Broken Wolf: Moonbound Series, Book Seven

by Krystal Shannan

  “I’m so sorry,” Andrea whispered as darkness swallowed her.

  Vadik opened his eyes to near-black. His entire body ached and his back burned, little trails of fire crisscrossing from hip to shoulder. Two men dragged him by his arms and he tried to put feet on the ground, but he couldn’t.

  His legs didn’t seem to be working.

  The scent of wet earth filled his senses and he tried again to look around. Everything was dark and shadowed. Was his vision blurred? Or was it just too dark outside.

  Andrea. He reached out to feel her, but he couldn’t find anything. There were no emotions coming at him, and when he tried for more, all he got was darkness.

  “N-n-nnnnnnnn-nnooooooooo,” he burbled. Hot blood ran down his face and spluttered when he tried to talk. The entire left side of his head hurt. Actually, everything hurt, tingled, or throbbed. Every single part of his body was in some kind of pain.

  But Andrea. Where was she? Why couldn’t Vadik feel her? Was this some kind of limit to the bond? That if they were too far away, he couldn’t feel her? Why didn’t she tell him?

  “Shut him up, would you?” Adrian Rossi’s voice cut through the night.

  It hadn’t been a nightmare. The torture had been real.

  One of the guards struck his face, and everything blazed in pain again.

  He held back the noise and focused inward, on Andrea. Footsteps pounded toward them. and stopped abruptly. Sounded like hard-packed dirt.

  “Did you get to the barracks?” Adrian asked, a note of panic in his normally controlled voice.

  “She’s not there.”

  A woman! Not another boy guard. A mature female voice. Probably well mature, from the sound.

  “Where the hell is she?” Rossi kicked Vadik’s hanging foot and pain sliced through him.

  “She’s not in the house. We checked,” said one of the young men holding him upright.

  “Even downstairs?” Rossi asked.

  There was silence and he tried to open his eyes again. There seemed to be a bit more light behind them, shining toward Rossi’s face. But it wasn’t quite enough to illuminate anything else around them.

  It looked like there might be big, bushy trees overhead. That could’ve been what was keeping the light away. It certainly smelled earthy enough to be on the back part of the island, where it had looked to be all forest.

  “Damon, take Frederic with you and go check the rest of the paths, until you find her.” Rossi turned away from Vadik and the white of his suit coat shone in the low light. “The rest of you, follow me.”

  He tried to turn his head, but the pain throbbed so thoroughly, he didn’t have the strength to fight it. When they began to move again, light flickered between thick tree trunks.

  They must be so far into the island, there wasn’t even light from the exterior lights making it through. But then, they should be close to where Andrea was. Very close. The generator was almost exactly in the middle of the island.

  “Here.” Rossi made some kind of gesture and the boys who’d been holding Vadik dropped him to the ground without a care.

  The earth was covered in undergrowth and itched at the skin on his chest. His injured back throbbed in the open air.

  “Now, Luna.” Rossi’s voice took on a genial tone, almost instructional. Like a teacher. “The boys are going to go open the top of the cage, and you’re going to do what I told you.”

  He opened his eyes to find naked feet in front of him. They were delicately veined, like a dancer. He tried, one more time, to reach out for Andrea.

  The other footsteps shuffled away and he heard the sharp clink of metal. A sharp lavender fragrance assaulted his nostrils and he felt light pressure of two hands on his forearm.

  The woman began to speak strange words over him and a swirling, overwhelming energy coursed through him. The heady drug-like sensation of swimming engulfed him, then her fingers were gone.

  Hard hands gripped him and dragged him across the ground on his stomach, then hooked under his arms, and picked him up off the ground. A heavy piece of metal went around his neck and hung there. With a loud click, it tightened and settled against his burning—but somehow, less on fire—skin.

  “Mr. Shaw will be surprised to see you.” Adrian Rossi gripped Vadik’s chin and came so close to his face, he seemed like the only thing in the world. “I hope he enjoys his prize.”

  Something jolted through Vadik’s body.

  Andrea. She was awake, and she was scared.

  They found her. He tried to reach out toward her in his mind with as much calm as he could muster.

  I’m coming.

  A radio fuzzed on, then clicked. “This is Frederic. We found her.”

  “Good. Bring her to the cage,” Rossi answered, then the radio clicked again. “Go ahead, boys.”

  Suddenly, he was weightless, and fell, like he’d been tossed off a cliff. He landed on the soft ground with a crunch, and the pain continued to burn through his body.

  A gruff, deep voice cursed in Spanish. “What the hell?”

  The dark earth continued, until it was stopped by a big, cross-hatched link fence. With fingers curled through the fence, a light-skinned girl watched him.

  “Who is that?” Her tone was edgy and distrustful.

  “Isn’t it Luther?” another voice asked.

  “No. Luther’s bald,” the girl answered. “Plus, he got off the island. I heard it from Damon.”

  “Well, whoever the hell it is, we’d better get ready,” the gruff voice spat out. “This is usually when it starts.”

