Chapter 7 - Wyn
The drive to Hysopp Coven territory passes in silence so thick it’s choking my wolf.
Raegan sits in the passenger seat with her hands zip-tied in front of her, staring out the window with murder in her hazel eyes. Every few minutes, she turns that lethal glare on me, and I force myself to keep watching the road instead of drowning in the hate radiating from her.
The chloroform wore off an hour ago. She woke up screaming and trying to open the door until she realized we were moving at highway speeds, then went deadly quiet. That quiet is somehow worse than the screaming.
When she finally does speak, her voice could freeze desert sand. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe,” I try to reassure her.
“Safe from what? My fiancé? My family? Or just safe from having any say in my own life?”
The leather on the steering wheel squeezes as I tighten my grip. “Safe from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“The biggest mistake of my life was ever trusting you in the first place.”
That one lands right in my chest, but I don’t let it show. Can’t let it show.
The landscape changes as we cross into Hysopp territory.
Desert scrub gives way to rolling hills covered in wild herbs and medicinal plants.
The Hysopp coven has maintained this land for over two centuries, using their knowledge of botanical magic to create a sanctuary for supernatural healing and binding rituals.
They’re also the only territory that performs marriages recognized across all pack lands without requiring bureaucratic approval.
“Wyn,” Raegan’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “Why are you taking me out here?”
I don’t answer. I can’t bring myself to.
The coven’s main compound comes into view—adobe buildings arranged in a circle around a central courtyard where ancient trees provide shade for outdoor ceremonies. Smoke rises from chimneys, carrying the scent of burning sage and something else I can’t identify.
Weddings aren’t common in our pack. They’re typically reserved for high-profile couples and serve as a function to bring people together. Most wolves are content with simple mate-bonding ceremonies within their own territory.
But I need some kind of legal tie to get rid of Bastian and keep Raegan by my side until we can devise a proper strategy.
A wooden sign near the entrance reads “Hysopp Coven—Healing, Herbalism, and Sacred Unions.” Below that, in smaller text: “Wedding ceremonies performed daily.”
Raegan follows my gaze to the sign, and I watch the color drain from her face.
“You son of a bitch.” Raegan’s voice shakes with fury. “You kidnapped me to force me into marriage? What century do you think this is?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Really? Because it looks like you drugged me, tied me up, and drove me to a place that performs weddings. What exactly am I supposed to think?”
I park the truck near the main building and turn to face her. Big mistake. Those hazel eyes burn with years of accumulated rage, and the sight of her fury makes my wolf pace restlessly.
“This is about protection,” I tell her. “Legal protection. If you’re married to me, Bastian loses any claim to you he might have established through the engagement.”
“I can break my own engagement, thank you very much.”
“Not if he’s dead. Not if his people claim you were bonded to him in…some way that gives them rights over you.”
The words taste like ash in my mouth, but they’re necessary.
I hate thinking about her and that bastard in bed, creating a union of sorts, but Raegan needs to understand the stakes without me revealing classified intelligence about Thornridge operations.
She can’t know that us getting married and mating will unlock something inside that will make it impossible for them to touch her, no matter how much I want to tell her.
“You’re insane.” She struggles against the zip ties, and the plastic cuts into her wrists. “Completely, utterly insane.”
An elderly woman steps out of the main building, moving with the careful grace of someone who’s seen decades pass. Her silver hair is braided with small bones and dried flowers, and her dark eyes hold the kind of wisdom that comes from years of witnessing human folly.
Evangeline Blackthorne, the coven’s chief marriage officiant. I’ve heard stories about her for years—how she can sense the true nature of bonds between people, how her ceremonies carry power that goes beyond simple legal documentation.
“Wyn Lemay.” Her voice carries a slight accent I’ve never been able to place. “It’s been some time since you’ve visited our territory.”
“Evangeline.” I climb out of the truck and move to help Raegan, who immediately tries to kick me when I reach for her.
“Don’t touch me.”
Evangeline flashes us a knowing smile. “Ah. And this must be the bride.”
“There is no bride,” Raegan snaps. “There’s just a kidnapping victim who’s about to file charges against this maniac.”
