Broken Forced Mate (Badlands Wolves #5)

Prologue - Raegan

I’m going to tell him tonight.

My heart pounds as I slip through the gardens behind the Grayhide pack hall. Three months have passed since the pull first hit me, that undeniable recognition that Wyn Lemay is my mate. The bond pulses between us constantly now.

He has to feel it, too. I know from the way he watches me during pack meetings, always positioning himself where he can see potential threats.

How he’s spent extra time teaching me self-defense moves that aren’t standard omega training.

The protective growl that rumbles in his chest when other alphas get too close.

My brother Oren trusts Wyn more than anyone else in the pack. They’ve been best friends since childhood, and when Oren became alpha leader after our father’s death, Wyn became his most valued advisor and protector of our family.

Which makes what I’m about to do either perfectly natural or completely catastrophic.

Oren rebuilt the Grayhide pack from the ground up after Jerrod’s corruption nearly destroyed us.

Our father’s legacy was one of fear and cruelty, turning neighbor against neighbor and using intimidation and violence to maintain control.

Pack members lived in constant terror, never knowing when they might face punishment for some perceived slight.

Children grew up watching their parents cower before my father’s rage.

Omegas were treated as property rather than people.

When Oren took over, he had to earn back the trust that was shattered over decades.

Wyn stood by him through every difficult decision, every challenge to his authority, every late night spent planning how to fix what seemed irreparable.

Together, they dismantled the systems of fear our father had built.

They created new policies to protect omegas, established fair councils for dispute resolution, and opened communication channels that were closed for years.

The transformation wasn’t easy. Some pack members resisted change and clung to the old ways because they understood them.

Others tested Oren’s resolve, pushing boundaries to see if he would resort to violence like his predecessor.

Through it all, Wyn remained steady at Oren’s side, offering counsel when needed and enforcement when necessary.

Pack dynamics are delicate things. Trust, once broken, takes years to rebuild.

Wyn understood this better than most, having grown up on the outskirts of pack territory after his family’s fall from grace.

His parents died when he was sixteen, leaving him with nothing but the need to prove himself worthy of belonging somewhere.

That loyalty runs both ways. Oren values Wyn’s counsel above all others, trusts him with the pack’s most sensitive intelligence, and, most importantly, trusts him with the safety of his family. Me.

Knowing that makes my feet feel even heavier as I walk deeper into the garden.

Wyn isn’t just my brother’s friend. He’s the person Oren relies on to keep me safe in a world where being an alpha’s sister makes me a target.

Where enemies might try to use me to get to the pack’s leader, and one wrong move could endanger everyone I care about.

Wyn takes that responsibility seriously. Too seriously, sometimes. He monitors my daily schedule, knows where I go and when I’ll return. He’s memorized the security for every building I frequent. He’s trained me to fight, to recognize threats, to react quickly when danger appears.

But over the past few months, I’ve sensed something deeper. The way his scent changes when I enter a room. How his pupils dilate when I get too close. The careful distance he maintains, as if getting nearer might break his control.

My stomach churns as I think about how this conversation could go wrong, but I have to take that risk. The bond between us grows stronger every day, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t exist anymore.

The gardens are filled with desert blooms that only open after sunset.

Their sweet fragrance fills the evening as I search for the man who’s consumed my thoughts for months.

I’ve been coming here for weeks, hoping to catch Wyn during his patrols.

Tonight, finally, I spot his tall frame near the fountain.

Damp, dark brown hair sticks to his forehead. Those gray eyes that always seem to see everything scan the perimeter before landing on me. He stands six feet tall with a lean but powerful build, muscles earned from years of training and protecting rather than vanity.

Tonight, he’s wearing dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that emphasizes his broad chest and narrow waist. Everything about him speaks of strength, of a man who could be dangerous but chooses restraint.

His face carries the weathered look of someone who spends more time outdoors than inside, with high cheekbones and a mouth that rarely curves upward.

