Therian Prisoner

by Cyndi Friberg

  “Why didn’t you shift and go get help or something?” Devon’s pulse accelerated as she imagined Dorothy’s helplessness. She knew all too well how it felt to be helpless.

  “I’d just realized I was pregnant and I wasn’t willing to risk the baby.” Dorothy busied herself with breakfast as they momentarily lapsed into silence. “My mother lost two babies by shifting too soon. With me she didn’t shift the entire time she was pregnant and I was born healthy.” Dorothy looked up from the scrambled eggs and managed to smile. “Don’t let that scare you, hon. It’s a complication with my bloodline, not all Therians.”

  The eggs were almost done, so Devon untied the bag surrounding the loaf of bread and put a couple of slices in the toaster. “How did you realize Dieter knew you were shapeshifters?”

  “When the beating didn’t change our minds, Dieter told his men to tie Albert to a tree. Then they fastened amulets around both our necks before they turned their evil on me.”

  “What sort of amulet?” She didn’t need to ask what sort of evil. There seemed to be an inevitable destination for violence against females.

  “It weakened us so badly we couldn’t shift, which made it impossible for us to avoid what they did to me. They made Albert watch as all five of them had a turn at me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Devon barely forced the words past her burning throat and tears blurred her vision. All the shame surged back to the surface constricting her chest and making her tremble. It wasn’t your fault. That’s what Ian had told her last night. So why couldn’t she make herself believe it?

  Dorothy filled two plates and brought them to the table before she spoke again. “I’m Ian’s closest neighbor, but I don’t think that’s why he wanted me to talk to you.”

  Devon brought her coffee to the table and sat, not sure if she’d be able to eat until she regained control of her emotions. “I don’t know what he expects me to say. I wasn’t raped.”

  “Then why do I see my own pain reflected back from your eyes?” Dorothy reached across the table and touched Devon’s hand. “You don’t have to tell me what happened, but talk about what you’re feeling. Keeping it in makes the emotions stronger, gives them more power over you.”

  “I don’t think the emotions will make sense unless I explain what happened.” She pressed her mug to her lips but couldn’t make herself drink.

  “I’m more than willing to listen, but only if you’re ready to talk.”

  Somehow it was easier to share her shame with someone who didn’t know her well, someone who had suffered similar pain. “I was kidnapped and held captive for a month. They kept me alone in a room, with no sound and often no light. They put me through all sorts of tests and gave me all sorts of drugs.” She shuddered as the horror crept up on her again.

  Dorothy took her hand again, anchoring her to the present. “You’re safe, Devon. It’s over.”

  Allowing the simple touch to calm her, Devon took a moment to organize her thoughts before she continued. “When the project lead realized I couldn’t shift, she altered the focus of her research. I was never really sure what they were trying to learn, other than understanding our ability to transform, of course.”

  “This went on for a month?”

  “Twenty-eight days to be exact.”

  “When did the focus change?” Without releasing her hand, Dorothy picked up her fork and began to eat her eggs. The message was clear and remarkably effective. This was just a conversation about events that could no longer hurt her.

  Devon began to relax and the events came flowing out. “The new injections, some sort of gene therapy, revved me up like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I tried to ignore it. I tried walking it off. I tried ice-cold showers, but nothing helped.”

  “Did they allow you to masturbate?”

  Dorothy’s tone was so matter-of-fact that Devon replied without hesitation. “Yes, but it didn’t help for long. And the urgency grew stronger with each injection.”

  “So they gave you someone to help with the sexual frenzy?” Devon only managed to nod, so Dorothy asked, “Was he Therian or human?”

  Her secret was almost out. She took a deep breath and pushed it all the way into the light. “They were human. Three of the guards. They weren’t allowed to—penetrate me, but they did everything else you can imagine.” She looked away as tears escaped the corners of her eyes. “And I…liked it.” Her hurried confession ended with a ragged sob and Devon covered her face with her hands.

