His Inescapable Mate novel Chapter 15

Vincent continued walking, pulling me all the way to his house. It was really embarrassing! There were people and werewolves outside their homes who would see me getting yanked by an angry wolf. And no one did anything! All the werewolves acted as if this was the right thing, giving me a dirty look while looking at Vincent with admiration. All the humans would look at me with pity or go out of their way to look at something else, ignoring me and Vincent altogether.

Eventually we reached his house and I was ushered inside. Vincent slammed the door shut and even locked it. He then turned to me, the pissed off expression still dominant.

"Now Nora," he growled. He stopped and cleared his throat, followed by a few deep breaths. Then in a controlled voice continued, "I noticed that you aren't warming up to me like what most mates do. So tell me: what can I do to make you happy with me?"

Let me go.

I know I couldn't say that. Ever. There were urban legends that were spread among the humans. The main one centered on this girl named Lacey who lived in a territory in what used to be known as British Columbia. Lacey was a human who was chosen to be the mate of a regular-ranked werewolf. One day Lacey told her werewolf mate that she hated him, and he attacked her. Legend has it that he broke her legs so that she couldn't run away from him. And every time they heal, he breaks them again. But, God willing, that's just a horror story my mom told me to stay away from the werewolves. Why couldn't I have just been home-schooled? Then this whole predicament could have been avoided! Anyway, back to why Lacey is pertinent: I don't want to wind up like her; hence I need to at least behave civilly towards Vincent.

"I just need time," I muttered, looking down at my feet.

I heard Vincent sigh. "You hungry?"

I looked up at him, shrugging again.

Vincent smiled. "I got you mushroom pizza. Your friend Jessie told me it was your favorite food." He turned to walk to what I suppose was the kitchen.

I couldn't believe that Jessie was talking to this creepy werewolf! And worst of all telling him stuff about me! I huffed and went into the living room to sit down on the couch. Vincent's house was rather dull, to tell the truth. It was two-story, had white walls, and all the furniture was either black or white. There was nothing remarkable about it at all, which was odd. I would have figured that a werewolf's house would have piles of dead bodies all over the floor or be like a cave. Instead I got stuck with the contemporary werewolf.

Me and Vincent sat watching TV for a couple hours. There was nothing good on at all. Vincent put on some sitcom where the main characters were played by werewolf actors. The jokes were centered on werewolf culture, so I didn't really understand it when Vincent burst out laughing.

When the sun went down and it was close to eleven, Vincent turned off the TV and let out a big yawn. "I think it's time for bed, Mate," he announced. He stood up and waited there. I didn't move and then Vincent rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.

I was led up the stairs and through the dark hall, not being able to see a thing in the darkness. I was blindly led by Vincent into a room and was soon assaulted with a flash of light from the light bulb.

Vincent's bedroom was small. He had a queen sized bed in the center and that was it. There was no more furniture, unless I counted the few boxes in the corner of the room that contained my clothes. Vincent let go of my hand and walked over to the closet doors, throwing them open. Inside the closet was his dresser, which he pulled open, grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms that were black.