Captive Mate - Eliot Grayson Page 0,35

Since, you know, they’re only here because of you.”

I pushed up on my elbows so I could glare at Nate more effectively. “And I’m only here instead of bleeding on Parker’s knot because you have a use for me, so don’t act like you’re some big hero. You wouldn’t give a fuck what happened to me otherwise. And if you’d just let me go in the first place, he never would’ve come here at all!”

“Would you give a fuck what happened to you if you were us?” Nate had gone bright red, and his dark eyes flashed with anger. “What part of I’m not joining your fan club is so fucking hard for you to understand?”

I’d spent as little time as possible near Hawthorne Senior, just like anyone else with a functioning brain and sense of self-preservation, but I’d picked up a few things. The night he’d kidnapped his own son and planned to suck all his magic out of him had been particularly illuminating.

“I don’t have a fan club. Fan clubs are for teenage losers.” I batted my eyelashes at him and, with malicious pleasure, watched him turn even redder. “But either way, you don’t have to put posters of me on your wall with hearts drawn on them with your favorite pink glitter pen to, I don’t know, not drain my magic for your own purposes? Isn’t this a little bit like father, like son?”

The color vanished from Nate’s face so quickly I could practically hear the blood whooshing south. “How do you know about that?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

But he had a secure, rock-solid place in a pack that would protect him, no questions asked — and yeah, they were the Kroger store-brand of packs. But they still had fighters like Ian, or Matthew. A council. Allies like Fenwick and Dor.

He wasn’t alone in the world, and he could go fuck himself with his self-pity. I was sure it was big enough to give him a good ride.

“Everyone knows what a pathetic wuss you are, Nate. Letting your father use you like that.” I doubted almost anyone knew, actually, but the more off-balance he was, the less likely he was to be able to maintain that fucking spell he had on me. “What kind of warlock just hands his power over to someone, much less a psychopath like that? I mean, even I think he was a psychopath. What does that say about you, following him around like a whipped dog your whole life?”

“Arik, that’s enough,” Matthew said sharply.

“Fuck you.” Nate stood abruptly, knocking the chair to the wood floor with a clatter and a thud. “I didn’t have any choice, okay?”

The pull of his spell was weakening, and I could feel my magic starting to regenerate. Come on, come on…it wasn’t fast enough. By the time he got hold of himself again, I’d only have enough to maybe try to knock out either him or Matthew, and I had to be able to get them both at once if I had even the faintest hope of making it out of the room, let alone the house.

“Oh yeah? No choice? You couldn’t walk away? Couldn’t kill him in his sleep?” I remembered some other gossip I’d picked up from listening to Colin’s younger brother Jackson go on and on about people I mostly couldn’t give a shit about. “Couldn’t do something, anything, other than spread your legs for your mate’s cousin —”

“Shut up!” Nate cried, and now he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Matthew moved so fast I couldn’t dodge; he flipped me onto my back and slapped a hand over my mouth, hard. “I said enough.”

I stared up at him, holding perfectly still, not fighting him at all. His blue eyes were cold, filled with nothing but contempt.

You fought for me, I wanted to say. You fought and nearly died for me, and then I saved your life. Doesn’t that count for anything?

Good thing he was keeping me from talking, because if I had said any of that, I’d have had to kill myself out of sheer self-disgust.

I didn’t need to talk, though. I needed to act. Because Nate’s control had slipped, and my magic was flowing back along the spell’s conduit.

Matthew’s hand on my mouth was warm, the skin firm and callused. I needed him distracted too. I parted my lips as much as I could under his grip, slipped my tongue between them, and