Brand didn’t appear shocked or horrified by her admission. “I don’t blame you. Two people should have kids out of love, not duty.”

She relaxed as the tension drained. “I never want any deception between us. I’ve had to lie for years but I would never do that to you, Brand. I love you too much. I’d never deceive you that way but I had to do it with him.”

“He hated you?” Anger deepened his voice. “Why didn’t he set you free then? I’m guessing there was no bond formed? He could have just found a new mate without suffering emotionally.”

“He wanted to but his father refused to allow it. He wants to keep in his father’s good graces by obeying orders since he has younger brothers who could be chosen to take over the pride leadership instead when Percy steps down.”

Anger narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like him already. Was he at least good to you?”

She cautiously regarded him. “I don’t want you to get angry enough to go after him.”

“Son of a bitch,” he snarled. “Did he call you names? Was he mean? I know some shifters look down on half-breeds.” His hands fisted at his sides. “Did he ever hurt you?”

She hesitated. “You’re going to want me naked in that shower. That means you’ll see this.” She snagged her shirt and carefully removed it. It dropped to the floor and she lifted her arm.

Rage had him sprouting hair, his eyes darkened and his claws shot out of his fingertips. Charma held still, knowing it wasn’t directed at her. She still trembled. He moved slowly, though, his hand gentle as he avoided touching her with the sharp points of his nails. He held her upper arm and turned it slightly to examine the dark bruises—marks from fingers encircling her arm just above where he touched. He snarled and his gaze lifted.

“He did this to you?” His voice came out sounding gravelly, deep and harsh.

“Yes. It happened last night. We live in separate parts of the house and rarely see each other. He sought me out in my room. I didn’t want him touching me so I fought. I got away but he was pretty angry.” She tugged out of his hold and reached up to grip her hair, pulling the long curtain of it away. She slowly turned, grateful that she couldn’t see his face when she presented him with her back. “This is the last of it.”

The howl made her jump, the sound deafening inside the small bathroom, and every instinct urged her to flee. The smell of his rage nearly suffocated her as it filled the room. Charma held still, waited for him to calm. She lowered her head in sadness.

“I’m going to kill him,” Brand swore.

He breathed hard, nearly panted, and Charma turned her head enough to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Four bruises marred her back from where she’d been punched as she’d struggled to get away from Garrett. They actually appeared to be a lot better than they had when she’d dressed earlier that morning before she’d left the house. Her shifter genes allowed her to heal quicker than a normal human.

“Did he force you? Did that son of a bitch rape you? Did he allow other men to touch you? I want their names if that happened. I’ll track down every one of them. I’ll kill each one. I’ll―”

“Calm down,” she ordered.

She faced him. Any other werewolf looking that feral would have sent her bolting for her life. He’d totally lost his face—his nose pressed forward, lengthened, along with his jawbone and his fangs elongated. His eyes had shifted too, narrowed. Wolf eyes watched her.

Black hair covered his lower face and hid most of his sexy chest and arms. She took a step closer to him and brushed his soft pelt of fur with trembling hands. She pressed her face against him.

“No one else touched me, not even him. He hasn’t for years. I was smart enough to avoid him. He found other females to occupy his time when he believed I wasn’t able to conceive. I’m okay, Brand. I promise you that and he’s not worth it. Just hold me, okay?”

His arms wrapped around her and she stood there inside his embrace for a long time until warm skin returned and his breathing slowed. He kissed the top of her head before easing away. She wondered if he’d still want her, knowing she was emotionally damaged. Tenderness was reflected in his gaze when she braved looking up at him.

“You never need to fear anyone again and I would never abuse you.”

“I know.”

“I’d rather die,” he whispered.

“I know that too.”

“Okay. I’m still going to kill that son of a bitch but that’s another day.”

She didn’t protest. A part of her had always known if Brand ever found out about what Garrett had done to her, even if he’d moved on and mated another woman, he’d have paid her mate a visit to make the abuse stop. It was just the kind of wonderful person he was. When they’d watched the news he’d always grumbled that someone should take out violent jerks who picked on the weak.

“I need to calm down a bit.” He took a deep breath. “Shower here and I’ll use the bathroom down the hall. We’ll meet in my room in about fifteen minutes.” He fled before she could protest and closed the door behind him.

Charma watched him disappear and worry struck. Would he change his mind about wanting her? She wasn’t the same woman he’d once loved. She’d been mistreated by a mate and maybe he feared she’d take that out on him. Or worse, maybe he’d lost all respect for her because she’d allowed her life to become such a nightmare despite doing it for her family’s safety.

She turned with a heavy heart, staring at Brand’s shower. She knew he wanted her to wash off as much of the scents from her old life as possible. Using his shampoo, conditioner and soap wouldn’t completely rid her of Garrett’s mark but it would make her smell more familiar to Brand, more his.

Chapter Four

Brand stormed down the hallway and managed not to punch his fists through the walls. He saw red from the rage that pulsed through his entire body as if it were a living thing. He paused by the guest bath, took a deep breath and stepped inside to flip on the light. He managed not to slam the door behind him. He met his reflection in the mirror and winced at some of the hair he hadn’t been able to control when he’d returned to skin.

Charma had been abused, hit. She was sickly thin. Her clothes had hidden the sight of her rib bones. She appeared half starved. He closed his eyes, careful not to pierce his bottom lip with his fangs when he bit down to muffle another howl of rage. The urge to shred the male who’d forced her mating nearly drove him into hunt mode.