Captive Mate (Mismatched Mates Book 2) by Eliot Grayson

Author:Eliot Grayson [Grayson, Eliot]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2020-08-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Keep Your Enemies Closer

After a stunned pause, Colin’s eyes widened, and he let out a sharp crack of laughter. “Shamans are so fucking weird, dude. Really? A fucking bobcat?”

Now, I’d never found Colin particularly attractive; he wasn’t quite tall enough, and his muscles were overdeveloped, and he had light hair and brown eyes, and he didn’t hold a candle to — other people. Even so. He was looking at me as I stood in front of him naked, and laughing. And calling me weird.

“Do you want me to burn you alive or flay your skin from your bones, or would you rather try again?” I glared him down, my nose in the air. How dare he? And then I crouched down to dig my clothes out of my backpack, because he didn’t deserve to see me naked.

He made a choking sound that was probably another stifled burst of laughter. “I apologize,” he said completely insincerely, holding up his hands in a ‘come on now, calm down’ gesture that only infuriated me more. “Just — I didn’t expect it. What the hell are you doing here, Jonah? You’re supposed to be Matthew’s prisoner right about now.”

The sound of Matthew’s name sent an unpleasant jolt through me. Why couldn’t he have just referred to the Armitage pack? “I escaped,” I said tersely, letting the obviously, you idiot hang in the air unspoken. I tugged the track pants up my legs and unrolled the t-shirt. “And I’m here to help you. Just maybe not the way you expect.”

Colin tilted his head and examined me through narrowed eyes. “That sounds like the kind of shit a mage says when they’re about to turn you into a diseased frog and then explain how it’s actually for your own good.”

I choked down a laugh of my own. Now there was an idea. I could get behind Parker living out the rest of his life as a diseased frog. It wouldn’t be a long one, since I’d stomp him into diseased green slime. But still. Not a bad idea.

“No frogs. Probably,” I amended. “Not you, anyway. Look. I overheard your phone call.” He startled, his face going red, and started to protest. “No, I don’t know who you were talking to, and I also don’t care,” I said before he could really get going. “But I know you think your pack’s making a wrong move. And I agree with you.”

He pursed his lips. “Yeah. That’s super fucking convincing, dude. You don’t have any attachment to my pack. How do I know you didn’t make a deal with Matthew Armitage? You could be playing everyone against the middle. That sounds like the Jonah I know.”

I paused in the act of straightening my shirt. The thing was, that was the Jonah he knew. It was also the Jonah I knew, and the whatever-pseudonym-of-the-week I and everyone else had always known.

But it apparently wasn’t Arik, which probably came as even more of a surprise to me than it would to anyone else.

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