“Run,” he growled in the shifter tongue.
We were running. Together. If he thought I was going to leave him, he was wrong.
The coyote on his back didn’t fall, but shook his head, tearing at Cypress’s shoulder.
I returned my focus to the ground ahead of me, just in time to see the coyote in human form standing right in front of us. He held a reed in his mouth.
Too late, I realized why.
His legs going limp, Cypress fell to the ground. The momentum kept him moving, and he skidded across the dirt. The coyote that had been on his back stood before me, while the man aimed his reed at me.
Wake up, Cypress, please.
“Shift,” the man said.
I looked once more to Cypress. I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t.
With no other option, I did as I was told.
The man approached. Chin up, I stood tall and hid behind a facade of confidence. The man circled around me slowly, an uncomfortable reminder that I was naked.
Nudity among shifters was normal, but being the only one without my clothes, I wasn’t only exposed, but vulnerable. Captured by hostile shifters, I didn’t need another reason to be vulnerable.
“Cooperate and you won’t be sedated,” the man said.
I nodded and shivered. Instead of covering myself, or showing any outward sign of my discomfort, I clenched my fists at my sides.
The man scooped my clothes from the net where I’d dropped them and threw them at me. I caught them, thankful for the small kindness.
He grabbed Cypress’s clothes and my bag as well. I wanted to ask for those, too, but with a look at his stern face, I decided it was better not to press my luck.
I dressed, flicking my attention from the man who seemed to be in charge to Cypress, whose unconscious body had returned to human form.
Wake up. Please.
The coyote in charge nodded toward Cypress, then looked to one of his animal companions. “Carry him.”
In a glow of white light two coyotes shifted back to human form and approached Cypress. I wanted to tell them not to touch him. I wanted to grab my bag from their leader’s grasp and beat them with it.
I didn’t.
Instead, I followed when the leader directed me to a small clearing. He pulled a vine, and two doors that I hadn’t noticed lifted from the ground.
He meant to throw me in a pit. He meant to throw Cypress in a pit.
“Wait, you don’t have to—”
The two coyote shifters carrying Cypress dropped him down into one of the holes.
I gasped, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes as I watched his body disappear over the edge.
The leader threw the end of a rope down the other pit. Then he looked at me and leveled his gaze. “Climb.”
Every instinct told me to run.
A tightness overtook my chest and clawed its way up my throat. I couldn’t outrun them if I tried. Even if I could, I wouldn’t leave Cypress.
A strange noise came out of my throat, and it sounded foreign to my ears. It was a cry, a plea, a roar.
I did what I was told, and lowered myself over the edge. It appeared to be three times my height down at least. I grabbed hold of the rope, sparing one last glance to where Cypress was, and then I climbed down.
As I shimmied down, the tears began to roll. At first only a trickle escaped, but that trickle quickly turned into a flood.
When my feet touched the ground, the rope was pulled away, and the hatch above me closed shut.
All of this was my fault. I should never have left home. I’d sealed not only my fate, but Cypress’s as well, all for a stupid fantasy.
In the pitch black, I could see nothing. I could hear nothing but the pounding of my heart, the heaves of my chest, and the sobs that I could no longer control.
Chapter Six
Cypress
Everything was black. A heavy fog filled my head, made more disorienting when I tried to move. The cold of the ground beneath me seeped through my skin, straight to the bone. I spread my fingers out against the hard-pressed soil and rolled to my back.
My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see a damned thing, not even the moon.
I blinked hard, not understanding. Why was it so dark? Where was I, and what had happened? I tried to think.
So late, outside of the village...the events of the night returned to me like a punch in the gut. And with those memories, clarity began to overtake the fog.
Laurel.
I sat up and took in my surroundings. The world around me wasn’t pitch black, but dark and lacking in detail. There was no moon, no trees, no anything. I reached out and put my hand on what appeared to be an earthen wall. What little light pierced this dirt cage came from above, through cracks along the edge of a hatch.
Okay, I was in a pit, but where was Laurel?
A soft sound reached my ears, movement on the other side of the dirt wall. As my head settled and the last of the tranquilizer wore off, I could make out breathing, growing louder and more panicked by the moment.
“Laurel?” I kept my voice soft, hoping that she could hear, praying that it was her and not someone else.
“Cypress? Are you—” She sniffled and began pounding against the barrier between us.
I put my hand against the wall, wishing I could see her, wishing I could touch her.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“I’m—” Her breaths were ragged. “I thought you died. I thought I’d gotten you killed.”
My chest ached at her pain. She needed to be held. I needed to hold her.
“Hey,” I said. “Everything is okay. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re going to get out of here.”
I walked the perimeter of my cage, and searched for a means to escape. My bare foot caught on something. I looked down and found my clothes scattered across the dirt floor.
I quickly dressed and continued my task.
The walls were too smooth to climb, the height too great to jump. I’d save her though, whatever it took. For now, all I could offer was my company.
I tried to think of something that I could say that would reassure, or at the very least, distract her. No idea what to say, I started talking.
