I didn't sleep well. I had grown too used to having my mate beside me every night for the past month to feel comfortable without him.

Every time I managed to shut my eyes nightmares would haunt me. I knew that my father would come in the morning and this time I wouldn't have my mother, Brendan or Phil to save me.

I had just finished getting dressed when I heard the lock release and my father stormed in the room, Gary carefully shutting the door behind them. My father strode straight to me and back handed me across the face, hard. I was thrown to the floor from the force.

"How dare you, you little whore!"

I held my face tenderly in my hand and glared up at him.

"He's my mate and he sure as hell has treated me with more affection and love than you have!" I bit back at him.

I knew I shouldn't provoke him, but I couldn't help it. No matter how much I hated him, I had his blood running through my veins and I was just as quick to temper as he was.

"Your mate!" He scoffed and spat on the floor beside me. "What good has a mate ever done anyone?"

I pulled myself off of the floor and stood facing him dead on.

"Just because Jackson's mother wasn't your mate doesn't mean-"

I was cut off by another jaw shattering slap. Tears welled in my eyes from the force. I heard a crack in my head. In an hour my whole face would be swollen and blue.

"Don't you dare speak of her." He growled viciously. "You know nothing!"

I bit my tongue and looked away from him. Provoking him any further wouldn't do me any good and I just wanted to crawl back into bed and dream that Jackson was there with me.

My father clenched his hand into a fist and I winced. Instead of drawing it back to strike me with it, he clenched and unclenched it repeatedly as silence ensued.

"To ensure that you no longer have any ties with the Merphate Pack, you are hereby officially promised to be mated and married to Brendan."

I looked up quickly only for my vision to go out of focus. My father walked out the door followed by Gary. The door slammed shut and locked. My eyes swam and it was a miracle I was even able to climb into bed. My whole face throbbed painfully and I couldn't bear to move my jaw even a centimetre.

I was already mated. Mating with Brendan would kill me without a doubt. You don't just re-mate. You can't. My father had just signed my death warrant. I rubbed my eyes, feeling strangely tired and disoriented. The last thing I thought about before I fell asleep was Jackson.

------------------------

I didn't have any other visitors for a week. Like the last time I was held prisoner in my bedroom, meals were slipped to me during the day. Other than that, I had no contact with another soul – not even my father. I assumed he wanted to wait until my face was healed before anyone saw me. God forbid anyone see how the pack master treated his only child.

On the eighth day of my confinement, a letter was slipped under the door with one of my meals. My father had left me instructions. My mother was planning on visiting today to go over the plans for the wedding. If I let anything slip he wouldn't hesitate to attack the Merphate Pack immediately and without mercy.

I came here to protect my pack. Not to give my father further cause to destroy them without hesitation.

So, I jumped in the shower and made myself look presentable. My mother had been told that for the past week I had been meeting with psychiatrists to help me get through my traumatic experience. I rolled my eyes.

My mother came in with what appeared to be a mountain of bridal magazines and binders. She set them all down on my bed causing a massive indention in the mattress. She smiled timidly at me before climbing onto my bed and sitting cross-legged beside the stack.

"How are you doing, Rosemarie?"

"I've been better," I replied truthfully.

She got off of the bed and strode over towards me before enveloping me in a hug.

"I am so sorry all of this had to happen to you," she whispered to me. "I just wish that I could have protected you from it all."

Stunned, I returned the hug. I inhaled deeply, taking in my mother's comforting scent. She reminded me of chocolate cookies and teddy bears; she reminded me of simpler times.

"I love you, Mom. No matter what happens, I love you." I said.

She didn't know what was happening. She didn't have a clue and I didn't blame her or hold it against her. No, this whole mess rested solely on the shoulders of my father.

"Oh, and I love you too sweetheart," Mom said and pulled back. "Now, let's get our minds off of all of this stuff and plan your wedding! I am so glad you decided to marry within the pack, but a little disappointed you didn't wait a little longer to try and find your true mate."

