Captive Mate - Eliot Grayson Page 0,1

into later.

The first one through the door was Ian. He’d ripped the head off of Sam Kimball, leader of the Kimball pack, in the pack battle two nights before. The goons who’d lugged me down to the basement had made a point of bragging about it. Not that Sam had really been a Kimball anymore, not after the magic I’d laid on him. Either way, no loss there. If the goons thought I’d be crying over Kimball’s death, they didn’t know much.

Of course, it was obvious they didn’t know much. I doubted they knew how to tie their own shoes.

Ian was fucking huge, had an even bigger chip on his shoulder, and hated my guts. I wasn’t going to waste my focus on him, because I already knew how he’d react to any given stimulus: ripping off heads, etcetera. Boring and predictable.

Next came Nate, his mate, the bitch who’d knocked me out with a water bottle of all fucking things. Even in the dingy light of the one bare bulb on the ceiling, he looked better than he had the last time I’d seen him. The other night his dark hair had been matted with filth, his baggy clothes torn up, his face a pale rictus of terror and misery. Now he just looked mildly exhausted and was wearing jeans that fit, if you liked jeans that cut off the circulation to your dick. His brown eyes gleamed with wary suspicion, and he stayed close to Ian.

Matthew was last.

Matthew, with his broad shoulders, intense blue eyes fixed on me like he couldn’t look anywhere else, and a fucked-up mix of longing and loathing written all over his square-jawed face. My only hope for getting out of this alive.

When I’d cast that love spell on him, it’d been at Kimball’s suggestion. Or rather, Kimball had ordered me to get Matthew in line somehow, intending for me to tie Matthew directly to him. The love spell had been my…elaboration. Having Matthew attached to me, rather than to Kimball, had been my ace in the hole. It’d ended up screwing Kimball over, since Matthew had thought he’d been helping to ‘rescue’ me when he brought Kimball’s plans, and barn, down around his head.

Remembering how he’d thrown everything away to make sure I was safe made it a little harder to plan to use the spell against him…but his feelings were fake anyway. He didn’t get credit for them.

And besides, it’d helped me then and it’d help me now. I loved it when I planned ahead.

“Hello,” I whispered. My voice was so hoarse and scratchy I sounded like a three-pack-a-day hooker trying to attract a john. Hopefully they didn’t make that comparison. “Did you forget to bring breakfast again?” I put as much pitiful confusion into my tone as I could, and let my head loll back as if my neck simply couldn’t hold it up. That also had the effect of baring my long, pale throat to Matthew’s no-doubt interested alpha gaze. “What day is it?”

“It’s afternoon,” Nate snapped, just as Ian said, “Go fuck yourself.”

Matthew’s head whipped around so he could glare at his brother. “What the hell?” he demanded. “You told me he’d been looked after. That you were taking care of everything. He’s chained up on the floor and you haven’t even been fucking feeding him?”

I ducked my head — making it look like I was drooping the other direction with hunger and despair, but really to hide a triumphant smile. Score. Discord sown. First volley to me. “I don’t remember when they fed me last,” I said quietly. Sadly. Meekly, even.

Heavy footsteps shook the floor and I braced myself for a hit. “Hey.” Instead, a huge, warm hand wrapped around the back of my neck, the fingers tangling in my long hair and caressing gently under my ear. I glanced up through my lashes. Matthew’s brows were drawn together, and his eyes were soft with worry. “It’ll be all right, Jonah. We’ll get you out of these chains, get you a real meal and a bed, and you’ll be fine. You were confused. That bastard Kimball was threatening you. You’re safe here, I promise.”

Oh, thank fuck, that made for good hearing, even though the sound of the stupid fake name I’d chosen when Kimball’s shaman Adam asked for one three months before made me wince. This was going to be even easier than I’d thought. Matthew was wrapped around my tattooed little finger.

A second later, Matthew’s eyes rolled back