  Dorothy rounded the table and knelt beside Devon, wrapping her arms around Devon’s trembling body. “That was every bit as much rape as what was done to me. Instead of holding you down they altered your will with chemicals. They took control of your body and forced you to feel what they wanted you to feel. This was not your fault. None of it was your fault.”

  It only took a few minutes for Devon to cry herself out. She’d shed so many tears in the past twenty-four hours she was amazed she had any left. She eased back from Dorothy and forced herself to smile. “I keep telling myself that, but I’m not sure how to start believing it.”

  “If you were covered in bruises no one would doubt that it hadn’t been your fault. But they used drugs to alter your needs and paralyze your will, so you feel responsible. Did you willingly take the drugs?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ask the guards to touch you?”

  Devon shook her head, but Dorothy arched her brows, obviously not satisfied with a nonverbal response. “No. They came into my cell uninvited and took advantage of my reaction to the injections.”

  “Exactly right. Now say it like you mean it.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. No honorable person would have done what those guards did.”

  “Good girl.” Dorothy pushed back to her feet and returned to her chair. “Now keep reminding yourself until all the guilt is gone.”

  Cold eggs had never tasted so good. Devon felt empty, but in a good way. She was no longer encumbered by unwanted feelings. She blew out a shaky breath and realized Dorothy hadn’t finished her story. Ian hadn’t entered the scene, so there had to be more to tell. “I don’t mean to sound crass, but if Dieter murdered Albert, why did he let you live?”

  “Someone had to sign over the deed. When they’d finished with me, they slit Albert’s throat. Then they told me I had until sundown the following day to make the transfer legal and get out. Ian found me later that night. He buried Albert and took me to safety. Without Albert by my side, I didn’t care what happened to the place. I didn’t care about much of anything for a very long time.”

  Only one detail remained and Devon couldn’t bring herself to ask.

  “I lost the baby,” Dorothy told her. “But I had other children with men almost as wonderful as Albert. The rest of my life has been happy thanks to Ian. If he hadn’t sensed my grief and cared enough to respond, I would most likely be dead.”

  “He sensed your grief?” The implication sent a shiver down Devon’s spine. “Ian’s empathic?”

  “Very.” Dorothy munched on a piece of bacon and offered no further explanation.

  “How long did it take you to get over the pain?”

  “Honestly, I still have days when I feel like a victim. I acknowledge the emotions as real and valid without allowing them to control me.”

  That all sounded well and good, but Devon was still at the mercy of her emotions. “How did you… I’m not sure I’m that strong.”

  “You are easily as strong as me. The first step toward recovery is to regain control over your life. That’s what you’ve lost, you know. You lost control over your environment. Then you lost control over your body, your sensations and sexuality. The only way to break through the pain and start healing is to reclaim them on your own terms.”

  That made sense. Devon just wasn’t sure how to accomplish what Dorothy was suggesting.

  * * * * *

  Ian hesitated on the front porch. He’d been gone at least an hour, yet he wanted to make sur
e Devon had plenty of time to confide in Dorothy. Dorothy was easy to talk to and her past would give them a common ground. Still, he needed to be with Devon, to protect her and provide for her. The instinctual drive was growing stronger with each passing hour. He also ached to claim her, but that had to wait until she’d dealt with some of these feelings.

  The tantalizing scent of bacon drew him onward, so he knocked on the door before he pushed it open.

  “You own the place, you overgrown bird.” Dorothy laughed. “You don’t need to knock.”

  “I didn’t want to interrupt.” His gaze immediately sought out Devon. She was dressed in jeans and a dark-green blouse that accented the color of her eyes. “Smells awfully good in here. Did you save me anything?”

  “Munch on the last few pieces of bacon and I’ll scramble you some eggs.”

  “Would you like coffee? I figured out your infernal machine.” Devon emphasized the word infernal and Dorothy laughed.

