“No.” I still don’t know what in the hell is going on here. Carlos must have sent Juanito to set me free. But where is Carlos? I look back where Juanito stands, looking uncertain. Is Carlos coming? He can’t. My heart fills with lead. If he did, my father and Garrett would kill him. No, I need to get out of here before any wolves-on either side-get hurt. I couldn’t stand having blood on my head. “Take me out of here. I don’t want a fight. I just want to go home. Let’s go.”
My dad shakes his head. “No one steals my daughter and lives.”
“They didn’t steal me, they bought me. You’re welcome to kill the fuckers who stole me, but they’re not here. I just want to leave. No bloodshed. Please.” I catch Garrett’s eye and hold his gaze, silently pleading.
He grabs my dad’s arm and they walk around the back of the van to confer in private.
Of course, because I have shifter hearing, I don’t miss any of the conversation.
“Dad, don’t you think Sedona’s been through enough? She’s been mated.”
My eyes fill with tears. Hunching, I cover the already healed wound on my shoulder. In a few days it would be nothing more than a slight scar, but I will carry Carlos’ scent, a trace of his essence, with me until I die.
Garrett continues in a low voice, “She might have conflicted feelings toward the guy. The last thing she needs is more trauma. If she says no bloodshed here, I think we have to honor her wishes.”
“We don’t kill them and we send the message we’re weak.”
They argue some more, but when they come back around, my father clips, “Everyone back in the vehicles.”
Garrett shoos me into his van and climbs in the back seat beside me, throwing his strong arm around my shoulders.
As the van takes off down the mountain, I try to pull it together, but my emotions are all over the place. I hate being the victim, rescued by the males in her family. It’s pathetic and I know if I dip into that, even for a second, I could tumble into a pool of self-pity so deep I could let this experience scar me for the rest of my life.
Poor Sedona, they would whisper about me. She’s never been the same since her abduction and rape.
Fuck that. I was a victim, yes. But it wasn’t rape. I begged him for it. And I’m not weak, I’m an alpha female. I can turn this into a win, not a loss.
But what did I win?
I had my V-card punched, in the most incredible, satisfying way. It’s hard to imagine it gets much better than what we shared. But I also walked away marked. I’m not even sure of the ramifications of carrying a male’s scent when I didn’t choose him as a mate.
Carlos let me go.
Fates, thinking of him sends a searing pain right through the middle of my chest. Will I ever see him again? Do I want to? It’s a fucked up kind of complicated, isn’t it?
I still don’t even know if he was as innocent in my imprisonment as he insisted. What if he orchestrated the whole damn thing?
But no, why let me go, then? And I’m sure it was Carlos who sent Juanito to shuttle me out to my family. Whether it was to save his own pack or for my benefit, I can’t be sure. Because I know one thing-my family’s packs would have brought it.
So logically, it seems like I should count Carlos releasing me as a win. Why, then, does it seem like my heart is beating outside my chest? Like it stayed back on that mountain and the further we drive away, the more anxious I become at leaving it behind?
But please. Did I want him to claim me? To keep me?
Fuck no.
I would never stay on that godforsaken mountain with that crazy pack. They’re the most backwards, insane bunch I’ve ever seen, and my father has hosted a lot of pack mingles over the years.
Even if they were the most charming wolves on Earth, I wouldn’t want to stay. I’m twenty-one years old. I haven’t even finished college. I only just started having fun. Fates, my spring break vacation in San Carlos seems so long ago. So far away. What did my friends think when I disappeared from the beach?
“How did you find me?” I ask Garrett, speaking for the first time in what must have been a couple hours. I applaud him for not grilling me the whole way, but Garrett is perceptive. I’m glad I didn’t ride in my father’s van.
“My mate found you.”
Wait… what? Garrett doesn’t have a mate. He’s been playing Mr. Bachelor for years with his pack of young males. “Your mate?”
Garrett touches my fresh mark. “Looks like we both mated this moon.”
Garrett sounds so happy. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess his mating was nothing like mine. He wasn’t locked naked in a room with her and forced to mate. He chose a female. The way I always thought I’d get to choose a mate.
And now I’m wallowing in self-pity-the swamp I didn’t want to swim in. “Tell me about her?” I need distraction.
“Her name is Amber. She’s a human psychic and an attorney. And my next door neighbor. When you went missing, I volun-told her we needed her help, and we brought her along to Mexico. She helped us follow your trail to Mexico City, where we found your original captors.”
I scowl, remembering the cage and the warehouse.
“They’re already dead,” Garrett assures me.