His Fated Mate-Completed- A Werewolf Romance

Four: Captive

Second Draft

Fiona's POV

With his murderous gaze fixed on me, I pushed myself off my elbows. It surprised me when Rowan shoved me on the bed, but never again. I'll be ready in the future. While worried about her health, I cursed Kat under my breath for getting us into this mess. A thousand thoughts clouded my mind, making it hard to concentrate. I only knew that we needed to get out of there Fast.

I didn't choose to leave with Rowan—he forced my hand—but I had found him appealing. Now, he stood staring at me like I was pond scum, and I still found him attractive. What is wrong with me? I need to stay away from men I find handsome and alluring. It always leads to trouble.

"Listen," I said with a calmness I damn sure didn't feel. "I don't know where you heard such horrible lies about my father, but they are untrue. He is a pillar of society." I raised my palms in a placating gesture and scooted to the edge of the bed. I felt vulnerable with him towering over me. He was a raging lunatic, and I hoped his brother and sister were sane. They seemed more amenable, at least. "I appreciate everything you've done for us tonight. You saved our lives." Looking up, I had hoped to see his face soften a bit. But so much for hope.

He looked at me with contempt and stone-cold eyes, but I continued, "And I am thankful for..." I glanced over at Kat as Kyra was taping a bandage over the wound on her neck. "For the special care of Kat, too. So, can we forget all this nasty business? I'll call for a ride and never speak of this again."

With a smirk, he placed his large hands on his hips.

"I just need my purse." I stood, but Rowan didn't budge. My first instinct was to sit back down, but I held firm. "I'm sorry I threatened you, all right? I won't speak of this to anyone—not The Gardaí or my father. You can listen as I make that call for a ride. He pushed me back onto the bed as I stepped around him.

I was tired of him shoving me around. "What is wrong with you? Is saying sorry not enough? What would you like me to do?"

He laughed.

My anger, which was brimming below the surface, erupted. I sat back up, gritted my teeth, and took a long breath to calm my nerves. My temper would only enrage Rowan more.

He laughed again. "You are so funny, you know... fuckin' hilarious."

The mock humor disappeared as the words left my lips, replaced by his notorious scowl. I felt a spark between us at the club, but something had changed. It was hard to describe, yet it was almost magical the way his bright green eyes seemed to search my soul. I felt drawn to him in an unfamiliar but thrilling way. For a moment, I'd let myself daydream of a relationship with him after he saved my life.

Stupid, stupid female shit, I admonished myself in silence.

I was foolish and ashamed that I'd practically named our children. A wee lad with chestnut brown hair and dark emerald eyes matching his dad's. A wee lass with coal-black curls framing a heart-shaped face with large blue eyes like mine. And even with everything that had transpired, I still felt something for him. Something besides the fear and hatred—something foreign I couldn't name. My brain was battling to take control of my ridiculous emotions. There should be nothing to battle, and I shouldn't harbor any fondness for this horrible man holding me captive.

I despise him. I told myself to gain back my wits and control. Why does he have to be so bloody gorgeous? He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, and I wanted to run my fingers through his thick dark hair and get lost in his eyes the color of a lush summer field. His body was lean but muscular, just the way I like. I wasn't fond of stocky, brawny men, but Rowan appeared like robust perfection. Damn him!