Vivian Cole is close to starting her junior year of college. She's out for one last run in her home state of Louisiana when everything changes for her.
Saul Moses is the Alpha of a dying pack in Alaska. When on business in the South, he encounters...
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The only sound heard in the room is the crack! of my palm across his cheek.
"How dare you kiss me? Without my consent? I don't know you! What the hell is wrong with you?" His cheek tinges pink, but the slap barely moved his face. Come to think of it, I'm sure my hand hurts more than his cheek does.
"I apologize, Vivian," His mouth is set in a taut line. "I thought it might help if you felt the connection—"
"I didn't feel anything but anger at you!" I yell again and he nods, breathing slowly through his nose. "Are you... are you mad at me for slapping you? You've got to be kidding me!"
"You can't disrespect me like that," He bites out, containing his anger. "I'm the Alpha. It won't slide here—"
"You're not my Alpha because I'm not a dog!" I exclaim, sick of this bullshit.
He sighs, obviously annoyed, "I am your Alpha because you're my mate—"
"No!" I scream, slamming my uninjured hand over my ear in a childish motion. "I won't listen to this! I-I want to leave. I want to go home—"
"You are home—" The muffled sound of Saul's voice causes me to vehemently shake my head.
"No!"
"Vivian—" I feel his hand on my wrist, prying it from my head. My strength is no match for his as he pins it behind my back, turns me around, and pushes me facedown onto the bed. He holds me there by the grip on the armlock he has me in and his legs pin mine down.
"No!" I shout again, wriggling as much as possible. "Don't!"
"I'm not going to hurt you," He grits out, easily holding me down.
"Why are you doing this? Let go!"
"You're being irrational. It's time to be an adult, and accept—"
"Just because I'm not accepting you holding me captive here, doesn't mean I'm not an adult!"
"Fine. But, you still have to accept—"
"I don't have to accept shit."
He sighs, pauses, "I don't want to have to treat you like a prisoner, Vivian."
"You already are?!" I exclaim, somewhat confused but also outraged.
"No," He sighs, resigned, "I'm not. And I don't want to. But I will—"
"Let go!" I wriggle against him, but it's no use. He goes to say something else, to argue again, to start the circle of conversation we've been rotating around for hours, when there's a knock on the door.
