The Alpha's Punishment (3 page)

BOOK: The Alpha's Punishment
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Ben hadn’t moved. He stood deathly still. “Why lie?”

More tears spilled down her cheeks. “I just—” Her shoulders sagged. “The first time you brought it up, I wasn’t really thinking straight and after that… I don’t know. I was a coward, I guess. I was afraid.”

He took a step—not toward her, but backwards. “You were afraid of me?” His voice was so quiet, so devoid of emotion, like the blankness on his face, that it frightened her.

“Ben—” She stopped. What else was there to say? She had no excuse, no explanation for a deceit she’d allowed to go on for far too long for him to forgive. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He turned away, peeling off his shirt as he walked away. Which meant he was going to shift. She stood in the bathroom door, watching as he shed his pants in the hallway and transformed with liquid grace into an enormous black wolf.

“Ben,” she called out, inanely.

He didn’t turn to look back before he nosed out the dog door, disappearing.

The house had never felt so hollow.

Chapter Two

 

 

Ben couldn’t believe it. He loped off, up into the foothills, his mind and body numb. They had purposely rented a house near the wilderness so he could roam at will in wolf form, and he ran up the steep side of a mountain face now, wanting to run forever.

Ashley had lied to him. She’d betrayed his trust. But even worse, it had been because she was afraid to tell him the truth. That fact had hit him like a fist in the gut. What kind of mate was he if his female couldn’t even talk to him about the things that were important to her?

Because he’d never witnessed an ounce of cowardice in Ashley. Even as a human, she had alpha female written all over her—confident, whip-smart, and a social genius. She could wrap anyone around her finger. She’d dared joke with him on her interview, even though she’d been nervous. And she’d kept opening her heart to him, when he’d repeatedly shut her down.

So to hear she feared him meant she hadn’t forgiven him or forgotten the way he’d marked her. It meant they didn’t have any level of trust between them.

Images of his mother, cowering from his father’s wrath, flashed before his eyes. He ran faster, over the rocky terrain, the cold February wind blowing through his fur. He’d always feared he’d become his father. It was why he hadn’t wanted to lead his brother’s pack, and hadn’t looked for a mate. But you can’t escape your parentage, it seemed.

The loving, trusting relationship his brother so easily modeled with his wife and he’d foolishly thought he might find with Ashley was not for wolves like him. The gray day turned colder, the higher he climbed. Time and distance fell away and he reached the tree line, where snow still covered the ground. Fresh snow began to fall.

He stopped, turning in a circle to scent the air. He smelled elk, but was in no mood to hunt. Sitting, he lifted his nose to the sky and howled, a long, mournful howl.

 

* * *

 

Only a toothbrush would get out the dirt between the grout lines of the shower. Ashley pushed her sleeves up and returned to her position on her hands and knees in the empty bathtub, scrubbing at the tiles. She’d attacked the house, cleaning it from top to bottom, as if that somehow might make things right with Ben. It was now pushing six o’clock and he hadn’t returned. Her stomach had clenched like a fist.

When she finished cleaning, she grilled three steaks and made a Greek salad and herbed quinoa.

Still he didn’t come home. The clock read half past eight. Night had come and snowflakes had begun to fall. Surely the cold didn’t bother him. But even so, was it a sign of how upset he was that he didn’t return, despite the dark and cold?

Unable to eat, she dished the food onto plates, covered them with plastic wrap and put them in the refrigerator. The house didn’t feel like hers anymore. She tiptoed around it, like she didn’t belong, every creak of the wood floors making her jump. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she sat down and turned on the television, flipping through the channels. She found an old Clint Eastwood movie and watched it until her eyelids began to droop.

Maybe she should just go to bed. But would he return soon? Or had he gone elsewhere for the night? Was this the end for them? Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back, heading to their bedroom to try to sleep.

