The Alpha’s Forced Mate
Chapter 11

Blake

Morning took forever to arrive. As light spilled through the veranda doors, an alarming sense of awareness washed over me, like something big was coming. But what was it? Why couldn’t I shake the feeling of being watched?

My attention floated to the upper right-hand corner of the room.

Maybe it’s just because Jermaine insisted on those hidden cameras, I thought. I feel like I’m on a reality show.

And maybe I was on a reality show. Maybe this was being broadcast to the internet where other shifters could observe the customs of a different sort of pack. In my pack, all shifters were welcome. None were turned away because they were dragons, lions, or tigers.

Or bears, I considered as I thought of Jermaine. He’s been the most loyal one of them all if I’m being honest.

A shower would have been great, but I knew I had to get downstairs. Regina would be performing her truth ritual soon enough and another participant would be sent home. My heart swelled with the hope that it would be Norma or Marianne. Those two had reduced themselves to gossip and inconsiderate jabs at Veronica.

Didn’t they know they were being monitored? This was a mansion owned by a family who had recently suffered an attempted assassination. They couldn’t possibly be that naive.

Or they were playing a part and hamming it up for the cameras. Who knew?

I slid from my bed. Regina will know in a matter of minutes.

Sunlight crept after me as I left my suite. Marble floors expanded toward the staircase. Gold-painted balconies guarded the floors above and below. White carpet on the steps. Antique tables wherever space seemed to allow them.

And for what? My mother had collected these things for years. It seemed shallow, but my father had participated as well. I called them pack rats.

But I wasn’t complaining about my two bikes either.

Heavy steps led me to the front den. Regina stood next to the vase with Norma in front of her. She plucked the necklace from Norma’s fingers and held it up for the room to witness. A flash of light and a small pop later, she clicked her tongue twice and shook her head.

“Shame,” she whispered. “You didn’t stick to the script.”

Norma puffed indignantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Try to lie again.”

“You’re the one who’s lying!”

Relief sprang to the surface. That meant I could eliminate Norma without any guilt. “Pack your things, Norma. You have one hour to leave the premises.”

Norma hopped to her feet with a blistering glare. “She’s lying!”

“I highly doubt that,” I replied calmly. “You can leave peacefully or I can have Jermaine physically remove you. Which will it be?”

“This is ridiculous!”

Norma stormed toward me, knocking her shoulder into mine as she made her way to the foyer. Her stomping steps echoed all the way up to the second floor. Regina looked more entertained than she had in ages. She held up the other three necklaces.

“Everyone else checks out, Blake,” she reported. “Would you like to see their responses?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Marianne, Carrie, and Veronica sat quietly at the round table. Their envelopes sat in front of them, each one promising me a glimpse into their inner worlds. None of them seemed particularly pleased—their demeanors were largely unreadable and their eyes glossed over with leftover sleep.

While sidling up to Carrie, I checked my peripheral vision. Veronica looked haggard. It didn’t look like she had gotten much sleep at all. It had been hard to see across the room, but up close, it was much more noticeable—the kind of faraway and dissociated look that comes from having nightmares.

Carrie handed me her envelope. “It wasn’t much. Just what I would do if you got threatened.”

“Standard,” I whispered. I gave her a tight smile. “I’m sure you defended me.”

She blushed. “I did my best.”

Skimming the text proved my statement was true. And it was standard by every means. Even if injured, Carrie would take every precaution necessary to ensure my safety. Even though I had Jermaine for that, it was comforting to know a future mate would do much the same.

When I moved on to Marianne, I noticed Veronica flinch. I didn’t say anything. Instead, my hand mechanically swept Marianne’s envelope from the table. My eyes widened when I saw the prompt. “Illness, huh?”

“I would take care of you. You would never want for anything.” She batted her eyelids. “I’ll be your personal nurse and everything.”

This was the part where Veronica was supposed to grumble something snarky or gr0an with disbelief. But she did neither of those things. The red around her eyes deepened by two shades when I turned to her.

