Forced Mate

8: The Bylaws of American Packs

A/N: hey guys! Hope you enjoy! Isabelle Quinn to the top!!!

Where am I?

Familiar cottages and woods surround me and I realize that I'm home— with my old pack. I grin, calling out the oh-so-familiar name, "Jon!"

When he doesn't come, I jog slightly forward, eagerly searching for him, "Jon! Where are you?"

"Looking for your boyfriend?" A voice comes from behind me. I whirl around to meet Jaxon, his clothes and skin soaked completely through with red— with blood.

"W-Where's Jon?" I stutter, my bottom lip beginning to tremble.

"Heads up," He smiles, tossing something at me. It hits my chest with a thud and I throw out my arms to catch it.

I look down to see what he's thrown me, and I recognize the face of my best friend.

It's his head.

I scream, dropping the body part and stepping backwards, my now-bloody hands flying up to cover my mouth. "Jon!" Sobs wrack my whole body. "No!"

"I warned you," Jaxon says, his words dying off as he begins to laugh, "but you didn't listen."

"Y-You're a monster!" I shout, grief terrorizing my whole being.

Suddenly, he's six inches away from me.

"Yes, sweetheart, I am," Then, his hand is inside my chest, clutching at my heart.

"Goodbye," He chimes, before pulling it out completely.

I fall— dead.

I scream as I come to, sweat soaking through my clothes and the stone floor freezing my body. I let out a shiver, trying to regulate body heat since this place doesn't seem to have a heater.

Moonlight streams in from the large windows and I sit up, eyes scanning the room for Jaxon. I pat at my chest, finding that my heart is, indeed, still there.

The grandfather clock hoisted on the wall reads 1:00 AM, and I lift myself from the ground. I brush off the dust from the stone floor and take a couple steps forwards, checking, again, to see if Jaxon is anywhere near.

When I don't sense the presence of anyone but myself, I turn back, searching for the light switch. When I don't find one, I merely pad back towards the couch and pick up the wool throw laid across the surface.

I wrap it around myself, hoping to ease the chills wracking my body, and make my way towards the stairs in the far corner of the room. I gingerly step up them, trying to keep from tripping and injuring myself.

When I finally make it up to the top, I peek my head into the rooms lining the hallway: bathroom, sitting room, gym, another bathroom, bedroom.

Without any further investigation, I push open the door to the bedroom, inching my way inside to the large, luxurious bed.

It appears as if it's two King-sized beds placed side-by-side with a large silk duvet over the top. I lightly run my fingers over the top of it before yanking it back to reveal silk sheets as well.

Well, someone has money to blow on bedding.

Deciding against ruining the bedding with my soiled clothes, I approach the chest of drawers and yank open the top one. Neatly folded t-shirts of darker shades line the whole compartment.

It only takes a moment for me to realize that they're Jaxon's. Do I really want to wear his clothes?

It's just a shirt, it's not like you're marrying the guy.