“Interesting.” Evangeline clucks her tongue as she watches us both with those ancient eyes. “The bonds I sense tell a different story.”
“What bonds?” Raegan demands.
But Evangeline just smiles and gestures toward the main building. “Perhaps we should discuss this inside. The desert chill can be quite harsh this time of night.”
I cut Raegan’s restraints with my knife, ready to grab her if she bolts. She rubs her wrists and glares at me like she’s planning my murder.
“I’m not going anywhere with either of you.”
“Yes, you are. Because if you don’t, I’ll tie you up again and carry you inside. Your choice.”
“This is kidnapping.”
“So it is,” I acknowledge.
We stare at each other across three feet of charged desert heat. Her breathing quickens, and I catch the faint scent of her arousal beneath the anger. My wolf responds immediately, and every instinct screams at me to claim what’s mine.
But she’s not mine. She never was, and after today, she never will be. Not willingly.
Raegan stalks toward the building. “Fine, but when this is over, I’m going to destroy you.”
“Get in line,” I mumble, thinking about how her brother will have my head on a pike as I follow her inside.
The coven’s interior is exactly what I expected—whitewashed walls covered in hanging herbs, crystal formations catching sunbeams from high windows, and the constant sound of wind chimes creating an otherworldly atmosphere.
Evangeline leads us to a small chapel lined with candles and flowering vines. The altar is a simple stone, worn smooth by centuries of use, with two chairs placed in front of it.
“Please, sit.” Evangeline gestures to the chairs. “We have much to discuss.”
“We have nothing to discuss.” Raegan remains standing, arms crossed. “I’m not marrying anyone, especially not the man who kidnapped me.”
“Child.” Evangeline’s voice holds infinite patience. “Do you understand the nature of the threat you face?”
“What threat? Everyone keeps talking about threats and danger, but no one will tell me what’s actually happening.”
“Your fiancé isn’t who he claims to be,” I tell her again. “The engagement puts you and your pack at risk.”
“So, you decided to solve that problem by committing multiple felonies?”
“I’m protecting you.”
“I don’t need your protection!”
“Like hell you don’t.”
We’re standing inches apart now with fury simmering between us like electricity before a storm. Her scent fills my head—jasmine and female wolf, and my cock strains against my pants.
“You rejected me,” she whispers. Her voice breaks on the last word, and it’s like a bucket of cold water. “Three years ago, you looked me in the eye and told me I meant nothing to you.”
“I remember.”
“And now you think you can just take me? Decide what’s best for me without asking?”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“By treating me like property? By making decisions about my life like I’m some helpless child who can’t think for herself?”
Then she slaps me.
The sound splits through the chapel like a gunshot. My cheek burns, but I don’t move, don’t react. I just let her fury wash over me like I deserve.
“You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to reject me and decide you want me when it’s convenient for you.”
“It’s not about convenience.”
“Then what is it about?”
I want to tell her everything, but I can’t. Not yet.
Instead, I reach for her.
She doesn’t pull away when my hands cup her face. Doesn’t resist when I brush my thumb across her cheek, wiping away tears. I didn’t realize she was crying.
“This isn’t about wanting you,” I lie. “This is about keeping you alive. It was the only choice I could make.”
We’re breathing the same air now, standing so close I can count her eyelashes. Her pupils dilate, and I catch the scent of her arousal again, stronger this time.
“I hate you,” she breathes anyway.
“I know.”
Then I kiss her.
It’s supposed to be apologetic, a request for forgiveness I don’t deserve. Instead, it becomes something desperate and hungry as years of suppressed longing come pouring out between us.
When her tongue touches mine, my wolf howls with triumph. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer even as she bites my lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
I groan against her mouth and back her against the stone altar. She moans—actually moans—and the sound nearly drops me to my knees.
“Ahem.”
Evangeline’s polite cough breaks the spell. We spring apart like guilty teenagers, both breathing hard. Raegan’s lips are swollen, and she looks like she wants to either kill me or drag me to the nearest bed.