“At the edge of the world, an invisible man hid among a blessed people.”
“Invisible.” Laurel exhaled slowly, but her heart still raced.
I leaned my hands against the wall.
“That’s right,” I said. “He walked among them, appalled by their affluence, by everything they took for granted. With time, he grew numb to the stark contrast of the life he knew and the one he observed. It grew muddled, gray.”
Laurel’s breathing evened out as she listened to my story. When I closed my eyes, I imagined her leaning against the same wall, pressing her hand to mine.
“Years passed, and the opulence became commonplace, their blessings mundane. He grew so numb that he stopped noticing,” I said. “He stopped noticing everything and everyone, except for a single woman.”
Gentle sounds carried from Laurel’s direction, like she was settling down on the other side of the wall.
“In a world of gray, she was a beacon of color,” I said. “Only she didn’t know it. She believed she was invisible.”
“But he knew better,” Laurel said on a breathy sigh. “Because he saw her. And she’d felt him there all along, a comforting presence that she couldn’t quite explain. A shadow she’d taken for granted.”
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t her fault. She just couldn’t see him.”
“Until she did.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wall. On the other side, I imagined Laurel doing the same.
“He laced his fingers in hers,” I said, “and pulled her against his chest.” I imagined holding her in my arms.
“With bated breath, she waited.” Laurel’s words took on a husky tone.
My cock strained against my pants, responding to the sound of her voice.
/> “Wanting nothing more than to taste her, he searched her gaze. He’d give her everything, no matter the cost. But he knew she held all of the power, and she could break him.”
“She lifted herself onto her toes and sealed her lips to his.”
The memory of her lips on mine shot the ghost of sensation across my skin. I could almost feel her breasts on my chest, and feel her heart race as she ran her fingers over my shoulders.
“He hoisted her up against the wall, and claimed her mouth with a bruising kiss,” I said. “She moaned into him, and they both let go of everything but the moment.”
“She threaded her fingers through his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist. He tasted like mint, and man, and happiness.”
A smile overtook my face.
Laurel continued, “She reached down to his love python—”
Her words were cut short, and through the silence, a shiver crossed up my spine. Footsteps. Someone was coming.
Chapter Seven
Laurel
The hatch above opened, letting in a wash of cold air and moonlight. I lifted a hand to break up the brightness as my eyes strained to adjust.
A flash of something crossed my field of vision. I squinted and lowered my hand, waiting to see who had come for me. It couldn’t be Cypress, so I tried not to let myself hope. The branches in the sky above came into focus, as did the rope that dangled down into the pit. I reached for that lifeline and grabbed hold with both hands. No matter who was up there, I had to get out of this pit.
Something coiled around my waist. I looked down. Too late, I realized it was the rope. Someone had thrown a lasso around me.
Sharp and hard, the loop tightened around my waist and I lurched forward, slamming into the wall. Desperate to free myself, I tried to dig my fingers between the rope and my stomach, but couldn’t find purchase.
The cord jolted again, lifting me awkwardly into the air.
“Let...me...go.” My body twisted and spun as I clawed at the binding and tried to catch my feet on the wall. It was no use.
“Laurel?” Cypress’s voice was no longer laced with longing, but panic.
I imagined I’d feel the same if I was him. I did feel the same. My hands were clammy, and my fingers fumbled. Everything hurt, like my skin was too tight and I could hardly breathe.
“I’m okay,” I said, knowing he’d hear my words as lies. “It’s going to be okay. It has to, right?”
“What are you doing to her?” he shouted. “Leave her be.”
As I reached the ground, my instinct was to fight. Fight, then run.
I looked around. There were three men closing in around me. They were all far bigger than me, and much stronger. What chance would I have against three, especially while I was bound?
I stilled and let them pull me to my feet.
Cypress growled and paced and tore at the walls in the other pit. I could hear his frustration, smell his fear and his anger.
“In the stories, everything works out in the end.” My lip quivered. “So ours will, too.”
A dark bag was thrown over my head, and someone grabbed my shoulder, roughly guiding me away.
“Laurel!” Cypress’s voice grew rougher, more enraged. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill all of you. I swear it.”
My gut twisted, and I tried to turn back. “Cy—”
“Let’s go.” Someone righted my shoulders and pushed a hand against my back.
My eyes burned. I didn’t want to cry.
With the bag over my head, I couldn’t even look back. If I couldn’t see, I wouldn’t know where I was going. I wouldn’t know how to get back to Cypress, and there was no way I could let that happen.
Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I tried my best to sound reasonable. “If you don’t let me see, I could fall.”
A few muffled words were exchanged between the coyotes. I tried to make out what they were saying, but it was hard to hear with my pulse pounding in my ears.
“Fine,” one of them said.
A glimmer of hope sparked in my chest. Finally, something was going right.
One of the coyotes reached his arms around me and lifted me up into the air, and over their shoulder, tamping out that spark.
Blood rushed to my head as I dangled like a sack of coulu fruit. I didn’t fight. There was no point in trying, not when I was bound and outnumbered. But I wasn’t giving up. I was biding my time.
