Torn Between Her Fated Mates

Chapter 3 - Marco

MARCO’S POV



Stupida omega she-wolves are incredibly submissive and so f*****g easy to take. Especially from a Farmers Market since the packs rarely send anyone higher than a Delta to man the booths. Usually, they are passive wolves, just selling their s**t to the humans, so no one is on high alert. If they are unmated, their packs will assume they ran off and won’t even bother looking for them, which works out great for me.

When the markets are operating, my Beta and Gamma go to different ones on various weekends and will acquire about two or three she-wolves a month. It’s a bullshit job, and I hate it, but I have been promised a pack of my own in the area if I keep the powers-at-be happy, so here I am.

We keep the pretty ones for ourselves and use them for breeding, the older or really ugly ones cook and clean for my current makeshift pack, and the halfway decent-looking ones we sell or use as entertainment at my father’s club. When they are of no more use to us, we give them away to rogues; in return, the rogues are grateful. Not that I am worried about rouges, but it helps keep them from attacking our territories, and when I need a favor, they’re more than willing to help.

Farmers’ Markets are not my thing, but I require a witch, and this is a great place to find one. They are easy to pick out, they are usually selling homemade candles, hemp clothing, incense, and books, and some of the older ones will sell potions. Most humans just think they are crazy old ladies, but more often than not, it’s a witch.

Seeing that it was just two weak males at the only booth with wolves working it, I was about to write this day off when I spotted her. An old lady with a booth filled with Wiccan crap, and it seemed she had a she-wolf at her booth as well. Fottutamente Perfetto, my day was looking better and better. Hire the witch to make me the tonics I need and grab a she-wolf; done and done.

Nothing could have been farther from done and done. What should have been just a quick snag and grab escalated really f*****g quickly, but the really interesting part was her, not the witch; she was nasty, the cazzo, she-wolf. When I first smelled her, I knew she was unmated, and I assumed an omega, but when she turned around, and I saw those stupefacente green eyes, and then she refused to submit to me, I was instantly hard. An unmated Alpha female and so f*****g pretty. Right then, I knew she was mine; when the council stole my fated mate from me and gave her to my f*****g asshat of a brother, they promised me I could handpick any female I wanted. I wanted her, and I just about had her until that bastardo Alpha showed up and claimed her as his mate.

His Beta cut in and pointed out the obvious fact that there were too many humans and too many camera phones for us to ‘cover-up,’ so I stepped down, but not before I mind-linked my Beta to discreetly kill the alpha and take the she-wolf. At the same time, my Gamma and I draw everyone’s attention away from them. The f*****g i***t doesn’t even give us thirty seconds before he indiscreetly stabs the alpha, and they all get away, even the nasty ass witch.

As we walk to the parking lot, I catch her scent again. Leading me to her car, it is obvious that she is not a pack wolf; it’s an old beater of a car, and no pack Alpha would be caught dead in that car. Inside, it is a tiny bit cluttered with what appears to be a waitress uniform in the backseat, a few different fast-food bags, and an extra pair of shoes. No, she is not a pack wolf; she might not even know she is a wolf, and I sure as hell doubt the council knows about her, or they would be looking for her. Granted, the Council denies that orphaned werewolves have grown up as humans, not realizing who they are, but they know it happens because I am one of their trackers; s**t, I am their best tracker.

I decided we were going to hang out here until someone came to get her car. Maybe we will get lucky, and they will lead us directly to her.

BREELYNN’S POV

By the time I got to my car at the Farmers’ Market, the parking lot was empty, and the few vendors left were just packing up their stuff. It took me longer to get here than expected since my running was slower than usual but still faster than anyone else’s, but that’s my secret. Pulling my keys out of my purse, I feel that odd sensation of being crowded. Turning around, I face the same mountain of men from earlier. My face starts throbbing from the memory of him striking me, and I bring my hand up as if to protect it from another assault.

Blackie, my nickname for the incredibly beautiful yet terrifying man, somehow manages to take another step forward to get even closer to me. How that is even possible, I don’t know. “Where is your….fiancé?” he smirks as the question rolls off his tongue like it is some joke I am supposed to get.

