And then he had touched her. While Seth had watched, enraged, he had fondled her br**sts, slapped her, taunted Seth and threatened to rape Dawn in front of his eyes. But it wouldn’t be the first time she had been raped, the man had sneered at her. Wasn’t she no more than a plaything for the guards at the lab she had been created in?
And she had seen Seth’s eyes when he said it. Seen the flash of horror and of pity, and she had hated them both. Before he left, the chauffeur had decided to make certain she was defenseless by hitting her in the head with something. The butt of his weapon she was told. She was unconscious for days. When she awoke, the nightmares began again, and she learned that the simple brushing of Seth’s lips against hers, the touch of his hand against her neck, had begun the mating heat. And she had cursed it.
Until now.
As she packed her travel bag the next day, a heavy duffel nearly half her size, rage was beating a harsh tattoo in her views. Jonas had sent Mercury, Lawe and Rule, along with the rest of the team he had chosen for her to command, with Seth to his little island estate. And horrifyingly enough, Dash Sinclair, his wife, Elizabeth, and daughter, Cassie, were going to be in attendance as well. The two-week-long biannual meeting was no more than an excuse for a huge house party. It was going to be a nightmare. Why in the hell Dash would take Elizabeth and Cassie there, she didn’t have a clue.
And tonight, Sanctuary’s heli-jet would fly her in. She would be taking command of the team under the watchful eye of the enigmatic Dash Sinclair, and pulling that one off had taken a lot of fancy talking. Dash was one of the few Breeds who hadn’t been raised completely within the Council labs they were created in. He had escaped at the tender age of ten, been placed in the foster system and joined the army at eighteen. When he found his mate and her daughter, he had taken the skills he had learned and used them to benefit the Breeds, and Sanctuary. He had been a major force in aligning the Feline, Wolf and rebel Coyotes together into a power that was slowly being accepted within the world.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Dawn?” Callan stood in her open doorway, his expression creased into lines of worry as she swung around to face him.
She shoved an extra weapon inside the bag, and stored the clips of ammo in the side before answering him.
“Ely said he’s not my mate anymore.” She was grieving and she knew it. Just as she knew she had no right to grieve.
She had stayed as far away from him as possible over the past ten years, suffering, knowing he was probably suffering too. Knowing he hadn’t been just pissed her off now. She had suffered alone. Hurt alone. She had been alone, just as she always was.
“Dawn.”
She flinched as he touched her arm, then moved away from him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked her again. “You’re not focused.”
“I’m second command.” She shrugged. “And with Jonas’s team there, I feel more confident. I…” She swallowed tightly as she avoided his gaze. “I can’t not go.”
“Dawn, why didn’t you tell me what Dayan was doing to you?”
She flinched violently. It was so long ago. In a life she didn’t want to remember. Her pride brother, Dayan. He hadn’t been sane, but he had hid the insanity so well. He had worked them all to one degree or another. Playing Callan against the soldiers sent after him, betraying his whereabouts to them so he spent more and more time away from the home base they had established. And while Callan was gone, he had worked insidiously to destroy her and Sherra.
Sherra had been stronger though. She’d had the memories of her mate, Kane, to hold on to. Dawn had only the nightmares that Dayan had preyed upon. And the fear.
“I didn’t know what he was doing to me,” she finally whispered, lifting her head, feeling the shame that filled her as Callan’s amber eyes darkened painfully. “The Council taught him well, Callan. That wasn’t your fault. You can’t take the blame for what he did anymore.”
For how Dayan had maneuvered the men of the pride, how he had built upon her and Sherra’s fears. Sherra had her memories though; Dawn had somehow managed to repress hers, and nothing she did now revealed them.
“He didn’t rape me, Callan,” she whispered.
“Yes, he did,” he said heavily. “He raped your mind, Dawn. If I could kill him daily for the rest of my life, I would. I’d make him suffer as he never could have imagined.”
Dayan had been his pride brother. Callan had risked his life for all of them, gave his life for them in the years he had protected them. All of them. And Dayan had betrayed him at every turn.
“It doesn’t matter.” She drew in a hard, deep breath. “The heli-jet’s waiting on me. I have to go.”
“Dawn.” His voice sharpened, stopping her as she moved to jerk the duffel from her bed.
“What, Callan?” she snapped back. “What more do you want me to say?”
“He’s going to want more from you than that part of you that refuses to let him go,” he warned her harshly. “Do you understand me? Seth isn’t a monk. He won’t take vows of celibacy for you. And running to him, restarting the mating process without the clear intention of sleeping with that man is wrong. I have half a mind to order you to stay here.” He pushed his hands through his hair in frustration.
“Dammit, he doesn’t deserve this any more than you do.”
“He’s mine!” The cry ripped from her throat.
“And he will demand your presence in his bed,” he snarled. “I’m a mate, Dawn, I know what the mating heat does to a man. And God’s truth, I would have committed suicide rather than do to my mate what Seth knows he’s going to do to you. Let him go.”
“Is this why you’re here?” She felt her face contort in pain, her chest tighten with it, as she waved her hand at him in agitation. “To order me away from him?”
“He’s making a life for himself. A chance to be a man, Dawn. A husband. A father.”