Even in my own head, it sounded like a false promise.
The shoulder pressing into my gut knocked the air from my chest with every step the coyote shifter took. I inhaled sharply, again and again, as black dots invaded my vision. It wasn’t like I could see with the bag on my head anyway.
Think. Think. I need a plan.
“Where are you taking me?” My voice was probably muffled by the bag, but they’d still know what I was saying.
No one answered. But they did stop walking.
I turned my head, hoping to catch some noise, a voice, something.
In a quick motion, I was dropped to my feet and spun around. The bag was pulled off.
With my arms still pinned to my sides by rope, I had to shake my head to try to clear the hair from my face. I was in the forest still, so that was a good sign. We hadn’t gone far, which meant it’d be easier to find my way back to Cypress.
“Wolf.” A dark voice startled me.
I turned my head slowly, like a rabbit afraid to be seen. My eyes were wide and unblinking, my heart hammering against my ribs. Maybe he means a different wolf.
Then I saw him. Herrik, Alpha of Coyotes was here. Worse, he approached.
Auburn hair with all the height, strength, and presence of command, Herrik looked much like my Cypress. But where Cypress’s eyes were kind, Herrik’s were harsh and unforgiving.
There was something about him that made every one of my hairs stand on end. I couldn’t say what exactly it was, but I’d felt it when I’d seen him in Lycaon Village for a meeting with my alpha. It was worse now, a twisted, unsettling sensation I couldn’t shake.
“You’re spying on me.” He leaned in close and inhaled as if he found the truth in my scent.
The truth was that I was terrified, nothing more.
“I’m not,” I said. “I swear.”
“Wolves don’t stray so far from their den after the sun goes down.” He circled me slowly.
Whichever of his minions held me with his hand clamped on my shoulder squeezed a little harder. I sucked in a sharp breath as Herrik reached the edge of my view.
“That’s generally true,” I said. “We’re not supposed to be out this late, but—”
“You’ve crossed into my territory, wolf. You don’t belong here.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I got lost and—”
Herrik circled back around to where I could see him. What I thought would be reassuring wasn’t, because his scowl had deepened. He didn’t believe me. Why wouldn’t he believe me?
“And—” What was I saying? “I was looking for a dragon, for Celedon, Guardian of Land. I swear it’s the truth. You can feel it, right? Hear it in my voice?” My voice that was rising higher and breathier as I grew more and more frightened.
Herrik dropped his brows so low I almost missed his left eye twitch.
See the truth. Please.
He flattened his lips into a line, and cocked his head to the side. “The serpent’s tongue need not lie to sew discord.”
“What?”
With a wave of his hand and the tick of his jaw, Herrik steeled his stance. “Return her to the pits.”
“No, please.” I reached out to beg him to reconsider. I needed more time, I needed—
The rope holding me pulled hard against my waist, jolting me back. My view of the world was stolen as the bag was slipped back over my head.
I’d failed. The pit in my stomach sank into a crater. Whatever they planned to do with us next, it couldn’t be good.
Chapter Eight
<
br /> Cypress
The ledge was too far to reach. That hadn’t stopped me from trying, over and over again.
Not long after Laurel was taken, in the height of my furious attempt to claw my way to the surface, one of the coyote shifters above had bashed me in the head with a wooden pole.
After my head stopped ringing, I searched for other options. I couldn’t climb out and I couldn’t dig through to Laurel’s pit. But I could dig a bit at the floor.
Quiet so as not to incite another head trauma, I dug the toe of my shoe into the dirt. It was the same movement, in the same location, as I’d kicked for the past few minutes. Finally, the rock loosened enough that it rolled along the sole of my shoe.
I plucked the dislodged stone from the ground and safely deposited it into my pocket with the others.
Four small rocks. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough.
A branch snapped from somewhere in the forest. I held my breath and listened. Footsteps approached.
Laurel, please come back. Please be okay.
I backed to the wall to see as far as I could. It wasn’t much. Waiting felt like an eternity. I remained still and watched.
Finally, I caught a glimpse of those who approached.
Two men stepped into view. They wore their hair short, and their clothes a dark green to blend in with the forest, as did the coyote shifters we’d encountered before. By scent, I knew they were the same shifters who had captured us in their net.
One of them pulled a rope, and a woman with her face hidden in a black hood stumbled forward. No question, she was Laurel. My chest clenched, and I balled my fists around the rocks in my pocket.
Not yet.
A third man walked up to the others, then changed paths and headed the other way, leaving only two. We could take two.
Back home, Laurel spent most of her time in her hut writing. But she was strong, perhaps stronger than she gave herself credit for. When the time came, she’d fight. It was up to me to make sure she could win.
“What’d he say?” one of the coyotes asked the other.
“He doesn’t believe her story,” the other answered. “But I can tell you, she wasn’t lying.”
The first shook his head. “So we what, throw her back in the pit and leave them here to rot?”
Bound to Change: A Limited Edition Spring Shifter Romance Collection Page 50