She led me towards the bed and we both sat down across from each other. She had a notepad and a pen steadfastly on her lap as she opened the first magazine.

"Feel free to tell me anything that you like. I am just here to take notes and offer suggestions today. Don't feel pressured to decide on anything just yet."

I nodded and reached for a magazine myself. I opened it up and flipped through the pages lazily, not really seeing any of the images in front of me. The silence was filled only with the turning and rustling of the pages and it was driving me mad.

"How did you know Dad was the one for you, Mom?" I asked.

I looked up from the magazine, happy to be torn away from the pages of models dressed as brides. My mother was biting her bottom lip in a sure sign of nervousness.

In all honesty, after Jackson had told me what happened between our parents I had wondered how my Mom had come to be mated with my father.

"Rosemarie..." She started and paused. She turned to my bar-covered windows as if trying to will herself anywhere else. "I guess we never did explain our marriage to you. I mean, you were a child. Why would we have to?"

"What do you mean, Mom?"

She turned to look at me again.

"Your father and I aren't mates, Rosemarie. Well, not true mates."

As a child I had always just assumed they were. But, then again, it wasn't uncommon for people not to find their mates. Everyone gets lonely sometimes and it wasn't uncommon to marry or mate another non-mated person. It is known to cause problems if their true mate ends up coming along eventually but it never did stop anyone.

"I had a mate," my mother explained further. "He died when we were both young, still teenagers really. It was... hard. It was really hard and I didn't think I was going to survive it."

I stared at my mother in shock. How could she have survived that?

If something ever happened to Jackson, I'd.... I couldn't even think about it. I would be shattered. I wouldn't survive it. I couldn't.

"Oh, Mom."

I sobbed and pushed the magazines away and hugged her tightly. She moved her hand behind my back to her face, undoubtedly wiping away a few stray tears.

"Your father came along a few years later and managed to pull me out of that dark place. He saved my life. Even though he isn't my true mate, Rosemarie, doesn't mean I don't love him. I guess it is like you and Brendan. You don't necessarily need to be mates to find love."

"What about Dad's mate?"

"He told me that she died long ago too," she said sadly.

I tried my best not to snort. If he still thought that Jackson's mother was his mate then he was completely delusional.

My mother shook her head sadly, clearing the thoughts from her head.

"But on a much happier note, you're getting married Rosemarie." She smiled warmly. "I am just so happy I get to be part of such a big day in your life. I can't believe you are old enough to be getting married!"

I looked down guiltily. My mother would be so disappointed if she found out that she didn't have any part in my real big day. Really, no one had except for Jackson and a friendly hotel owner.

That night I lay in bed for hours trying to think of a way out of my current situation. When the application for the marriage license for Brendan and I gets submitted and they find out that I am already married the shit is really going to hit the fan. I briefly wondered if Brendan would even want to mate me after that. Regardless, I am sure my father would probably find another way to get rid of me.

I spent a lot of time thinking about Jackson. What he was doing, how he was feeling and everything in between. I knew it probably broke his heart into tiny pieces when I left, a perfect mirror of my own heart. I wondered if he was doing as I had asked and not come for me. I prayed to the Goddess that he listened to me.

I doubted he would give up on me that easily. Part of me even hoped that he was on his way right now to get me. However, a larger and more selfless part of me hoped that he had forgotten about me and moved on with his pack.

But somehow, I knew that Jackson would stop at nothing to get me back and it scared the crap out of me.

--------------------------------------

I had been sure I hadn't said anything to my mother during the wedding planning process to convince her I was anything but at least a willing participant. Then why, I wondered, would my father have poisoned my breakfast?

I sat at the toilet as I finished emptying the contents of my stomach into the porcelain bowl. I knew that the food had smelled funny, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. I would be more careful the next time I put something in my mouth delivered at the hands of his loyalists.

I brushed my teeth thoroughly, ridding myself of the putrid, acidic taste left in my mouth.