Wyn looks up and does a double-take at me as I near him. “What are you doing out here so late, Raegan?”

“Looking for you.” I suck in a deep, cleansing breath before I add, “I need to talk to you about something important.”

His whole body goes rigid. Those gray eyes narrow as he takes in my appearance, probably noting my carefully chosen dress, the way I’ve styled my hair, and the nervous energy that doubtlessly shows on my face.

I spent an hour getting ready tonight. I chose the blue dress because I know it brings out my eyes and braided my hair loosely so it falls over one shoulder, adding just enough perfume to enhance my natural scent without being obvious about it.

The mate bond practically vibrates between us now that we’re close. I can see his nostrils flare as he catches my scent, but he maintains his composure.

“If this is about your security detail for next week’s summit, I’ve already briefed your brother—”

“It’s not about that.” I step closer, and I watch him fight the urge to back away. The mate bond thrums stronger the nearer I get. “It’s about us.”

“Us?” His voice sounds strangled.

Now that I’m closer, I can see the way his pupils dilate, and I catch the faintest hint of his arousal. His hands clench at his sides, and I know he’s fighting the same pull I feel. The same recognition that’s been building for months.

Every instinct I have screams that he’s mine, that we belong together. My wolf recognizes his on a level that goes beyond conscious thought.

Another deep breath. It’s now or never.

My hands tremble as I reach toward him. “I know you feel it, too. The pull. The recognition. We’re mates, Wyn.”

The silence unfolds between us like a chasm. His face goes completely blank, and that professional mask he wears in dangerous situations slides into place. When he finally speaks, his words cut through me.

“You’re mistaken.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not. The bond is there. I can feel it every time you’re near me. The way my wolf recognizes yours—”

“You’re too young to understand what you’re feeling.” His tone becomes clinical, distant. “These aren’t supernatural bonds, Raegan. You’re confusing proximity and protection with something that doesn’t exist.”

The rejection burns through my chest. “I’m twenty years old. I know what a mate bond feels like.”

“You know what you think it feels like.” Wyn crosses his arms, creating a barrier between us. “What you’re experiencing is gratitude mixed with attraction. Nothing more.”

“That’s not true.” My voice cracks despite my efforts to stay strong. “I’ve felt attraction before. This is different. This is—”

“A fantasy. You’ve romanticized a working relationship into something it’s not.”

I think about all the moments that led me here. How he always seemed to appear whenever I needed help, as if some invisible thread connected us. The dreams that started months ago, vivid and real, where we were together in ways that made me wake up aching and wanting.

Those moments felt real. The connection between us felt real. But maybe I’ve been seeing what I wanted to see instead of what was actually there.

The doubt creeps in despite my certainty. What if I have been imagining things? What if the bond I feel so strongly is one-sided, a product of wishful thinking?

“Why are you lying to me? I can smell your wolf’s interest. I can feel how you react when I’m close.”

His jaw works, and for a moment, I see something in those gray eyes. Pain, maybe. Or longing. But then the mask slides back into place like a steel door slamming shut.

“Even if what you’re suggesting were true,” he says, and for a heartbeat I think he’s going to admit it, “you’re Oren’s sister. You’re under my protection. Acting on any attraction would be a betrayal of trust.”

“My brother would understand—”

“Your brother would kill me. And he’d be right to do it.”

The certainty in his tone makes my stomach drop. “That’s not true. Oren wants me to be happy.”

“Oren wants you to be safe.” He takes a step back, putting more distance between us. “And that means staying away from things that could compromise your security.”

I think about the past year again, clearly now. How carefully orchestrated our interactions were. Always professional. Always appropriate. Never alone for more than a few minutes. I thought he was being respectful, giving me space to come to terms with what I felt.

Now I realize he was protecting himself from precisely this moment.

The realization hits me hard. Every careful boundary he’s maintained, every bit of distance he’s kept, wasn’t out of respect for me. It was self-preservation.

