Rejecting the Alpha
Chapter 2

Kylie

I woke to the rumble of an engine and the slight swaying of forward momentum. Still covered in my fur, I instantly leapt to my paws and looked around and found myself in the backseat of a luxurious car.

My mate's scent hung heavy and mixed with leather in the enclosed space, inviting and repelling me. There was no denying it, by some horrible twist of fate I had been trapped in a bond with a murderer.

"Shift so you can talk to me," he said from behind the wheel of the vehicle.

I growled in response, my hackles rising. I owed this man absolutely nothing but death.

"Change."

Another growl escaped me. Their pack had attacked ours without provocation, and I was not going to play along with this monster who thought he could order me around.

Screw the mate bond. If I went for his throat while he was driving in human form, I might be able to kill him right now, and if I didn't succeed the resulting accident might. I leapt for the front seat, powerful jaw ready to rip out his throat—as he had ripped out my families'—to take my revenge.

Without even taking his left hand off the wheel, he blocked me by getting his right forearm between my jaws. I bit down as hard as I could, wishing to break his bones and sever the limb. Worse, I felt the tingling of our first contact where violence had connected us. The iron of his blood mingled with the other scents around me.

"Settle down. Kill me, and the rest of your people will join me."

His words loosened my jaws. I felt a sharp pain at the thought. I tried calling out for them through my bond, but I received no response.

"Now shift, or I'll call my beta and the first will die." His voice was cold.

Fiery hot frustrated rage began to eat me from the inside. I did as he had commanded, my body reshaping itself from one form to the other.

"Good, now come up here. I want to see you while I'm talking to you."

I wasn't entirely comfortable with being naked in my human form at the best of times, but this exposure was by far the worst experience in which I had ever been so vulnerable. I forced myself to crawl up, covering as much as I could of myself while I did it.

He looked over at me and I heard a growl of approval. I shivered, my heart torn between fury and satisfaction.

"There's a blanket on the floor," he told me.

I reached for it and covered myself. If he had wanted to save me the embarrassment he could have given it to me before making me climb forward. Asshole.

"What's your name?" he asked.

I wanted to refuse and tell him where to go, but instead I said, "Kylie Leland."

"Kylie."

He did not volunteer his name and I wasn't going to ask. I didn't want to know about him. I could reject the mate bond with or without it, although making it personal was the most painful and lasting way to do it. He would probably tell me in time when he let down his guard.

He seemed content to drive along in utter silence but for the hum of the engine. I had a million questions, but I was not going to favour him with my curiosity. He didn't deserve my interest. He deserved nothing but my hatred, my disdain.

I glanced towards him and studied his profile. His bone structure was strong and just sharp enough to lend him a handsome appearance. If he had been any person besides a violent genocidal dictator, I would have been happy to have him be my mate.

As it was, in spite of everything, I could feel the bond trying to pull me to him. I was going to fight it until the end. I was never going to give in to him.

The drive mercifully did not take very long after I woke up. My grief was a ticking time bomb, ignored, but waiting in the shadows to destroy me if I got too close.

I hid from my feeling by forcing myself to numbly watch the scenery as we entered a residential looking pack land. Houses passed by and people watched his car pass, obviously taking in the return of their alpha. They did not look as downtrodden as I would have imagined, but neither did they look particularly happy, which was no surprise when living under a brutal dictator.

Their lives would be my life, for the foreseeable future, although I was not going to stay here. I didn't care what he did to me, I was going to leave. He could force me to be his mate, but I was going to throw off the bond and escape eventually.

But first, there was the problem of his hostages. It seemed like the only thing I could do would be to try to pacify him until he let what was left of my people go free. Which meant at a certain point I was going to have to actually speak with him.

I glanced in his direction. He met my eyes and that pulling feeling started in my stomach that I could not control. Ignoring it, I looked back out of the window.

We pulled up at a house that looked ridiculously like a mansion. I wasn't impressed, since I would rather be back at home with my family than surrounded by riches and the remnants of a slaughtered pack.

Leading me inside, he still didn't say anything. My nerves hummed with anxiety as he came around the car to open my door. "Follow me."

There was no one around when we went inside and he led me up a grand staircase. I followed, keeping careful watch of where I was going. I wondered if I was going to be locked inside my destination. I decided not to protest regardless of my circumstances. I needed him to think that I let down my guard, or rather that I had no guard. Passivity would hopefully be enough for me to lull him into complacency while putting off the more intimate parts of our bond as long as possible.

I had no way to stop him except to throw myself on the mercy of a man who as likely as not had none. The mate bond might help soften him, but I didn't care, because nothing could ever change what he had done.

After walking down long halls, he pushed open a large door to reveal a suite. I didn't need to ask where we were, it was obvious by overwhelming scent alone that this was his bedroom. My panic almost overwhelmed me.

Unaware or uncaring of my feelings, he herded me into the room and all my plans of compliance deserted me. "I don't want to stay here."

"Where else would you stay?" he asked with a dark expression and a raised eyebrow.

"We just...met."

"And? You can feel the bond, too."

"And you just killed almost everyone I loved."

His frown deepened. "There're still some left."

"I want to see them."

He rounded on me. "Then, how about you cooperate and I'll think about it?"

He was really doing it. My own mate was willing to hold my care for the other survivors against me to gain my compliance. Why had I been stuck with such a twisted male? What had I done wrong to deserve this? My repressed tears began to push forward at last and I wiped them away but more only took their place.

And as if I could ever want comfort from the monster before me, he stepped forward and wrapped his muscular arms around me, as if this destroyer could somehow be the one to protect me. It was so twisted and wrong and the worst part was that the comfort did make me feel better.

Even though nothing was better. I had to get away from him and this place.

I tried to move away from him, but instead he brought his mouth down on mine and began to kiss me with practiced ease. I was not surprised that I wasn't his first kiss, but I was surprised at how gentle the murderer was being.

My stupid muddled brain let out a low moan as he worked kisses across my cheek and my jawline. His mouth sent shivers down my spine as he adored my neck with his mouth.

Then searing pain ran through me as he bit down hard. The tears rushed back to my eyes at the sudden intrusion of his canines into my neck. I yelped, but I couldn't escape without ripping my own flesh.

And it was too late, no matter what I did now. I was marked. Despair filled me, but I pushed it back.

No. No, I wasn't going to take this quietly. It was a mark, not death. Rejection could still happen, theoretically, and the mark would disappear along with the broken bond, just like he had made lives disappear from the world.

Finally he withdrew his teeth from my neck. Pleasant tingles moved through me as he licked the wound he had made, before returning to my mouth. I could taste my own blood on his lips as he manoeuvred me towards the bed.

Panic flooded through me at the direction. My fear overwhelmed any excitement I might have been able to experience and I struggled against him. I was pushed down and his weight came on top of me, pinning me in place.

With nothing left to do, I cried harder.

He paused and looked at me quizzically with what seemed to be genuine confusion. "What is this you're feeling?"

What could I say? The tears wouldn’t stop.

His weight suddenly left me, and he walked away. I kept my face averted as he crossed the room, slamming the door behind him. Past my relief, my mind struggled to understand the reason for his abrupt departure. Was I safe—for now?