Forced Mate

10: Threats

"Is that what this is all about? Me wanting you?"

"Yes! I want you to at least like me, but you don't! You hate me. Why? I have no idea, but you do. Since you so desperately want a new mate, then why don't you go ahead and sever the connection? I can't do it because I'm not shifted and because I don't hold the authority here. You do, Jaxon, you're the Alpha. So please just do it so I can move on."

"You won't shift if I do that. You'll never gain your wolf form. You'll cease to be a werewolf. What would you do then? You can't live with the packs as a human—you know that. So, what would you do? Hm? Live on the streets? Please, enlighten me on your plan," He pushes his fists into his dress pants' pockets, his shirt tightening over his chest as he begins to heavily breathe out of anger.

"I would find a human man and fall in love with him," I mutter, staring out the window.

"Love in the human world isn't that simple, Isabelle. They change partners multiple times. They play each other. They cheat. It's not like our world."

"Really? Because it sounds almost identical from my point of view," I say louder, despite the fact that that he'll hear it even if I whisper it.

"That is not fair. You have no idea what I'm struggling with here!" He argues and I fly to my feet. My head swims in circles but I stand strong, nonetheless.

"What you're struggling with? Ha! I'm here, locked up in this house, depressed, while you get to sleep with whomever you like and do whatever the hell you want!" I yell.

"No, I don't, Isabelle. I'm facing questions from my Pack about their seemingly weak and unwilling Luna. I'm also facing an inquiry from the Council on behalf of my treatment of you. So, no, I don't have it easy!" He shouts back, his face blood red.

I halt the insult hanging off my tongue and allow my mouth to gape open. "T-The Council? As in the American Council of Werewolves?"
I sit back down, burrowing myself into the sheets.

Jaxon presses his fingertips into his eyes and paces for a moment. "Yes. Apparently, someone sent them a letter about my mistreatment of you. They're going to investigate. If they find viable evidence, I'll stand trial."

His eyes are boring into me now and I stare down a piece of lint stuck to my leggings.

"Isabelle, was it you? Did you turn me in?" His voice reaches my ears.

Even if I lie, he'll know it. He has access to all my thoughts and feelings, so he'll definitely know it.

"No," I say, mindlessly pulling up my socks.

He sighs again and I watch him out of my peripheral vision. He runs his fingers through his hair, a conflicted look upon his face. It's almost as if he knows I'm lying but he doesn't want to say anything. It's like he wants to trust me, but he can't.

"I'm not sure how you got the letter out," He, finally, evenly speaks, "but I'm going to need you to redact it."

Anger flares up within me and I, once again, stand. "Even if I did write that letter, which I didn't," I lie through my teeth, "why would I redact it? Obviously everything it said was true and you deserve to stand trial."

"You don't understand, Isabelle. If I am found guilty and put to death, not only will you and I suffer, hundreds of people will too. My pack has never been without me. Once I'm gone, others will come. They'll kill mercilessly. Women, children, anything with a heartbeat. They'll do anything to say that they defeated the great Moonlight pack. Do you really want to have all of that blood on your hands? Innocent blood? Plus, do you want to suffer immensely? If I die, you'll feel it as well. You'll die too, eventually. The Council can kill me, but they can't make me sever the bond."

I raise my eyebrows, stumbling backwards, "You're threatening me?"

He scrunches his forehead, "No."

"Yes, you are! Basically, you're saying that if I don't redact it, they'll most likely kill you. And if you're going to die, you won't sever our connection, meaning I'll die too. You're looming my death over my head in order to force me into sending a different statement."

"Call it what you will," He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

I scoff, turn away from him, then turn back, my expression incredulous. "I can't believe you! If you had been kind to me in the first place, we wouldn't be here now! This is all your fault, not mine. And I will not fall prey to your threats. I—"

In a split second, he's grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and yanked my weak form against his hard body.

My breathing struggles to even out as I slightly thrash against him. "Let me go, Jaxon."

Our eyes meet, his mouth slightly open as he breathes. One of his hands comes to caress my cheek and I shudder at the gentleness of it.

"None of my behavior was planned," He mumbles, still intensely watching me.

"You're too impulsive," I castigate softly, watching him as well.

It's silent for a moment. In that moment, all that can be heard is our labored breathing and the light pitter-patter of rain against the house.

Then, he does the unthinkable.

He kisses me.