“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”
“I’ll never marry you.”
“I think you will,” he said smugly.
“You can’t force me to marry you.”
“True enough. But your Alpha can. And will.”
Kay’s shoulders sagged. Victor was right. As much as she might wish to resist her Alpha’s wishes in the matter, she wasn’t sure she had either the strength or the courage to do so.
Victor’s father was waiting for them when they reached the house. Diego Rinaldi was tall and slim. He wore his brown hair cut short. His eyes, as hard and gray as stone, were cold when he looked at her. His wife stood behind him, her blue eyes worried. Vivian Rinaldi was almost as tall as her husband. She smiled uncertainly as Victor pushed Kay across the threshold.
“The room downstairs has been prepared for her,” Diego said. “I’ll call Russell and tell him you’ve arrived safely.”
Kay’s insides went cold at his words. So, they were all in this together. Knowing it was useless, she sent a mute plea for help in Vivian’s direction. The woman managed to look ashamed, but Kay knew she couldn’t expect any aid from that direction.
Nodding, Victor tugged on Kay’s arm, forcing her to follow him down two flights of stairs and into the cellar. He flicked on the light, revealing a dozen or so wine racks. At the far end of the room, a door stood ajar, revealing another, smaller room.
Victor stopped at the threshold. Jerking her around so that her back was toward him, he untied her hands. “Welcome to your new home,” he said, and shoved her inside.
“Wait!” She whirled around, but he had already closed the door. She heard a sharp click as he turned the lock. “Victor!” She pounded on the door. “Victor! Let me out of here!”
Blowing out a breath, she turned around, her gaze moving quickly over the room. Until recently, she guessed it had been used for storage. Now, there was a twin bed covered by a patchwork quilt, a small round table and a ladder-back chair in one corner, a sink and a porta-potty in the other.
Filled with restless energy, she removed her shoes and paced the floor. She had to get out of here before her father showed up with a priest, before she was forced into a marriage she didn’t want to a man she loathed. She had no doubt Victor would let her go once she gave him a child; she was just as certain that he would not let the child go with her, thereby keeping her under his thumb, at least until the child was grown.
It sounded all too horribly familiar. Only a short time ago she had declared that she never wanted to live the way her mother had.
I know, her mother had replied. But I’m afraid you don’t have any other choice.
Kay shook her head. She refused to believe that. There was always a choice.
Right now, her biggest concern was Gideon. Was he all right? Had her father killed him?
She closed her eyes, searching for him with her mind, but all she found was a dark abyss. “Calm down,” she murmured. Pressing one hand to her heart, she fought down her rising panic. The sun was up. He was probably asleep. Please, Lord, let him be resting.
Sinking down on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. He had to be all right. The worst times of her life, the best times, had been spent with Gideon. She couldn’t lose him now. It didn’t matter that he was a vampire and she was a werewolf, or that they were supposed to be enemies, or that she would have to change her lifestyle to be with him. Without Gideon, nothing would ever matter again.
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. She had endured worse than this at Verah’s hands and survived. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t give Victor or her father the satisfaction of hearing her beg or seeing her tears. She was the daughter of an Alpha and she would act the part, even if her heart was breaking.
* * *
Chapter 22
Gideon woke with the setting of the sun. It was an odd feeling, rising up out of the ground like some resurrected being, but when he was among strangers, there was no safer place to hide from his enemies or from the light of a new day than in the welcoming arms of Mother Earth. Miraculously, the creatures who spent their lives underground avoided him; dirt did not cling to his body or his clothing. When he had first been made, he had spent months trying to figure out why; now, he simply took it for granted, as he did so many of the other supernatural perks that came with being one of the Undead.
Running a hand through his hair, he opened his preternatural senses, searching for his link to Kay.
Gideon?
Her voice rang out in his mind. The relief he felt at hearing it was a palpable thing. I’m here.
Thank goodness! I was afraid they’d killed you.
I’m all right, Kiya. Are you?