She looked away when I lifted the envelope. Only the sound of paper scraping together filled the atmosphere. If anything else sounded nearby, it wasn’t evident to me. I was far too focused on Veronica, her energy, and her reaction to me peering into the envelope.

My heart sank. “Death.”

She winced.

“My death,” I specified. “You would hurl yourself into the depths of despair and wish for death yourself.”

A tense silence sliced the room. Carrie and Marianne held a collective breath while my grandmother and Regina silently watched from their places near the fireplace.

I reached for Veronica. She stiffened when my hand met her shoulder. But she did nothing to pull away from me.

She didn’t try to lean into me either.

“Your next trial won’t be for another few days,” I announced. “You’re free to roam the estate as long as you’re mindful of the perimeter. Don’t wander too far.”

Veronica visibly relaxed. She closed her eyes while I set the envelope in front of her and bowed her head as though a great boulder had dropped from her shoulders. It was hard to pull my hand away, but I knew I had to do it. There was nothing I could do to comfort her. She didn’t even want to be here.

Why should I bother trying?

---

The security room was located in the basement where Jermaine and the rest of his team often met to go over daily procedures. A wall made of cork hosted several maps, protocol outlines, and pictures of animals and people—and shifters alike—who had been spotted near the property.

Jermaine pointed to the screen. “Those two seem to be getting along.”

I squinted at the high-tech monitor. Not because it was blurry, but because I was suspicious. “Yeah, I didn’t think Veronica would take to anyone. She’s been spending a lot of time with Carrie.”

The two women meandered through the maze at a leisurely pace. Neither of them seemed tense or bothered. They actually looked like they were having a good time.

And part of me was irritated by that.

“She’s a poor public speaker,” I recalled. “Too emotional. If she became my mate, it would take some training to get her comfortable addressing the pack.”

“Isn’t that your job?”

I nodded. “Sure. But sometimes, I won’t be available.”

“We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“If my father’s accident is any indication of things that can happen, Jermaine, then I want to prepare for it.”

Pressure built between us. Though it didn’t quite explode, it didn’t stabilize either.

Jermaine sighed. “I understand, Blake.”

“I just want you to be prepared in the event of my death.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of a mate bond?”

Rage gripped me. “It didn’t save my father. Why the hell would it save me?”

“It’s worth trying, isn’t it, Blake? It’s worth having love in your life. That’s why we do these mate trials. They’re meant to fill the void that grief can carve into us.”

“I have my bikes for that. I have open roads and beaches galore.”

The chair squealed as Jermaine shoved away from the desk. “You could try a little harder, you know.”

“You mean like how you try with Elva?”

He growled. “She hates my guts.”

“And yet you keep hanging around her.”

“Whatever, Blake. Do what you want. Just tell me where you’re going so I can protect you, okay?”

He stormed off, leaving me staring at the HD monitors lining the wall above the desk. I had chased off my best friend with my rotten attitude. And now, I was planning on chasing off these other three participants so I could spend the rest of my life—however long that was—in peace.

But as I climbed the stairs to ground level, my heart lurched in my chest. To be without anyone, Veronica included, would mean having to deal with pack business by myself. Mom would help, of course, and Mamaw would certainly want to be by my side, but everything else would fall on my shoulders.

It would be a burden instead of a joy. Nothing would comfort me in the night save for my video games and mechanical projects. Giving this mate trial a chance was a reaction to nearly dying—but it was also a response to my own loneliness.

Hookups could only get me so far.

A shiver raced up my spine when I recalled my encounter with Veronica in the den the other night. Just a few short steps spat me out at the mouth of the maze, my nose tilted to the sky. The creamy floral scent that stole my attention resembled the soft energy that Veronica wore when no one was looking.

She was still here. And she was by herself.

Three turns and two pauses later, I found her staring up at a slate gray statue situated in a perfectly carved space in the wall of the maze. Her hazel-yellow eyes flecked with gray were rounded with curiosity and her plump l!ps parted as she reached for the stone.

