Page 69 of His Runaway Mate

“Enough talking,” I growl, my voice deep to cover the fact I find their banter ever so slightly amusing.

We get them ranged up outside, where I can breathe more easily, and where the moans, ravings, and rantings of Nicky’s father are less egregious.

“You are part of my pack now,” I tell them. “You answer to me, not to Nicky. If any of you so much as dare to lift a pinky finger against my orders, you will suffer. Do you understand?”

There’s a pause, and that pause tells me all I need to know. A few days in the cells has done nothing to soften their allegiance to Nicky. We’re not close to breaking their bond with her.

Can’t say I know what’s making them so loyal to her.

Ah, hell, what am I thinking? Of course I know what is making them so loyal. It’s Nicky. The way she’s cared for them all this time, how she’s given herself for their needs and made them a place to be that none of them have ever had before.

All I’ve done is put them in a prison with a madman. There’s no benefit to that anymore. They’d be better off elsewhere until I can get control of Nicky. Then we’ll see about the rest of her pack.

“I’m going to let you go,” I say. “I’m going to send you back to the city, because I believe the rest of your pack needs to be assembled. I’m sure there’s other work to be done, too. I want you all to check in daily with the office. If you agree to this, and you do it, we’ll call this over.”

“Thank you,” Cal says. He’s the tallest, the broadest, the one with the most leadership potential over the others, I think. “We won’t let you down.”

“You’ve already let me down,” I tell him. “But let’s see how you all come back from it.”

* * *

Nicky

I’m never left alone anymore, of course. I can’t be trusted by myself. I can’t be trusted at all. So that means I perpetually have a tweed-clad babysitter.

“Fescue?”

“Yes, madame?” He turns to me with a slight incline of his head.

“Since when am I madame?”

“Trying it out,” he says.

“Oh. Fair.”

“Can I come out now?”

“I don’t believe so,” he says. “There are numerous layers of guards keeping you in. You have given the alpha the scare of his life and I do not think he is going to relent anytime soon.”

“But I am bored.”

“Your cell is more comfortable than that of your companions,” he says. I feel sad hearing those words. My guys deserved better than what they got for acting on my behalf. But what am I going to do? I have been so thoroughly bred and punished I ache when I walk. I can’t go and get them out, and trying would probably only make their lot worse.

“And where’s my dad?”

He tightens his lips, and I know he is forbidden to tell me.

“When I do come out,” I tell him. “I’ll let you pick out an outfit for me.”

“A suitable one, madame?”

“A suitable one,” I agree. “You can make me look like ambulatory linen, if that’s what you want to do. But tell me where my dad is.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

“I do not dare risk the alpha’s ire where you are concerned,” Fescue says.