“Fiancé? Wha? I don’t...who are you?” I don’t think I have ever been so confused in my life. People are talking to me like they know me and that I am somehow involved in their lives. This man and his friends are dangerous, and I am here alone with them. The only people who could possibly help are too far away and involved in their packing.

My breathing becomes harder to maintain, I can’t focus on anything, and Blackie leans into me, putting his hands on the roof of my car and trapping me between his arms. “I am tired of playing these f*****g games. There are no humans around to overhear us; where is your f*****g mate?”

‘TELL HIM HE IS WAITING FOR YOU, DON’T ARGUE, BREELYNN, JUST TELL HIM HE IS IN THE WOODS WAITING FOR YOU, PLEASE!’ Hearing Trina’s voice is an explosion of happiness. It’s like knowing she is still with me means that everything is going to be okay. I know a voice can’t protect me from the evil hovering above me, but she gives me hope.

‘Trina, where have you been?’

‘I am not sure what happened, but I am really weak, Breelynn. You have to trust me; please tell this guy your mate is waiting for you.”

‘Did he just say there are no humans around? I can’t…I just can’t; I don’t understand.’ All of a sudden, everything is too heavy, like a bubble around me is full of dense air…air I need air; I can’t breathe. Tears are filling up my eyes, making my vision blur.

‘Breelynn, listen to me, tell him that your mate is waiting for you, and you just came back to get your car.’

“He is waiting for me.” My voice is shaky, but I think I sounded convincing. His eyes are so dark; I swear he can see through me my lies, “I just came back to get my car.” Blackie shifts his weight and gives me a smidgen of room, but not enough to get around him or his lackeys. Hope starts filling my bubble, letting me believe I might get out of this. “I have to get back.” I hold up my keys as if that makes what I just said a fact, and as soon as I press the unlock button on the fob Blackie puts his foot on the driver’s door, keeping me from opening it.

“Show me your mark.” It’s as if his words should make sense to me. The minute I stepped foot in this Farmers’ Market, nothing made sense. Everything everyone has said is a replaying as a jumbled mess in my head.

Potion no work on rejected mate.

I don’t sell to your kind, now go! - You are selling to her.

Submit!

So, your name is Alpha? - How hard did he hit you, baby?

Where is your mate?

Show me your mark.

‘Trina?’

‘Sorry, Breelynn, I can’t shift; I am fading. I am not okay, Bree.’

Blackie removes his foot from my door, and I foolishly think he is doing it to let me leave. Instead, he crowds me again, the tips of his fingers gently tickling the skin of my arms, and as much as he scares me, the gentle caresses feel good. It’s like my body is purposefully betraying me today. Still staring into each other's eyes, he leans down as if he is going to kiss me. Trying to keep a hold of my senses, I turn my head to the left. I feel his breath on my exposed neck, right by my collarbone. The sensation is almost more than I can handle. I never realized I was so sensitive there until now.

“If he was your mate,” his lips brushed against the skin as he talked, making my skin pebble. My hands instinctively grab his upper arms to keep me from falling as my knees go weak, “his mark would be right here, but I don’t see a mark.”

“I don’t…ummm,” words are escaping me, I can’t form a sentence none-the-less a complete a thought, “…what…kind of…,” he is slowly dragging his soft lips over my skin and then his scratchy stubble trailing the area afterward creating a sensory overload that has me entranced.

His lips slowly make their way up to my ear. First, the tip of his nose traces the shell providing additional goosebumps on the ones he has already given me. Then his lips follow the same path, my knees buckle, and I feel his arm quickly wrap around my waist, holding me up.

Whispering in my ear, “I know he isn’t your mate, Piccola Lupa; there is no need to continue to lie to me.”

He pulls away abruptly, “But don’t ever lie to me again,” The words, harsh and demanding, manage to break the spell he just had over me. My hands fall to my side as my body falls back to my car. Trying to get my bearings settled, I noticed something black and rectangular from one of the twins’ hands. It makes a strange buzzing sound; there is a flash of light, then agonizing pain, and everything goes black.