by Cathryn Fox
My mind races, trying to sort things through. Even if my small army is able to take out the six armed guards when the cannon sounds at midday, how will I ever convince these broken wolves that I can offer them freedom? Will they allow me to lead them from the compound, or will they protect their master at all cost and turn on me?
As I eye the shifters with uncertainty, I press my hand to my stomach to settle my agitated wolf, but as I leash her, I know she has every right to be upset. This unexpected turn of events could mean the end of her freedom—and everyone else’s.
Fearing the worst, I blink hard to squeeze the dirt from my eyes, desperate to clear my vision. I need to find Stone and I need to find him now.
“You shouldn’t have come back.”
As if my thoughts had somehow conjured him, I feel Stone closing the distance between us. I also feel the hot, seething anger emanating from his every pore.
Keeping my back to him as I gather my composure I answer with, “How could I not?”
His rage overwhelms me as he comes closer but the softness in his knuckles as they brush along my arm speaks of a deeper emotion, one he can no longer keep hidden from me. With my gut clenching, I spin around and I’m about to explain why I’m back, about to regurgitate my rehearsed speech in order to make him understand, but my lungs seize when I see the ugly purple scars marring his upper body.
Recent scars.
Scars inflicted by our master.
I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood and when my fingers twitch, wanting in the most desperate way to soothe his sores—lashes delivered because of my disobedience—it forces me to fist my hands and anchor them to my sides.
I know better than to show emotion in this prison. For both our sakes.
“This is my fault,” I say quietly, barely able to keep my wolf contained as rage spikes my blood pressure.
My eyes go to Stone’s and while I expect to see reproach in his dark gaze, what I see instead has my throat constricting and my heart aching for him.
His long, mussed hair brushes along his chiseled cheeks as he dips his head to better see me. The hardness on his face softens when he says, “It’s not your fault, Pride.”
I gulp the heavy air but can barely fill my lungs as I scrutinize him. With my mind going in a million different directions, I assess both the physical and emotional damage done to his body and mind, and while I know he’s lying, trying to protect me from the harsh truth, it does make me think of Sandy and what she said to me.
“You’re nothing but trouble for the rest of us and no one wants you here.”
As Sandy’s words echo in my head I want to tell Stone I’m sorry. For not believing in him. For not trusting him. For…everything.
But since I know nothing about forgiveness how can I expect him to simply put the past behind us.
“Stone, I’m…I’m…” I try to formulate the right words in my mind when I suddenly notice that the yard has grown exceptionally quiet. Even though we’re speaking telepathically, and trying not to draw attention, many wolves are focusing on us with dark curiosity, and that doesn’t bode well for either of us.
I glance back at Stone. His troubled eyes collide with mine and inside my head his voice is a soft, coarse rasp, one filled with raw emotion. “Pride-”
Despite the warmth of the day, a chill runs through me because I know he’s thinking about that night in the cave, the night I gave myself to another. That has my thoughts careening to my new mate and worry for his safety gnaws at my insides.
What could the master want from him?
As I mull that worry over, one large raindrop lands on my forehead. An ominous cloud moves in overhead, darkening the courtyard. A cool breeze comes out of nowhere and rushes across my face, the whispering hush of danger following in its wake.
Stone’s dark eyes are somber and I see a sadness that he can’t hide as his gaze moves over my face. My throat clenches painfully and when I think about everything he’s done for me I can’t help but feel a sense of disloyalty to him.
For a moment we stand there in strained silence, then before I break down and cry at the unmasked grief clouding his face, I slice the tension by saying, “I had to come back.”
His mouth tightens. “No you didn’t.”
“Stone—” I begin but he cuts me off.
He casts his eyes down and his look is intense when he begins, “You need to listen to me.”
“No, you need to listen to me,” I say almost frantic. “We need to put a stop to this. You know it as well as I do.”
His gaze darts nervously around the courtyard and I can tell he’s uncomfortable but working hard to hide it. His jaw seesaws from side to side as he clenches hard. “I told you, it’s not safe for you here. Not now.”
Every muscle in my body stiffens and the nerves tracking along my spine tingle. I look at him, my eyes searching his for answers. “What’s going on here? What is it you’re not telling me?”
Before he can speak, Mario steps up to us and directs Stone to the obstacle course. While I’m desperate for answers, desperate to put my plan into motion, I have no choice but to step away. I can’t cause a commotion. It’s too soon for that.
Anxiety flutters in my belly as I watch Stone take his place at the start line. I back out of the crowd and move to the sidelines, to lose myself in the shadows while I continue to count the minutes which suddenly seem to be ticking by far too quickly.
As I keep one eye on Stone, noting the way he negotiates the course with practiced ease, I press my back to the fortress wall and try to see inside the mansion, try to catch some sign that Logan is nearby, unharmed, ready and waiting for the signal.
I work to tamp down my nervousness while I focus back in on Stone’s large, streamlined frame as he run through the course. But when he slows on the zig zags, worry fills me. It occurs to me how much time we’re losing. Time we can’t afford to lose.
Behind the clouds I know the sun is rising higher and higher in the sky and I know I have to have everything in place before it’s directly overhead.