She woke at two a.m. to find the space beside her in the bed still empty. A sense of dread filled her chest as she climbed out of bed to check the house. She stopped in the living room, finding Ben’s sleeping form sprawled on the couch. He was naked, as if he’d just shifted back. The chiseled muscles of his powerful chest and arms were exposed, with a light blanket tossed over his waist.

They weren’t sleeping together?

She willed herself to exhale, but couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Did this mean things were over between them? Her nose burned as tears crowded up into her throat. She crept to the side of the couch and knelt down beside Ben’s face, tears spilling down her cheeks.

His eyes blinked open and he sat up. “Ashley,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Go to sleep.”

“I can’t,” she said. She remembered he’d told her once that the smell of her tears would bring him to his knees. She thought she saw pain in his eyes, but in the darkness, it was hard to tell. “Can we talk?” she croaked.

He sighed. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Will you come to bed?”

“No,” he said heavily. “I don’t think so.”

“Then I’m staying here,” she said, brushing the tears with the back of her hand.

“No,” he said, his voice hardening. “Go back to bed. Now.”

She shook her head.

He made a sound of irritation and reached for her, freezing when she flinched. “You’re afraid of me,” he said hollowly.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure how to answer. Had she flinched because she was scared? No, not really. Rationally, she wasn’t afraid of Ben, but his dominance did have an effect on her, making her instincts for self-preservation kick in, just as seeing him in wolf form always made her gulp.

“That’s why you felt you had to lie to me.”

She shook her head. “I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you at first. And then, once the lie was out, I was afraid to confess the truth because I knew you’d be mad—rightfully so.”

“Did you think I’d force you into parenting? That you don’t have a say in the matter?”

“No… no. But you seemed so excited. And I—”

He waited when she trailed off.

“My career is just getting started. I love working for you and I’m just not willing to give that up yet.”

“This is the discussion we should have had five months ago.”

She dropped her head and stared at the outline of her hands in the dark. “I know.”

“I wouldn’t have pushed you,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice. “I thought you wanted this.”

“I do,” she protested. “Just maybe not right this second. We’re not even married yet.” She knew the institution of marriage didn’t matter to shifters the way it did to humans, but they had agreed to have a long engagement to give her and her family time to adjust to the suddenness of their relationship. In Ben’s world, he’d marked her and she belonged to him, period. She had accepted that, but still wanted time to get used to the idea.

“I’ll stop taking the pill. I was going to throw them out today, when you caught me.”

He made an impatient gesture. “You don’t have to. I don’t care about that. You think pups are more important to me than your happiness?”

Shame made her face grow hot and her eyes wet again. “I’m sorry.”

He said nothing.

“Are you going to punish me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Go to bed, Ashley,” he said, sounding tired.

“Not without you.”

He reached for her again and this time she held still, not surprised to find his touch gentle, despite the stony lines of his face. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where he tried to deposit her on the bed. She clung to his neck, though, refusing to let go.

He growled and she nearly let go, but rallied her courage to prove she wasn’t afraid of him. He dropped to the bed with her and held her down, delivering several sharp smacks to her pajama-clad backside.

She lay perfectly still for them, holding her breath. A spanking really would clear the air between them. He’d given her a serious spanking once before, and while it had hurt and she hadn’t enjoyed it, it had brought them closer.

He didn’t continue to spank her though, nor did he leave. He settled beside her on his back, his fingers knit behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.

She would take what she could. Curling against his body, she tucked her face against his side and closed her eyes, praying he’d find it in his heart to forgive her.

 

* * *

 

Ashley radiated anxiety. It sent his shifter instincts haywire to feel his mate’s stress, and yet he couldn’t manage to change his own emotions, which largely seemed dead. He’d returned to the way he’d been before he met her—the ‘Stone man’ who lacked emotion, fired people at will, and never smiled. He took her hand in the elevator, making an attempt to soothe her.

She looked up at him with her big blue eyes, the pleading quality twisting his heart. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open for other employees to get on. Ashley moved to pull her hand away, but he held it fast, tugging her slightly behind him to hide their clasp. He did not release her until they reached the top floor and they parted without speaking. He’d never been a man of many words, but even to him, the silence seemed strange. The gulf between just seemed to grow with each passing moment.