“Well,” Evangeline says with obvious amusement, “that certainly clarifies a few things.”
Raegan smooths her hair with shaking hands. “It doesn’t clarify anything. It just proves that my judgment is completely compromised where this man is concerned.”
“Child, your judgment is the only thing keeping you alive right now.”
Raegan turns to stare at the elderly witch. “What do you mean?”
“The bonds between you and Mr. Lemay run deeper than simple attraction. Much deeper. And the man you believe you’re engaged to…” Evangeline shakes her head. “His aura carries the stench of deception and violence.”
“You’ve never met Bastian.”
“I don’t need to meet him to know what he is. The engagement ring on your finger pulses with dark energy, child. Someone has placed a tracking spell on it.”
Raegan looks down at her engagement ring with horror. “What?”
“Remove it,” Evangeline commands. “Now.”
With trembling fingers, Raegan slides the ring off and drops it on the altar like it burned her. The simple silver band sits innocuously on the stone, but I swear I can feel malevolent energy emitting from it.
“A tracking spell,” Evangeline confirms, studying the ring without touching it. “Very sophisticated. Whoever cast this can find you anywhere in the world as long as you wear it.”
“Bastian gave me this ring.”
“Then Bastian is not who he claims to be.”
Raegan sinks into one of the chairs, all the fight draining out of her. “This is really happening, isn’t it? Everything Wyn said about him being dangerous, about the engagement being fake….”
“I’m afraid so, child.”
She looks up at me with eyes full of betrayal and confusion. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”
“Because the intelligence is classified. I’ve already told you more than I should. If I told you anything else, it could compromise ongoing investigations and get people killed.”
“So you decided to kidnap me instead.”
“I decided to save your life.”
“By forcing me into marriage with a man who rejected me.”
I swallow hard against the pain in her voice. “Yes.”
“And what happens after we’re married? Do I become your prisoner permanently, or just until you decide the threat has passed?”
“You become my wife.” The words feel strange on my tongue. “With all the legal protections that entail.”
“Legal protections from what?”
I can’t tell her about the intelligence reports suggesting Thornridge plans to use captured omegas as leverage against opposing packs.
Can’t explain that marriage to me would give her legal status that even enemy operatives would have to respect.
And I certainly can’t tell her what will change inside her once we’re—if we’re mated.
“From people who would use you to hurt your family,” I offer instead.
Raegan studies my face for a long moment. “This marriage would somehow give me power to protect my pack?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you can’t explain the details.”
“That’s right.”
She’s been quiet for so long, I start to worry she’s gone into shock. Then she stands and walks to where Evangeline is patiently waiting for the show to finish.
“If I agree to this insanity, what exactly am I signing up for?”
“A legal marriage recognized across all territories,” Evangeline replies. “The ceremony itself is binding, but you would need to file paperwork with your respective pack leaders to make it official within your own territories.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then you remain vulnerable to whatever plans your false fiancé and his associates have for you. And your pack remains vulnerable, as well.”
Raegan closes her eyes and takes a shuddering breath. When she opens them again, her expression is resigned.
“Fine. Where do I sign?”
My hands shake as Evangeline produces the marriage documents. The official forms are written in elegant script on parchment that smells of sage and old magic.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Raegan as she takes the offered pen.
“No. But I’m sure about protecting my family.” She signs her name with quick, angry strokes. “Even if it means binding myself to a man who thinks kidnapping is an acceptable form of courtship.”
I take the pen from her fingers, and our skin brushes for just a moment. The contact sends electricity up my arm, and I see her shiver in response.
“Raegan—”
“Don’t.” She steps back, putting distance between us. “Just sign the damn papers so we can figure out what comes next.”
I sign my name next to hers. Wyn Lemay and Raegan Blacklock, bound together by law, if not by choice.
“Congratulations,” Evangeline says with a smile. “You are now husband and wife.”
The words should feel triumphant. Instead, they feel like a death sentence.
Because now comes the hard part—keeping Raegan alive long enough to explain everything without her discovering the full truth about why I really rejected her three years ago.
Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with the woman you’ve just married.
Especially with the woman you’ve just married.