My plea

Jade

I stared up at the hulky man looming over me. Conan was a mountain of muscle and authority, his tall frame casting me in shadow. Golden eyes glinted from behind a black leather mask covering the lower half of his rugged face. Those piercing eyes were fixed on me now, hard and assessing.

I suppressed a shudder under that intense gaze. Of all the easygoing wolves in Alpha Bradley's pack, only Conan seemed to exude true menace. He was the enforcer, swift and merciless to any threat. Every instinct warned me to avoid him at all costs. Yet here I was, trapped and exposed.

"Well?" Conan's voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Explain yourself."

I scrambled desperately for some excuse, some logical reason for the suspicious messages he glimpsed on my phone screen. But under pressure, nothing remotely convincing came to mind.

After a tense silence, Conan crossed his massive arms. "Since you seem unwilling to explain, I have no choice but to report this to Alpha Bradley." He turned sharply, long strides carrying him swiftly toward the ornate pack house.

Panic lanced through me. No! If Conan told the Alpha about me on day one, my entire mission here would be ruined before it even began.

"Wait!" I blurted out. But Conan's pace didn't slow, his muscular form rapidly disappearing from view.

In desperation I lunged forward, managing to grab hold of his arm. "Please, hear me out!"

Immediately I realized my mistake. With lightning speed Conan spun around, effortlessly breaking my grip. Before I could react he seized my wrist in an iron fist.

"Ah!" I cried out at the painful pressure.

"Do not attempt to stop me, little spy," Conan growled. Ignoring my protests he proceeded to drag me forcibly up the front steps of the pack house.

I struggled in vain against his superior strength. "Let me explain!" I begged as I stumbled along. But Conan was immovable as stone.

Think, Jade! I berated myself. Pleading clearly wasn't working. I had to stop him another way before he ruined everything.

As we reached the grand double doors, I abruptly collapsed my full weight onto the ground. My dead stop finally forced Conan to halt.

"Owww!" I cried out loudly, clutching my ankle. "You've sprained it, you brute!"

In truth my ankle was fine, but faking injury seemed my only chance at escape. I blinked back fake tears, glaring accusingly at the tall beta.

Conan stared down at me, uncertainty flickering across his stoic features. His aggressive stance softened somewhat at my show of pain. After a moment's hesitation, he released my wrist and crouched down.

"Let me take a look," he rumbled in a gentler tone, reaching for my ankle.

I jerked away sharply. "Don't touch me! Haven't you done enough damage?"

Conan drew back, looking genuinely regretful. I sensed his protective instincts rising to the surface. If I played the victim convincingly enough, perhaps I could still turn this around.

"Please, just let me go home. I need to tend to my injury," I pleaded, letting real tears spill down my cheeks for effect.

But Conan slowly shook his head. "As beta, it is my duty to care for injured pack members. I will bring you to my home where I can properly treat your ankle."

Before I could argue, Conan scooped me up effortlessly in his muscular arms. I had to bite back an indignant yelp at being manhandled yet again.

"Very well," I conceded through gritted teeth, "but please be gentle." I decided compliance was my best option for now.

Conan carried me swiftly through the lamp-lit streets. I kept my face hidden against his broad chest, praying no one witnessed the humiliating sight of me being carted around like a helpless damsel. Fortunately the roads were empty at this late hour.

Soon we arrived at a modern condo on the edge of the pack lands. Conan typed in a security code and the front door swung open. He deposited me carefully on a sleek leather couch inside. I took in the elegant, open space and expensive furnishings with surprise.

"Let me grab some medical supplies." Conan disappeared down a hallway, leaving me a moment to assess my situation.

Okay, I was in his private residence now. If I could just convince Conan my ankle was fine, perhaps I could sneak away once his guard was down.

But the beta returned swiftly with an array of first aid materials. Kneeling before me, Conan examined my ankle with unexpected care. I maintained what I hoped was a convincing expression of pain.

"Just a mild sprain, it seems," he murmured after a moment. Taking a tensor bandage, Conan began wrapping my ankle with practiced efficiency. His large hands were surprisingly gentle.

"There. How does that feel?" He asked once finished.

I cautiously rotated my foot as if testing it. "Much better, thank you." I offered him a tentative smile. "That was very kind of you, especially after I accused you so harshly. You have a lovely home."

Some tension left Conan's shoulders at my conciliatory words. Perhaps he could still be reasoned with. "I find the open design peaceful," he remarked.

"Oh yes, so elegant and refined!" I gushed enthusiastically. As Conan gave me a tour of the modern living spaces, I kept up a stream of praise, hoping to relax his suspicions.

But as we circled back to the front room, his expression grew serious once more. "That's enough stalling. Tell me who you really are and why you're here."

I tensed, mind racing. I was out of diversions and excuses. Those penetrating golden eyes bored into me, waiting. I had to give him something to earn his trust and silence. But how much truth could I risk revealing?

"Please." I met his gaze beseechingly. "If I confide in you, do you swear not to tell Alpha Bradley?"

Conan considered me with a frown. "That depends on the nature of this...confession."

I worried my lip anxiously. It was a gamble, but I had to take the chance, for my children's sake. I took a deep breath and began my story.