Wolf Bound (Fated) By Jenival Writes

Chapter 16

Amber almost melted into a puddle as Callum took her hands in his, his molten orbs gazing into hers with intensity. “No, don’t. You promised me the weekend, honey. I’m only taking what you’re willing to give me.” He paused and his lips lifted at the corners. “For now, anyway”

Butterflies erupted in the pit of her belly in addition to the wetness gathering between her legs. Lord! He knew just the right thing to say. But still, she was worried. Whether it was for him, or her parents, she wasn’t sure. “You’ll have to make them believe that before they’ll let me leave. If you don’t, George will shoot you.”

Amber inwardly grimaced when she heard her stepfather’s voice in her head, warning her potential suitors would be staring down the barrel of the gun he kept behind the front door. She’d thought he was joking until she’d entered high school and Joseph, their neighbor’s son who happened to be her study partner visited her house. Poor Joseph had pi ssed his pants. George had puffed his chest out with pride as Joseph rushed to his car and fled. And she’d been left standing on the porch embarra**ed and horrified.

Suffice it to say, she’d had to study Biology on her own that day. Although George later warmed up to the idea of Joseph- being her study partner because he was their neighbor, Joseph never forgot the incident

“Duly noted,” Callum replied and then moved back to his seat and put the car in gear. “I’ll be on my best behavior

The heavyweight in her gut built, making her queasy as he took the vehicle up the drive. Before the departure from Callum’s home, she’d convinced herself she was a grown woman making her own decisions. She’d felt good about it then- confident. She wasn’t a child anymore. Her parents, as much as she loved then, had interfered in her life for too long. It was time to take the reins and start living her life as she chose.

Sadly, a forty-minute drive had managed to chip away at her newfound sense of independence.

As she’d feared, the door opened when they pulled next to the house. Out came George, dressed in his usual jeans and work shirt, toting the very shotgun she’d warned Callum about. Despite the fifty years behind him, her stepfather still looked middle-aged. His broad shoulders were as intimidating as she’d always remembered, the stern look on his face daring anyone to f uck with him.

The door opened again and her stepmother appeared. While George Quinn put the fear of Go d into someone, his wife Greta had the exact opposite impact. Five years younger than her husband, she too looked gracefully youthful. Creta always had a welcoming smile on her face, and her temperament was much more easygoing.

Despite the firearm, Callum didn’t appear worried. He put the vehicle in park, killed the engine, and went for the handle to open the door. Instinct had her reaching out to stop him, fear and concern crashing into her. She jumped when she felt that strange part of her-a part of her from the night before that she’d nearly forgotten about rear its head. It wanted to protect the man seated beside her, to warn those who would dare threaten him of the wrath that would fall on their heads.

Callum’s eyes changed colors, becoming intense and radiant. He wrapped his fingers in the hair at her nape and gave the strands a harsh, almost painful tug. A humming energy extended from him to her, wrapping around her like a cocoon. The pr ickles of what seemed like an electric current were sharp, piercing her flesh.

“No, you don’t” he whispered, meeting her gaze. “Back down. Now.”

Abruptly, the rage inside her began to recede, and she frowned at what just happened, perplexed.

“What the hell was that?” she asked him.

His fingers slid from her hair, the pr ickly sensation vanishing as he shook his head. “Something we’ll talk about when we’re alone.” He opened his door and slid from the seat. “Let’s go meet your family. They are waiting”

Taking a deep breath, Amber opened her door before Callum made it around the car. After she’d climbed out and closed it behind her, she turned to face her stepfather. As she’d anticipated, he was pis sed. Fury radiated from him, his eyes narrowed, disapproval and disappointment etched on his face. Her shoulders slumped, guilt hitting her like a list to the stomach. She hated it when George was mad at her. That was why she always did everything in her power to avoid upsetting him

Chapter 16

Callum moved beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist

“Get away from him, Precious, George ordered, using the nickname he’d given her as a child as he lifted the gun. “Walk yourself up here and go inside.”

“George.” Greta whispered, standing behind her husband. “Calm down for a minute, love.”

“Don’t, Greta. Not right now,” George growled at his wife. Glancing over, he met Amber’s gaze. “His kind isn’t welcome here.”

Amber felt the muscles in Callum’s arm tense. She wanted to chance a glance to see what he might be thinking but thought better of it Before she could figure out what to say, Callum gave her a gentle nudge toward the house.

“Go inside, baby,” he said, his voice gruff.

“What?” She gasped, tearing her gaze away from her stepfather and peering up at the man who had evidently lost his mind.

“You need to trust me, honey” He took a step forward, the hand at her lower back gently ensuring she did the same. “Go inside for a moment, okay? Don’t worry, everything is gonna be alright.”

Callum gave her another nudge, making her take another couple of steps away from him. Greta quickly descended the stairs, taking it as her cur to get involved. When Amber was within reach, the older woman took her by the hand.

“Come inside, sweetheart. We’ll leave the men to sort out their issues.”

“But she started, whipping her head around to look at Callum. He’d folded his arms over his chest, his legs shoulder’s width apart. His gaze was locked with her stepfather’s.

“While you are inside, pack your things. Your stepfather and I need to talk. For a second, his eyes flicked to her. He gave her a comforting smile and winked. Tm not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are,” George snapped in response, his voice laced with hate. He pumped the shotgun, kicking things up a notch. “If you don’t want a bullet in your head, you’ll get the hell off my property.”

“Oh dear. Greta murmured.

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