Cuffed By My Mate (Twisted Oak Pack: First Responders #2)

Chapter 7

SEVEN

Vera

I collapse back onto the mattress after Crew is gone, my body still tingling from the aftershocks of pleasure. A lazy smile tugs at my lips as I roll onto my side, reaching for his pillow and burying my face in it.

He smells so good.

That deep, rich scent of pine and cedarwood, mixed with something uniquely him , fills my senses. My bear sighs, content, and I feel it too—a bone-deep satisfaction I never thought I’d experience.

I stay there for a moment, wrapped in the warmth of his scent, in the memory of his touch, and the lingering whisper of his hands on my skin.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.

I’m… happy.

Not just in a fleeting way, not in the way that feels like it might be snatched away at any second. But truly, deeply safe.

I’ve never had that before.

Being with Crew is everything. A dream. A gift.

He sees me—really sees me. And more than that, he loves me. He makes me feel beautiful, and smart, and precious.

And my bear?

She’s never been more at peace.

This place, this pack, him—they are our home.

It’s where we’re meant to be.

The shrill ring of my phone pulls me from my thoughts, and I groan, rolling onto my back and blindly reaching for it on the nightstand.

Still half-smiling, I answer without checking the screen.

“Hello?”

“Vera.”

My stomach drops.

The sharp, cold bite of my father’s voice sends ice through my veins, and just like that, the warmth of Crew’s bed vanishes.

I should have looked before answering. I never would have picked up if I’d known.

I sit up, gripping the phone tighter, my body tensing.

“Are you alone?” my dad asks, voice clipped, suspicious.

I clear my throat. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you call earlier?” my brother demands in the background, his tone impatient, accusatory.

I swallow hard, my fingers gripping the sheets. “I wasn’t alone then. Crew just left.”

“Who’s Crew?” Jim’s voice cuts in, sharp and biting. “Have you seen Nori?”

I hate the way he says her name.

I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with his niece, and I don’t want to know. The thought alone makes my stomach churn.

“No,” I say, keeping my voice steady.

“Who is he then?” my dad barks.

I flinch and pull the phone away from my ear, my heart hammering.

I need to handle this. Now.

I won’t let them have control over me anymore. I won’t let them manipulate me or make me feel like I owe them something.

I have to find the courage to say what I should have said a long time ago.

“He’s my mate.”

Silence.

The kind of silence that drowns.

Then—

“NO!” My father’s roar shakes through the phone. “You are not being mates with some prick from Twisted Oak!”

I pull the phone away from my ear again as shouting erupts on their end.

I hear my brother’s voice, filled with venom. Jim is screaming something about me being a whore and a traitor.

I knew this was coming.

And yet, it still stings.

I grit my teeth and hold my ground. “He’s my mate, and I’m staying here with him. I’m not spying for you. I’m not coming back to the Red Fog Pack. I’m done with you. With all of you.”

My heart pounds, but I refuse to take the words back.

“You’ll be dead to us,” my brother warns.

I force out a slow, steady breath. “I know.”

“You’ll regret this,” Jim snarls.

His voice is different this time—there’s something personal in his anger.

Maybe it’s the fact that another girl escaped him. Maybe it’s because I was his way in, his leverage, and now I’m gone.

I don’t know, and I don’t care.

I don’t have anything left to say to them.

Then—

My dad’s voice. Quiet. Calculating.

And somehow, that’s worse.

“You’ve always been a stupid bitch,” he sneers, his words laced with venom. “Just like your mother.”

I go rigid.

My grip tightens around the phone as my breath catches in my throat.

“You were worthless to this family and this pack,” he continues, voice smooth, cruel. “And you’ll be worthless to them too.”

A sharp, cruel chuckle from my brother follows. Tears prick at my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

“When your mate gets sick of you and tosses you aside,” my dad continues, “don’t you dare come crawling back here. You won’t be welcome.”

The line goes dead.

I stare at the phone in my trembling hand, my breath coming in slow, uneven bursts.

And then…

I toss it onto the bed beside me and stare up at the ceiling.

Their words circle in my head, but as I sit there, letting them sink in , I realize something.

I’m not sad. I’m relieved .

I have been cut off . I never have to go back. I never have to be Vera from the Red Fog Pack again. It’s freeing . It’s like taking a deep breath after being underwater for too long.

I press a hand to my chest, grounding myself in the steady beat of my heart. Now, all that’s left to do is come clean to Crew. I need to tell him everything —how I got here, why I came, what I was supposed to do.

I need to lay it all out, because now, there’s nothing tying me to my past.

I get dressed and head downstairs, running through what I’ll say. By the time his headlights flash through the window, I feel ready .

I can do this.

I will do this.

I stand as the truck pulls to a stop. Heading for the door, my heart races. The second it swings open, I look up at Crew, my lips parting?—

But then I see him.

And my stomach drops .

His expression is wrong.

His eyes—dark, stormy, unreadable.

My bear whines inside me, pawing at me, nervous, and I know right away.

He knows .

My breath catches.

“I can explain,” I blurt out.