  “Sounds great.” He pulled out the chair next to Devon’s and watched the women work. They seemed to be getting along well and Devon appeared comfortable, more relaxed than she’d been since he found her. Good. That was what he’d been hoping for when he called and asked for Dorothy’s help. She placed a plate of steaming eggs on the table in front of him and handed him a fork. Devon followed with a mug of steaming coffee. “I could get used to this sort of service.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Dorothy crossed her arms over her chest as Ian scarfed the eggs. “So how long are you two going to be around?”

  “Trying to get rid of me already?” Ian teased.

  “Just the opposite, actually. If you’re going to be here Friday night, I’ll invite you to my dinner party. The others don’t see near enough of you.”

  “This is what, Tuesday?” Ian shook his head as he cleared his mouth of food. “Friday’s kind of doubtful, but I’ll give you a call.”

  “Fair enough. Ain’t it just like me to trash the kitchen and leave?” She laughed then nodded toward the door. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

  “Sure.” He scooped up the last bite of eggs before he followed her outside. “What’s up?”

  “Are you in love with her?” He saw a fierce protectiveness in Dorothy’s dark gaze that hadn’t been there when she arrived. “If you don’t care for her deeply, let me take her home with me.”

  “Nothing in this world could make me hurt Devon. I’m glad she confided in you. I know she needed to get it all out, but I think she also needs me right now.”

  Dorothy just stared at him for a long moment as she nibbled at her lower lip. “She needs the one thing you’ll have a hard time giving up.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ll give her anything she needs.”

  “She needs control. You’re alpha to the marrow of your bones. How can she regain control of her life, her body and her sexuality with someone like you?”

  He was honest enough to understand the complication. His first instinct in any situation was to take over. In the bedroom it was even worse. He needed his partner to surrender or he wasn’t fully satisfied. “If I can’t give her what she needs, I’ll bring her to you.”

  “Or take her home. I know Erin mostly by reputation, but her reputation is impeccable.”

  “Devon’s still pissed at Kyle and where Erin goes Kyle soon follows.”

  “Then bring her to me.”

  Ian sighed. “I think she might be the one.” Saying the words out loud made them feel possible. His heart leapt and he clenched his fists, frustrated by the complication. Why couldn’t life ever be simple with him?

  “I hope you’re right, but she still has to come first right now.”

  Her unintentional double entendre made him smile. “I’ll do my best.”

  Dorothy just rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.”

  “I will protect her with my life and make sure she has exactly what she needs no matter how unnatural it might feel to me.”

  It took her a moment to nod, then she glanced up at the cloudless sky and smiled. “The upper meadow is in bloom. It would be a lovely spot for a picnic.”

  He acknowledged the suggestion with a smile then said, “Thanks, for all of this.”

  “It was no trouble. She’s adorable.” Dorothy gave him a quick hug then hopped on her ATV and headed home.

  Ian lingered on the porch, troubled by the possibilities. He wanted Devon and she wanted him, but would he be able to hold back, to allow her control, once his predatory nature was fully engaged?

  Chapter Six

  Heather dragged a comb through her wet hair with a frustrated sigh. She’d hoped a few hours sleep and a nice long shower would soothe her frayed nerves, but she still felt like the Therian rope in a ruthless tug-of-war. What a cluster! She’d reluctantly left Lexxie with Dhane, though she’d refused to spend the night in a rebel’s house. Recent events might have shredded her emotions and made her question the wisdom of some of her father’s choices. Still, that wasn’t reason enough to abandon her pack.

  Dressed in a bra and panties, she opened the door to her bathroom and gasped. “Shit, Dad. A little privacy please!” She snatched her robe off the back of the bathroom door and quickly put it on. “Any particular reason you’re being so rude?”

  Her father stood by the dresser with her phone in his hand and murder in his bright blue eyes. “What’s on County Road 49?”