He wasn’t angry. Betrayed, yes, and he felt like an idiot for the months he’d thought they were trying to conceive a child while she’d been taking the pill. The lack of trust between them devastated him. He wasn’t the type to trust or love easily, but when he’d taken Ashley as his mate, he’d thought he’d turned a corner. Now, he could practically feel his old walls re-erecting themselves around his heart.

Worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about Ashley’s fear of him. Maybe mating with a human couldn’t work. The difference in their physical abilities would always separate them. Shifters have a pack order. Dominance is established and maintained with physical expressions. Males resolve problems with other males with a fight. They resolve problems with a female by spanking. Ashley hadn’t minded it—hell, she loved it when he flexed his authority, but even so, she must worry he’d lose control as he had when he’d marked her, causing her real injury and harm.

He didn’t hear from her until lunchtime, when she tapped on his door and entered. Usually her smile and her presence brightened his days. Today, she looked diminished, almost shy—which didn’t fit her outgoing personality. He hated seeing her that way.

“Do you want to get lunch? Or, um, do you want me to get you something?”

He didn’t want to go to lunch with her. Just seeing her pained him. “Bring me a sandwich,” he said, not meaning to sound so curt.

She ducked her head and nodded, leaving without a word.

Damn. Why did he have such a talent at making things worse?

She brought him the sandwich, and he ate alone at his desk. He poured himself into financial reports for the rest of the day, not surfacing until six o’clock, when he closed up his office and found Ashley slumped in her chair, staring at her computer screen.

“You ready?” he asked.

She looked disappointed, as if she’d hoped he would say something else. But what was there to say?

They walked in silence to the elevator. Once inside, he put an arm around her and pulled her to his side, where she melted against him. He bent to kiss the top of her head.

She lifted her eyes. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, but they both knew it was a lie.

At home, she went to the kitchen and began to reheat the dinner she’d made for them the night before. He took off his jacket and tie and unbuttoned his shirt at the collar. From the kitchen, he smelled steak, but also the salty smell of Ashley’s tears.

Nothing subdues a shifter more than the scent of his mate’s anguish. Damn. He walked into the kitchen to find Ashley facing the stove, her shoulders hunched and tears running down her face.

“Hey,” he said softly, turning her around. “Enough.” He wiped the tears from her face. “That’s not helping anything.”

“What will?” she asked, her voice rising to the pitch of desperation. “Because I can’t stand this living with a stranger thing we have going at the moment. Why won’t you just yell at me? Or punish me? Aren’t you the alpha around here?” She gave him an ineffectual shove, her face screwed up into a little ball of fury.

“Enough,” he said, lacing his voice with the hard edge of authority.

“Is it?” She slapped his chest with the palm of her hand.

Even knowing she meant to goad him into it, he responded instinctively, as any dominant wolf did when challenged, catching her wrist and spinning her around to pin it behind her back. He delivered the first swat before he had a chance to think.

He stopped, inhaling deeply. He didn’t want this. If she feared him, spanking her didn’t help. But then she’d practically begged him for it. Maybe she needed it, to assuage her guilt. She certainly wasn’t fighting him now, standing perfectly still, her head bent forward so her thick hair curtained her face.

He released her and turned her to face the living room. “Take off your clothes and kneel in the corner over there,” he said, pointing to the one near the couch.

She moved immediately, not meeting his eye, her head still bowed submissively.

He remained where he was, conflicted. It was too late to change his mind, of course. But what if punishing her only made things worse between them? He shut off the oven, leaving the steaks inside to stay warm.

When he turned, Ashley had taken her position. He caught his breath at the sight—her long reddish-brown hair falling down her back, the flare of her hips and, of course, her perfect ass, settled between her heels where she knelt. His cock forgot his reluctance to punish her, pressing eagerly against his trousers.

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