice as cold as the water still dripping from me. “Is this how you get your rocks off these days?”

Alpha power reached out and slapped me, and for once, I was actually grateful for it. That stupid dream sequence was still filtering through my body, giving me the odd chill and flashback. Once the Alpha’s command hit me, my brain cleared rapidly.

I would have time to overanalyze the dream and come to wildly inaccurate conclusions later. For now, I had to focus on getting out of my current predicament. Somehow. Given I had metal shackles around my wrists and ankles, securing me to a solid chair, I didn’t exactly see a way out. Yet.

“I was going to give you time to come to the proper conclusion on your own,” Lars said once I settled into the chair and fixed him with a sullen glare.

Bastard was just waiting for me to submit before he explained what the fuck he’s doing.

“However, you’ve proven yourself to be too unwieldy, too unreliable. You’re probably too stubborn of a bitch to realize that this is the only proper way forward for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” I growled. “You mean not a teet-sucking sycophant? Great. Fantastic. What’s your grand plan now? Leave me tied to a chair for a month? As if that would get me to change my opinion of your son.”

Lars smiled, his lips curving upward even as his eyes remained a blank, dull blue. It was very disconcerting, and I fell silent as fear slithered into my belly, working its cool tendrils through me. What was he going to do? Just how much shit was I in?

“You will change your opinion, you disobedient pup,” he informed me. “You’re going to spend the month here. As our guest.”

I snorted. “That’s a hoot. A guest. Guests are usually free to leave. You mean prisoner.”

“Whatever term works best for you,” Lars said, waving a hand dismissively. “Trust me. Being in such proximity to the Soulbond, it will be impossible for you to resist. Your wolf will want it. It will cry out for it, driving you desperately into his arms. You will change because of it, little wolfling. You won’t be able to resist.”

I couldn’t speak. I stared at him in horror. He spoke with such certainty, such knowledge. It made sense that the Soulbond would change people. Make them more compatible to help with a lifetime of being together.

But knowing that it would affect me while I resisted it? Trying to force me into Johnathan’s arms? That was a nightmare come true. I didn’t want to give up who I was for anybody, let alone that prick!

“Yes,” Lars hissed. “You begin to see. You realize your future. Fight it or accept it. One way or another, you will want it eventually. There is nothing you can do about that.”

“Why are you so intent on this?” I whispered. “Why me? I’m not anyone special.”

“Of course you aren’t,” Lars said as if that should have been obvious. “You are a no-one. But the line must be continued. The Wild Moon has chosen you to be my son’s mate. My heir must be ready to rule the pack when I have…moved on.”

Lars didn’t seem particularly weak or even remotely close to stepping down from being the head of the pack. I didn’t foresee Johnathan taking over for decades yet. What was the rush? There was only one possible reason.

“So, I’m nothing but a baby factory to you, is that it?”

“My bloodline is strong,” Lars said. “It must be continued. Aldridges have ruled the Seguin pack for generations. We will continue to do so. You will do your part. Eventually. If it drives you insane from trying to deny it first…small loss.”

The insidious smile on Lars’ face had me feeling all sorts of unwelcome. He definitely did not care if I lived or died, so long as I bore Johnathan some heirs first. What a lovely father, looking out for his only son’s well-being. Definitely not a psychotic tyrant of an Alpha. Not at all.

“There are plenty of women in this town who I’m sure would have your son’s babies. Women from other packs, too. Trust me. I had to hear all about it when I dated John. You know, before I realized how much like you he was.”

Lars’ hand flashed down. I rocked back in the chair, my cheek ringing with pain. I cried out but quickly bit down. The last thing I wanted to do was give Lars the satisfaction of hearing me in pain.

“You will show him the respect he deserves,” Lars hissed. “His name is Johnathan.”

Well, that explained where John got his fanatical desire not to use the short form of his name. I thought it was his own thing, but nope. Turned out it was dear old dad all along.

Just how much independence did John have? Had he been allowed to date me without asking Dada for permission? Or was that all orchestrated and planned as well? I had to wonder now. After all, where was Johnny boy at the moment? He certainly wasn’t in the tiny little room with Lars and me.

“Thirty days, little wolf,” Lars said when I sat there silently, not bothering to speak anymore. “We’ll see how well you fare. If you continue to deny it…you will go Wild. And then I will enact the law and do as I must.”

“Oh, so tough of you to kill little old me,” I muttered.

Lars fixed me with a glare. “Just like your family. I tire of your rebellious ways. Thirty days.”

He was gone before I could open my mouth to ask what the hell that had meant? Rebellious ways?

My father was one of your biggest supporters, you oversized thundercunt. What rebellious ways could you possibly mean? Hell, even I never rebelled, other than recently when I rejected John. And that was well earned if I do say so myself.

So, what was I missing?