  Showing fear to Nate Fitzroy only invited abuse. She’d figured that out a long time ago. Squaring her shoulders, she respectfully lowered her gaze and made sure her voice didn’t quiver. “I thought I had a line on Dhane, but it turned out to be nothing.” If she hadn’t taken a minute to purge her call and message logs before she went to bed, he wouldn’t be asking questions. He’d be banishing another traitor. But she hadn’t thought about the GPS. Only her father was that suspicious.

  He tossed her phone onto the bed and closed the distance between them. “Look at me.”

  His bullshit detector was even better than hers, but she’d been dancing around the truth for years. Reluctantly, she raised her gaze. “It was a waste of time. I’m sorry. I was hoping to have better news.” She didn’t flinch beneath his piercing gaze. There was no way in hell she’d endanger Landon or Dhane, regardless of her feelings about the rebellion. “Why didn’t you tell me Dhane was missing?” She allowed resentment to flicker through her expression, hoping to explain her heightened emotions.

  For a long, silent moment he just stared at her and inhaled her scent. “I’ve been patient long enough. You need to choose.”

  She felt her mouth gape and snapped it shut. She thought they’d settled this nonsense weeks ago. Why was he bringing it up now? She’d choose her mate when she was good and ready and not before. This was the one area where the rebel position made perfect since. Therian customs were ridiculously antiquated when it came to women’s rights. Or the lack thereof.

  “I turned twenty-five three months ago. What’s the hurry?” She tried to sound insistent without being disrespectful.

  “The hunters are restless and their aggression will grow until one of them claims you.” Brutal amusement suddenly made his eyes gleam. “I can hold a competition. That might be fun. Let them fight for you.”

  The image of Bruce’s mangled body flashed through her mind and she shuddered. “No. I’ll give it some serious thought. There’s no need for a competition.”

  He grabbed her chin and guided her gaze to his. “Parents are supposed to love all their children the same, but you’re my only daughter. You’ve always been special to me.” Before she could react to the unexpected praise, his fingers tightened painfully. “If you betray me, neither of us will survive the aftermath.”

  * * * * *

  Clutching a folded blanket to her chest, Devon paused to look around. The flower-dotted meadow was nestled in the shallow valley between two mountain peaks. Even with the sun beating down on her, the air was cool and refreshing. It felt s
o good to be outside. No walls, no cameras, no guards.

  Ian set down a large wicker hamper and motioned for the blanket. He spread it across the grass then sat. “What are you thinking about? You’ve hardly said a word since we left the cabin.”

  “Was this Dorothy’s idea?” She didn’t want to insult him, but Ian didn’t seem like the picnic type. Storming the walls of the castle and carrying off the damsel in distress was more his style.

  “How’d you guess?” His smile was slow and sexy and his gaze kept drifting to her mouth.

  “No offense, this just has Dorothy written all over it.”

  “I hope that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.”

  “Not at all.” She slipped off her shoes and joined him on the blanket, wondering what it would take to ease the tension twisting through her. She’d always been comfortable with Ian and she wanted to be comfortable with him now. If it came to a choice between sex and friendship, she wasn’t sure which she would choose. Their friendship meant a lot to her, yet she’d always hoped they could take it to the next level without destroying the foundation they’d already built. Way easier said than done.

  “Root beer or beer beer?” He held up a bottle of each.

  “Root beer.” She took the bottle from his right hand and twisted the top off. The dark-brown liquid bubbled and hissed as she raised it to her lips. He opened the beer and saluted her before taking a drink. If it hadn’t been for their kiss last night, this would feel like any of a hundred activities they’d shared down through the years. No, that wasn’t true. She’d spent a lot of time with Ian, but there were always others around. Usually her mother or Kyle. This felt like a date, not a family outing. “Other than Kyle finding his mate, have there been any other major developments I should know about?” She tried to keep her tone light, casual.

  “Ava’s sister, Carissa, was claimed by Quinton Jenaro.” He turned back to the hamper and dug out a small stack of paper plates.

  “I’m glad. I know you don’t like Quinn, but I’ve always felt sorry for him.”