I still felt nauseous and slightly dizzy after my shower. I stumbled into my bedroom and lay down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling in a strange daze.

My mother had come in later that day, but seeing as I was feeling a little ill she left me to myself. She had hot soup sent up after she had left. I didn't touch it. It smelled funny again and I refused to put anymore unknown toxins into my body.

I briefly wondered if my father had found out that I am already married.

"The kitchen staff told me that you are hardly eating anything recently. Honey, what's wrong?" My mother asked the next week.

I knew something had been up when she came into my room without an assortment of wedding paraphernalia. But what could I possibly say? Sorry Mom, but Dad is trying to kill me off via slow and torturous poison?

Yeah, I am sure that would go over well. She would probably think I was insane.

"I'm not sure. I'm just not feeling all that well," I said weakly and hoped that it passed as earnest.

She eyed me warily. I knew she didn't believe me but it was better than the alternative.

"Well, maybe it is because it's almost your time of the month? Do you need me to pick you up anything or are you good?"

My eyebrows furrowed. With everything that was happening I had completely forgotten about my period.

"I – I'm not sure."

"Okay, well, when was your last period? That way we can figure it out pretty easily."

I took a deep breath and started counted backwards with my fingers. When was my last period again? I had to have had one last month while I was with Jackson. I thought back and my eyes widened.

I didn't have a period last month.

The last time I had a period was the month before that – before Jackson and I had become intimate. I thought back. We had used protection, hadn't we? Did we? Most of the time, I remember. But we were so wrapped up in each other I was sure there were probably times when we forgot.

Oh sweet Jesus.

"When was your last period, Rose?" My mother asked again with her voice a bit higher. She used the nickname she had always used to call me by when I was little. She saw the worried look on my face.

I opened and shut my mouth like a fish. I couldn't think. I couldn't formulate words, let alone a convincing lie.

"It was in November."

My mother dropped her face into her hands and stayed that way for longer than I cared to think.

"Mom?" I whispered.

She took a deep breath in and out and then removed her hands from her face. Her face a mask of fear and determinacy.

"Before we start thinking anything Rose, do I have cause to go and buy you a pregnancy test?" She asked.

I nodded. I never told my mother I was sexually active, but then again I never was until I had run off to be with Jackson.

"Oh, Lord," she whispered and pulled me into a hug. "I'll be right back sweetie. Try not to get too freaked out. Periods are known to get out of whack after traumatic experiences."

She didn't seem too convincing while she pulled back from me. Her hands were shaking as she made to move from the room.

"Mom," I said, getting her attention. "Please don't mention anything to Daddy. At least, not yet."

She nodded and left the room. I grabbed onto the foot of my bed to steady myself. I felt faint.

The locks on the door slid into place, breaking the silence and reminding me where I was.

Oh God.

I couldn't be pregnant. It would change everything. I couldn't stay locked up in this place with Jackson's child. Hell, I am sure that my father would do everything in his power to make sure I didn't have this child.

Or if I did have the child here, what would he do with it?

I could sacrifice myself easily. My child... I couldn't do that.

I remembered the nausea, the strange smell of food, and the few mornings I had spent at the toilet on the bathroom floor. I closed my eyes and silently prayed that it wasn't true. I didn't have the luxury of worrying about a baby with the present circumstances.

What would I tell my mother?

My mother had returned sooner than I had expected. She passed me a bag with five different tests inside.

"I drove into the city so that it wouldn't get around. I probably broke every speed limit on the way too," my mother explained to me and passed me a large glass of water.

I accepted the water and downed it as fast as I could. It didn't take long before I was practically running to the bathroom with the bag in my hand.

Ten minutes later I was standing in the bathroom staring at all of sticks laying on the bathroom counter. Every single one having a different sign on them, but all of them meaning the same thing. My eyes blearily watched them all as they filled with tears.

My mother knocked on the door gently before opening it and stepping into the bathroom.

"Rose?"

"Mom, I'm pregnant."

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