Stone finally finishes the course, and when he comes out the winner, he shifts back to human and pulls on his jeans. Then he turns to face me. From across the courtyard we stare at one another in mute silence and an excruciating looks passes between us.
The wind hums around the yard blowing dirt and debris across our faces and before I get a chance to tell him about my small army outside and what they’re about to do, he weaves his way through the crowd and closes the distance between us. His face is serious, his eyes grave as he looks past my shoulders.
“Not everyone wants or can be saved, Pride,” he announces like he’s already privy to my plan.
“You’re wrong,” I say and give a hard shake of my head, refusing to believe him. If I did, that would mean I’d dragged Logan and his entire family into my dark, dangerous world and put their very lives at risk for nothing.
When he gestures with a nod, I use slow careful movements and twist on the balls of my feet. Following his gaze I search through the throngs of wolves until I spot Sandy smoothing her hair off her face. She glares at me then shifts her stance to looks at Stone. When I watch her turn on her puppy charm in the face of the compound’s alpha, I take note of the new scars decorating her flesh. The sight has my wolf howling and all I want to do is weep for her.
My eyes flick back to Stone’s. “She’s-” I stop, unable to bring the words to life, unable to give them meaning.
He gives a tight nod and his nostrils flare wide as he slides me a knowing look. “Yeah, I know.”
I lower my head and frown. “Of course you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The tension in his tone has my head jerking back up with a start. “Nothing.” I swallow, not at all sure how it makes me feel to know that Stone will soon have pups with Sandy. But I do know that the unwise sting of jealousy I’m experiencing makes me uncomfortable, especially since I’ve given myself
to another—a powerful, caring wolf who is going against his own best interests to help me.
“She wants out of here,” I say more to convince myself than anything else. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Are you sure about that?” he challenges.
“Yes,” I snap, although I’m not sure about anything. Not anymore. Needing to redirect the conversation I rush out, “We’ve come with a plan, Stone.”
His dark eyes are explosive as they move around the courtyard and I know exactly who he’s looking for and exactly what he’ll try to do when he finds him. “We?”
“Yes, we,” I say, as I listen to the cannon boom in the distance.
I scan the courtyard and once again notice how much attention we’ve drawn. But despite the warning glares aimed my way, I realize it’s too late to turn back now. I can’t let doubt cloud my mission and I have to cling to the belief that once we take down the master, it will break the spell he has over these broken and abused wolves.
Knowing we need to move fast and get close to the handlers before my team on the outside attacks, I step closer to Stone and try not to appear conspiratorial when I say, “I need you to pay careful attention to what I’m about to tell you, because we’re all going to get out of here today and we need your help.” I continue to speak, but stop short when I realize he’s no longer listening to me.
I watch his eyes narrow unnaturally, and note the way he’s sniffing the air. When he looks at a distant spot near the master’s private entrance, the hairs on my nape prickle and tendrils of unease crawl over my skin like an army of red hot fire ants.
Stone gives a slow shake of his head, and the worry in his voice scares me when he says, “Pride, oh hell, Pride, what have you done?”
I spin around in time to see the master, shielding himself from the impending rainstorm with a black umbrella, but it’s who he’s with that sends my heart into overdrive and has cold flooding my veins.
Darkness churns inside my stomach as the master moves with purpose, each menacing step meant to intimate, to force me to react. As he baits me, his cold shrewd eyes search my face and it takes every ounce of control I have to keep my wolf from rushing at him when all I want to do is let her off her leash.
I look right at him, taking in the hard lines of his profile, then sever his lecherous gaze as I shift my concentration to the young girl anchored to his side.
Expression stricken, the girl lifts her lashes, and when her terrified green eyes flicker over mine, it occurs with dawning horror that the master has captured none other than Logan’s cousin, the sweet and innocent Gem.
With her hands and feet in manacles, she shuffles alongside the master. I hiss when I watch her stumble, a riot of emotions overcoming me, congesting my ability to think with any sort of clarity.
As I stare at them from across the courtyard, I can taste Gem’s tension like it’s my own. It leaves a bitter residue on the back of my tongue and has sour bile punching into my throat.
I fight for a measure of control as I look her over, my brain registering the bright red scars on her forehead as well as the swollen puffy flesh around her blood crusted mouth. A chill scurries up my spine and air leaves my lungs in a whoosh when I realize just how badly this could turn out. Because the truth is, Gem, who has never known abuse in her entire life, and who has never, ever been confined by a cruel master, is in way over her head.
We all are.
My breath comes quicker, my pulse pounding in my throat as I clench and unclench my hands, berating myself for not calculating this risk. How will I ever get her out from his control before the cannon strikes at noon?
Thunder rumbles in the dark sky and when the clouds split open, the cold rain does little to soothe the hot rage rising inside me. Fat raindrops cake the dirt on Gem’s torn clothes and dilute the blood dribbling down her trembling chin. The intoxicating scent gains the awareness of the restless wolves milling about and they begin to circle like the ravenous predators they’ve become since capture—since the master turned them into his puppets.
