SAMANTHA
I woke up gasping.
Memories of the dream were still there, clinging to my skin like a second layer of sweat.
My mother, my poor mother. Sigh.
Her back was laced with scars. Scars from the whipping John and Amanda gave to her.
I heard every scream, felt every blow land on my own body. She was my mother and of course, as a Panthermorph, you could feel when something happened to your close family members like your siblings, mother and father.
John's words from last night echoed in my skull: "It would be a shame if something happened to her."
I pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars.
The room was grey with early morning light. Outside, birds were beginning their stupid, happy songs. I wanted to hate them. I wanted to hate everything.
I couldn't stay inside. The walls were too close, the air too thin. I pulled on my night robe—thin silk that did nothing against the morning chill—and left my bra visible beneath it because I didn't care enough to change.
Let someone see. Let someone talk. I had no dignity left to lose.
"I'm so sorry, mom. I'm so so sorry," I muttered as I strutted through the halls of The Great Beaumont pack till I reached the empty garden.
Of course it would be empty!! Everyone with sense was still asleep. The dew soaked through my thin slippers as I walked between the rose bushes and the overgrown hedges. I found a stone bench near the fountain and sat down.
I let myself feel everything I had been holding back. I sat there until my tears dried on my face and the sun climbed high enough to warm my cold hands. Then I stood, brushed off my robe and took a deep breath.
I turned to go back inside, then I froze.
The scent hit me before my eyes found him. The same scent from yesterday. Flowers, chocolate, wild and dangerous.
It was my Mate.
Prince Jayce.
He was leaning against a tree at the edge of the garden, arms crossed, watching me like I was his breakfast. I didn't know how long he had been there. Minutes. Maybe longer. His dark hair was messy, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his eyes half-lidded with something I didn't want to name.
I turned to run but it was too late!!
He moved faster than I could track. One moment he was twenty feet away. The next, he had me cornered against the stone wall behind the fountain, one arm braced on either side of my head. His body blocked out the sun.
"Up so early?" His voice was low, rough, amused. "Waiting for me? I knew you missed me."
I said nothing. I looked at his chest instead of his face. My heart was slamming against my ribs. Not from attraction but from memory and fear.
From the knowing that no one was coming to save me this time.
Jayce looked at me hungrily. Like I was a meal he had been starving for.
"Samantha," he said, and my name on his lips sounded like a promise I didn't want. "I will enjoy you thoroughly this time."
"Prince Jayce, goodmorning," I said as memories of yesterday flooded back.
I tried to beg, but it seemed they would be no need because he was an Alpha and I was nothing.
I was trapped.
Before I could speak, before I could beg, before I could do anything at all—he closed the distance.
His lips crashed against mine. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't romantic. It was hot and scorching and intense in a way that stole the air from my lungs. I tried to turn my face away. I tried to push against his chest. But Jayce was a lycan. I was barely a wolf. He didn't even seem to notice my resistance.
One hand held my waist in place, fingers digging into the silk of my robe. The other slipped beneath the fabric, pressing against the bare skin of my back, causing me to shiver.
He pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead almost touching mine.
"I've wanted to kiss you since the day you arrived," he confessed. His voice was different now. It was more softer, almost vulnerable. "But I couldn't." He laughed quietly. "I'm not patient."
His thumb traced my jaw. His eyes dropped to my lips.
"Your lips are just as good as I imagined."
The compliment sent a shiver down my spine. A confusing, terrible shiver. This was my mate. He wanted me. He held me like I mattered. But he wouldn't acknowledge the bond. He wouldn't call me his. He just…took. Over and over. And I let him because what else could I do?
Jayce laughed again—a low, dark sound—and shifted his weight. His hand moved from my back to the collar of my robe. He tugged it aside, exposing my breasts and then like a hungry baby, he sucked them so violently, making me squirm in pain.
He sucked so loud, one would think my nipples contained a healing potion. The shame of being violated in public hit me. I had to beg.
"Please," I managed to say. My voice was barely a whisper. "Please stop."
He didn't stop. He didn't care who would see, instead, he pressed his hardness against my legs.
It made my knees buckle. I had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling. He took that as encouragement.
"Please," I said again. Louder this time. "Not here. Someone could—"
"Is it big?" Jayce asked mindlessly. "Is my dick big? Do you love it?!"
"Yes.. yes.." I managed to say shamefully.
"If they watch, I'd love it." His voice was muffled against my skin. He pulled back just enough to look at me, and his eyes were wild. Crazy. "Let them see. Let them know you're mine."
Mine. The word should have thrilled me. It only made my stomach turn.
He pressed his body against mine, pinning me fully to the wall. His hand slid lower, gripping my hip. I felt every inch of him—solid, warm, impossible to escape.
"Does it hurt?" he asked. "My kissing. Does it hurt you?"
I was mute. My throat had closed. I swallowed saliva and refused to answer such a humiliating question. Did it hurt? No. That was the worst part. It didn't hurt. It made me feel things I didn't want to feel. It made my body betray me.
But I didn't like being violated like this in public. I wanted privacy.
Jayce laughed at my silence.
"You should consider yourself lucky," he said, his breath hot against my ear. "Other she-wolves beg for this attention. They offer themselves to me. To my brothers. And they never get it." His hand moved higher, toying with the edge of my robe. "But you? You get everything. And you don't even say thank you."
I felt panic rising.
His fingers found the tie of my robe. He pulled it loose. The fabric gaped open. The morning air hit my bare stomach, my chest, the thin lace of my bra. I crossed my arms instinctively, but he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand.
"Don't," I whispered.
He ignored me. His free hand reached for the waistband of my—No!!
Was he going to take me here? Would we do it here? Now?!