“I see.” I force myself to stand straighter, to hold on to what dignity I have left. “So even if you felt something, you’d never act on it because I’m too much trouble.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” The tears come anyway, hot and humiliating. “I understand perfectly now.”

I turn to leave, but his voice stops me.

“Raegan, wait.”

When I look back, his gray eyes hold something that might be regret. For one wild moment, I think he’s going to take it all back, admit that he feels the bond, too. That maybe we can find a way to make this work despite the obstacles.

Instead, he says, “Focus on your studies. You have a bright future ahead of you. Don’t waste it on foolish romantic notions.”

The dismissal cuts deeper than anything else he’s said. Foolish romantic notions. As if everything I feel, everything I know to be true about us, is just some silly girl’s daydream.

“Of course. Thank you for the advice.”

This time, when I turn away, he doesn’t call me back.

I make it halfway across the garden before my composure cracks. The sobs tear out of me in harsh, ugly sounds that echo off the stone walls. Everything I thought I knew about us, about destiny and mate bonds, crumbles around me.

What’s wrong with me that even my own mate would reject me? Every book I’ve read, every story I’ve heard, talks about how difficult it is for mates to resist each other. The pull should be almost irresistible for both parties. Yet Wyn just walked away like it meant nothing.

Like, I mean nothing.

The shame burns through me, worse than the heartbreak. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have misread every signal, every moment of protectiveness, every lingering look?

I think about the other mated couples in our pack. All of them fought for their bonds. All of them chose love over convenience, over safety, over the easy path.

Wyn chose duty.

But maybe that’s what I should have expected. Wyn has always been the responsible one, the man who puts the pack’s needs above his own desires. Why would I think he’d change that for me?

I sink onto a stone bench and let the tears fall. The desert blooms around me release their sweet fragrance, but all I can smell is my own humiliation.

Months of harboring these feelings, and it all meant nothing to him. I’m just Oren’s little sister, a responsibility he’s stuck with.

The worst part is that I can’t even hate him for it. I understand his position, the impossible situation I’ve put him in. If he acknowledged the bond, if he acted on it, he’d risk everything he’s built with Oren. His place in the pack, his purpose, his honor.

I’m asking him to choose between his duty and his heart, and he’s chosen duty. Just like any good man would.

But understanding doesn’t make it hurt less. Understanding doesn’t ease the ache in my chest or stop the tears from falling.

Never again. I will never let someone make me feel this small, this worthless. I will never again mistake protection for affection or confuse duty with desire.

The plan forms in my mind even as the tears dry on my cheeks.

The Llewelyn pack has been expanding their educational programs, offering advanced courses to students from other territories.

Their matriarchal society values different things than the male-dominated packs here.

Maybe there I can find my worth in something other than being someone’s mate or someone’s sister.

I’ll apply tomorrow. I’ll get accepted, and I’ll leave this place behind. I’ll build a life where I matter for who I am, not for whom I belong to.

The application process won’t be easy. The Llewelyn pack is selective about their exchange students, preferring candidates who can contribute something valuable to their society. But I have advantages that others don’t.

My education has been thorough, covering subjects most pack children never study. I speak three languages fluently and have basic knowledge of two others. My connection to Grayhide leadership might open doors that would otherwise remain closed.

More importantly, I have motivation now. The burning need to prove that I’m more than just someone’s sister or someone’s rejected mate.

And I’ll never come back to face the man who made it clear I wasn’t worth fighting for.

I stand up and walk back toward the pack hall, leaving the garden and its false promises behind. Tomorrow, I start building a life that doesn’t revolve around someone else’s approval.

Tomorrow, I start forgetting about Wyn Lemay.

But tonight, in the privacy of my room, I’ll let myself cry for the dream that died in a desert garden. I’ll mourn the future I thought we might have had, the bond I was so certain existed between us.

And then I’ll pack it all away and never look back.