Guided by instinct, I make a move to go to her, but Stone’s hand comes down on my shoulder to stop me and the sheer strength of his grip doesn’t go unnoticed. His fingers bite into my flesh, pinning me in place and when the word, “Don’t,” rumbles in the air, my footsteps still.
Before I can even think about my next move, the cannon sounds in the distance and my brain registers that it’s high noon. I spin around frantically, my eyes surfing over the crowd, excepting to find a courtyard in chaos as my team closes in from the outside.
Except what I find instead has my heart hammering and my pulse racing like mad.
Panicked, my glance darts to the guards and dread floods my lungs, making it difficult to breathe when I find all six of them still standing tall, their guns directed at the courtyard as they police us dogs from above.
Apprehension surges through my bloodstream and I feel like my world is closing in on me. The impenetrable fortress walls seem to be inching closer and closer, squeezing the air from the yard and my arteries until I can barely comprehend how quickly things have fallen apart. I force myself to breathe slowly, my mind racing with unanswered questions.
What happened to my pack?
Our plan?
Thunder claps loudly snapping me back to reality, and as lightening streaks across the cloud bloated sky my nerve endings crackle in warning, my brain repeatedly screeching that this was not supposed to happen!
This was not supposed to happen!
With the world around me collapsing, everything inside me screams in alarm, my senses, emotions and thoughts running circles in my brain until my mind shuts down and my animal impulses come out full force.
Fearing the worst—a failed mission and a lifetime of captivity for all—there is nothing I can do to keep my primal side at bay. Fully understanding that something has been unleashed inside me, and that I won’t be able to stop my caged wolf from turning mutinous, I deliver a yelp.
My torn nightgown rips clear of my body as I embrace the wild animal clawing at my insides. The world around me goes deathly still and I ignore the searing pain pulling at me as my joints pop and my bones slide into place.
Once my metamorphosis is complete I crouch low, putting my weight on my front paws in preparation as my nails rake the rich, pungent soil.
I take in all the eyes staring at me, one cruel set in particular. As coldness envelops me, fight or flight instincts kick in hard and my wolf lets loose a deep guttural howl, her control snapping like a frayed leash.
Targeting the master’s challenging gleam in my crosshairs, my pewter eyes—eyes that have seen far too much for a girl my age—zero in on his pulsing jugular.
I draw the master’s scent into my lungs, and when I move past the expensive cologne, I can smell the silver in his pocket, the gun powder residue on his hands from the last wolf he executed. Some small coherent part of my brain is telling me to salvage my plan, to show obedience in some last ditch effort to prove my loyalties, but I can’t seem to leash my wolf.
She hungers to spill his blood and nothing or no one can stop her.
The rain falls harder, the torrential downpour coating my thick fur to my body and blurring my vision. Stone is yelling at me, his dark, hostile voice vibrating in my ears, cautioning me.
From my peripheral vision I can see him stripping his clothes from his body, desperate to shift back into his primal form. But I ignore his words of warning and bare my teeth in challenge. Despite the six guns pointed down at me, ready to shoot upon the master’s signal, I call my wolf into action and my beefy paws sink into the mud. I take a threatening step forward.
My actions aren’t rational, or smart, but when the strong, primal scent of wet earth reaches my nose and reminds my wolf of freedom, of running through the mountains unleashed, it prompts her to move faster.
Standing his ground, the master gives me a savage smirk, everything about his cool exterior exuding confidence. I rea
lize it’s his malicious way of letting me know he’s not afraid of the runt he’d raised and controlled since birth.
As my enemy shows no fear in the face of an attack it occurs to me just how much danger I’m in. Just how much torture I’m going to have to endure before he kills me.
But I’m certainly not about to let that stop me.
4
As uncontrollable rage unfurls inside me, fury obscures my vision, causing me to miss the wolf closing in from behind. His heavy body lands on top of mine, and I crash to the ground with an agonizing thump. I thrash beneath him, my long talons digging into the wet, unforgiving ground as I struggle to gain purchase.
Sharp canines go to my throat and I howl, the sound carrying in the breeze and echoing off the distant mountains. Breathing hard, I twist and turn, wanting to see into the eyes of my killer before I draw my last breath. But when I manage to turn my neck, and find Stone restraining me from above, his teeth locked on my jugular with predatory precision, it has me questioning his loyalties.
But the ease at which he dominates me has my mind racing back to all the times the master pitted me against him during our agility training. I’m not sure why I’m suddenly thinking about such things. Perhaps it’s because I’m dying and my very life is flashing before my eyes.
Regardless, as blood pours from my neck, one thing becomes glaringly apparent. Over the years Stone could have easily beaten me at the obstacle course, yet I always came out the victor. Everyone, the master included, thought it was because I was smarter, able to think with my head and not my heart. But I’ve only just come to learn that Stone has spent his life fighting with a combination of the two, and that has undeniably made him the better warrior. As I think more about that fact my heart crashes harder and suddenly everything becomes crystal clear.
Stone always let me win because winning meant I’d eat fresh food that day, even though he’d go on scraps. He let me win to save me, the same way he’s saving me now.