Page 28 of Collared Mate

Rick set me up, I realize as these men are stupid enough to collectively put their hands on me. I am going to bite their fucking hands off.

“Silver her!” Kyle shouts. “She’s about to shift!”

He’s right about that, actually. I am about to shift. I am about to transform and rip every single one of these men’s throats out, and if they shift too, then good. I’ll enjoy that battle as well.

But they’re prepared for that. I guess they watched the videos and decided they didn’t want to discover what their own entrails looked like when viewed through a violent feminist lens.

I scream as the silver is placed around my neck, immediately arresting my shift. This is unfuckingbelievable. I am the ranking female of the pack, and they are treating me like some wayward stray to be kidnapped.

I have never wanted to be rescued before. I have never imagined that I could be. But I am yelling for Henry. Unfortunately, he’s not here. He has no idea this is happening. Rick must have gotten wind of him being in the picture and acted for some reason. I don’t get why. I don’t understand why any of this is happening. What I do know is that my pack considers me a tradable asset.

They lift me off the couch, all three of them working together while Kyle comes around to supervise and bark orders that nobody needs from him.

I lash out with my white pump and kick him in the face. It makes a satisfying crunch against his nose, and blood immediately starts pouring down his face.

“Get that little bitch out of here!” He curses while trying to staunch the bleeding with a monogrammed kerchief that instantly saturates.

“That looks broken,” I shout out. “You should probably get that looked at by a doctor.”

“Easy,” the kidnapper leader says. “Nobody needs to get hurt, little lady. If you settle down, we can handle you more gently.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes,” he says.

I punch him. It’s a cheap shot to the gut, but fuck this guy.

“Fuck,” he curses, grunting as he struggles to keep a hold on me.

They really thought that stopping me from taking my wolf form was going to make me easier to handle. The truth is, I’m in a slippery blue dress and I am just as capable of being fucking dangerous without my wolf form.

Half-free, I flail toward the desk and grab the letter opener that looks like a marble statue of a wolf. Nobody else would know that when you grab the head it comes off and a sharp blade is underneath, but like I said, this fucker has all my father’s things in his office. I grew up playing with this stuff. I’m pretty sure Rick has a scar on his leg from where I stabbed him with this when we were playing as kids.

“Let her go! She’s got a knife!” The leader of the kidnappers calls out the order and the other two instantly obey. The door of the office is open, and there’s a trail of blood from where Kyle rushed out to get medical attention. That leaves me standing in the middle of that overstuffed room, blood on my right pump, knife in my hand.

The expressions on their faces have changed now that they’ve realized I’m capable of hurting them. When they came in here they had that smug, calm air that multiple men get when they think they’re going after a helpless girl. Now they look worried. Only thing that beats a knife is a gun, and they can’t shoot the goods.

The leader approaches me again, staying mostly out of what he thinks is stabbing range. I can move surprisingly fast if I have to. I slowly kick off the pumps, one at a time. My toes feel good in the carpet. Lots of grip.