That pensive stare told me she was still thinking about her dream.

Her fingers drifted over the features of the statue.

“That’s my ancestor,” I explained softly.

She didn’t jump. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t even look at me. She simply kept observing the statue. “Looks like you.”

“Remy Hayden Bernard,” I told her. “One of the oldest wolves in my family.”

“Is he how you got your fortune?”

I shrugged even though she was looking at me. “Sure. He was a skilled tradesman.”

“In what?”

“Textiles. The new world couldn’t get enough of them.”

She nodded slowly and dropped her hand. “Interesting.”

“That wasn’t a dream you had, was it?”

This time, she flinched. She chafed her arms lightly and turned away from me, wandering down one of the side paths that didn’t lead anywhere. And that was fine with me. That was where I wanted her to go.

No cameras existed there.

Because part of me viscerally understood the way she controlled me. Without effort, without any nefarious intentions, she plunged a dagger into my chest and wrapped a rope around my heart. She tugged me toward her when she wasn’t even giving me attention.

Whatever magic she wielded mesmerized me. It scared me too. Because another part of me knew it would be the end of me.

The path abruptly ended with a towering wall of leaves. Veronica turned expectantly, her arms still crossed over her chest and her l!ps turned down into a mournful frown. It was unacceptable to see her so upset. I had to do something about it—whatever it took.

I took her by the waist and k!ssed her. The resistant yelp that vibrated my l!ps hardly led to her denial. While her l!ps tightened together, her body slumped into my arms, relinquishing whatever control she thought she had. Mine went with it. With her, there was no control. None to be found.

And somehow, I preferred it that way.

Slowly, surely, she parted her l!ps. She welcomed my tongue, arching into my embrace. Her fingers rose to my chest, traced the outline of my muscles, and came to rest on my shoulders. A soft hum met every dueling k!ss. And each one drew a quiver from my heart.

“I can’t resist you,” I mumbled between k!sses. “I can’t stop…”

She mewled. “So don’t.”

K!ssing her quelled the ache in my bones. Under no conditions would this have worked with anyone else. Carrie was sweet, sure, but her form didn’t call to me like this. Marianne was like chewing tin foil.

Yet everything about Veronica vibrated my c0re.

Even when she was acting as rotten as a bratty teenager.

I growled as I tightened my arm around her waist. “You confuse me.”

She whimpered as she bucked into me. “Shut up, Blake.”

“You want me, but you don’t.”

“I can say the same for you.”

I huffed hungrily and stole another k!ss. “I don’t get it. You’re so negative. You’re so sarcastic and combative.”

“Argumentative.”

“Irritating.”

She whimpered while cupping my face. “Unstoppable.”

“Hard-headed.”

“Stubborn.”

The list went on, words pouring between us, an entire dictionary dedicated to tearing each other down—yet relating to each other all the same. By the time we were done, we were panting heavily, tucked into a corner of bushes that hid our encounter from prying eyes—and cameras.

“But you’re compassionate—open, loving,” I added while stroking her cheek. “I don’t get it, Veronica. Why hide all that?”

Her lower l!p quivered. “You have no idea what kind of person I am.”

“I want to find out.”

Her eyes went wide. Less out of curiosity. More out of horror.

And it would be horrific for her to face the next trial. “Pointless as it may be to you, I need to see if you get along with my mother.”

Her features drooped. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Blake.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Don’t tell me I have to spend time with her.”

I smirked mischievously. “Dinner. Tomorrow night. That’s the next trial.”

“Why would you put anyone through that?”

“Because,” I reasoned while I traced her throat with my thumb. “If you can handle her, then you can handle me.”

Her eyelids fluttered as her pupils disappear. Soon, nothing but the whites of her eyes were visible. All it took was a few strokes to put her back under my spell. If this was what mating was about, then I was a lot more keen on the idea than I’d been thirty minutes ago.

Especially if it was with Veronica.