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He’s more interested in keeping me powerless, subservient, and tied up at his feet.
The memory of the way he bound my arms and pushed me to my knees rockets through me, heating my blood and making fire flash in my eyes.
Drawing on the anger roaring inside, I stalk to the phone.
I should probably plan this out a little—I’ll likely only get one shot at this. Maxim is bound to shut off my phone as soon as he remembers he had it turned on, but there’s no time to waste. I expect Maxim or Hermione to knock on my door any minute.
Luckily, I’ve always thought fast on my feet.
I dial the number to our pack’s headquarters by memory. When the operator answers, I ask in a vapid voice typical of the sort of girl Pax prefers, “Hey there, what’s up? Um…could you connect me to Pax? He said I should hit him up here and someone would direct my call.”
“One moment please,” the operator responds in a bored voice.
Resisting the urge to do a celebratory fist pump over clearing the first hurdle, I cross my fingers instead, willing Pax to answer.
Still, when he does, croaking out a deep, “Hey. Who’s this?” for a moment I’m too freaked out to reply.
The last time I heard that voice, he was on top of me, telling me to spread my legs. The last time I saw his face he was out cold, bleeding profusely from a head wound. And yes, I assumed that he was still alive or word of his murder would have already reached the North Star tower, but still…
My stomach knots and my throat squeezes and it isn’t until Pax says, “Who the hell is this? Talk or I’m hanging up,” that I’m jolted out of my stunned state.
“You’re going to want to hear what I have to say,” I whisper, pulse racing faster as he growls, “Who the fuck are you?” in response.
“Aw, Pax, you know who I am,” I say, playing it way cooler than I feel. “It’s your one true love. Except we both know that’s a load of bullshit, don’t we? You’re not my fated mate any more than your cousin was Kelley’s.”
I’m taking a risk, but now that I’ve heard his voice again, Pax’s short attention span is coming back to me. If I don’t capture his focus quickly, he might tell me to go fuck myself and hang up.
He growls again, a sound so purely wolf that for a second I’m worried he’s shifted and won’t be able to finish the conversation.
But then he says, “You’re dead, Willow. Dead. Do you hear me? As soon as I get what I need from you, I’m going to take such fucking pleasure in killing you. It’s going to be slow, bitch. Slow and ugly. Your ass is going to be in pieces all over my basement by the time I’m through with you.”
The words would usually be terrifying, but now they bounce off of me like I’m wearing an invisible shield. Something deep in my bones assures me that won’t come to pass, and a glance in the mirror above the desk reveals the slight glow in my eyes. It’s my pack gift’s quiet assurance that, however I die, Pax’s torture chamber isn’t involved.
“As fun as that sounds, that’s not how it ends between us,” I say breezily, feeling more confident now than I did even a moment before. “But you know that, don’t you? The prophecy probably makes that pretty clear.”
I’m reaching again.
A smarter man would realize it, but Pax falls right into my clumsy trap.
“The prophecy says you’re going to make a young Alpha the king of the shifters,” he says, making my pulse spike, “and that man is going to be me.”
That’s what my dream self said—that I would unite the packs.
It’s so mind-blowing—that I might have some pivotal part to play in the future of my people, not to mention receiving confirmation that the dream truly was prophetic—that I don’t have a chance to respond before Pax adds in a smug voice, “You’re already my mate. We did the whole stupid ceremony. I just have to put my baby in you and it’s a done deal.”
“A baby, huh?” I say, the sight of my swollen belly in the red dress flashing on my mental screen. Figuring playing Pax once worked, I try again, “I haven’t heard anything about that. Maybe you’re reading the wrong prophecy.”
“I didn’t read shit, you dumb bitch,” he snarls, sticking his other paw into my trap. “My dad knows all about it. All the top level Alphas do. And yeah, a baby is part of it. The Queen will be Seeded before the King is Seated—it’s the most important part.” He lets out a low, ugly laugh. “You think I would have touched you otherwise? You think chubby nerds do it for me or something? ’Cause they don’t. It was to fuck a baby into you so I can rule. That’s it.”
“Hmmm. Well, that’s kind of hard to do when you can’t get it up, isn’t it?” I say, just to be mean.
Because Pax deserves mean.
He deserves far more than mean, but I can’t stab him in the dick through the phone any more than he can strangle me.
“Such a stupid cunt,” he says with another oily laugh. “We’ll see if you’re still laughing once I’ve fucked you raw. I’m going to tie you up with your legs spread and dump come in you until you learn some fucking respect.”
Again, the insult hits my invisible shield and rolls off, but not before the imagery he conjures makes bile rise in my throat.