  Vadik tried to stand, but he couldn’t make his legs work. They felt slightly sturdier than they had, but they just wouldn’t work. “Who are you people?” He looked up, and the light seemed to spread the size of the holding tank or cell or whatever it was that held them. Only the walls were earth. The fences rose on each side, all the way to the top fence, which was still open.

  Andrea. If he could get to his feet, and if he could scale that fence, he could get to the opening, and then get out.

  The shaggy-haired, bearded blond man clucked his tongue. “Don’t even think about trying it. The top of the cage is electrified fence.”

  “But it’s open,” Vadik whispered.

  Andrea.

  A scuffle sounded above him and he felt her anxiety. He wiped at his face, trying to get all the obstacles out of his vision so he could see. But clearing his eyes didn’t help the dark.

  The scuffle stopped and he felt Andrea’s anxiety rise, weightless. Then, she screamed, and he saw her fall to the ground not far from him.

  He crawled toward her, his legs working a little better with each movement. “Andrea,” he whispered, like a prayer. Here she was. Safe. He could feel her, touch her, smell her.

  She reached for his face and her eyes went so wide, he thought she was going to scream again. “Vadik.” She gripped his cheeks and the pain was less. Less than he had expected. “Oh, Vadik. I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head. “I’m just glad you’re alive. When I couldn’t feel you…”

  Andrea kissed him and he felt the wetness of tears on her cheeks. “Vadik. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… it must’ve happened when I was passed out. I didn’t know someone other than your mate could turn you.”

  “What?” He came all the way to his knees, surprised he could move that well, and felt his forehead, which had been throbbing like crazy. Now it was just… normal.

  “You didn’t hear the spell?”

  “Look, lovebirds, I hate to do this, but you’d better get up and get ready.” The sarcastic male voice from behind them spoke in flat Spanish.

  Andrea slipped her arms around Vadik’s neck, encompassing the metal collar in the process. She put her lips next to his ear and whispered, “You’re a wolf.”

  His heart almost stopped.

  A wolf? What? No. But that…

  A loud buzzing noise sounded and little doors clicked open in front of each one of the individua
l cages. The red-haired girl gripped the cage with tight white fingers and let out a whimper.

  The blond man glared at them both, and the big, dark man shimmered into a wolf in the middle of his stride, padding off into the night.

  “Owen!” The redhead yelled.

  The blond jumped out of his cage and took the redhead’s hand through her door, then grabbed the fence and stared at Vadik and Andrea. His face was almost sad, but his voice pulsed with urgent energy. “Run!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Pacific Ocean, outside Choaca, Mexico

  MAGGIE GALLAGHER

  * * *

  “Hey, watch the feet, not everyone on this boat is the size of a mutant hulk.” The giant Army Ranger paused and turned to stare down at her, disgust written across his face. The camouflage paint made him even more menacing.

  “You’re a civilian. You shouldn’t even be on this boat,” he growled. “The alphas called in our detachment. Why are you here?” He waved his hand toward the rest of the enforcer team. “There are too many on this boat. Someone’s going to get killed.”

  Maggie stood, not giving him an inch. They might not be trained soldiers, but they knew how to take care of each other. “We’re here because this was our mission first.”

  A deep familiar growl rumbled behind her. Maggie smiled at the Ranger’s immediate discomfort. Luther had been intimidating as a human. But Luther as a badass alpha werewolf was frightening.

  “You’re being rude to my mate. Until your boss says otherwise, she’s in charge.”

  The Ranger huffed out a breath and stalked off.

  Maggie whirled to face Luther. “My big bad alpha.”

  “Always.” He grinned and held up a pair of binoculars. “However, I’d prefer not to wrestle with trained army Rangers. So if you could refrain from calling them names, that’d be fantastic.”

  Maggie snatched the requested binoculars from his hand and turned back to face the horizon where the island lay just out of reach. They’d been careful to stay far enough back not to be seen on any of the cameras. “She hasn’t called yet. I’m worried.”

  “Vadik will take good care of her. I promise.”

  She scanned the top of the island and sighed. “They’re over thirty minutes late for the signal. Rain is about to tell me to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

  “Rain will do nothing of the sort,” Luther said, massaging her shoulders gently.

  “Is it a mistake that we all came, Luther? Was that big doofus right?”

  He sighed. “Do I think a group of civilians belong on a black ops rescue mission? Do you want me to fall on my sword or be honest?”

  “You’re always honest with me.” Maggie scanned the horizon again. The lights were still on across the whole place. It was quiet. At least there was that. If Andrea and Vadik had tripped an alarm, she would be seeing some type of movement.

  “I think you all offer valuable insight to the mission, but no. I don’t think you should’ve all come. Niko is a mobster. Dani…I’m not sure what her skill set is. As a team you all have learned to work well together, but you don’t have the training for this. And I would be ly—”

  A loud rumble cut through the night air. A bright orange fireball mushroomed and then faded into the night. The charges had gone off. With no signal.

  “Rain!” Maggie yelled.

  Luther grabbed one of her hands and she squeezed it, taking comfort in her mate’s strength.

  “I saw it too,” the big Ranger shouted as he ran the length of the oversized speedboat. “We’ve waited long enough, Mags. This is my show now. So either the six of you follow my orders or I’ll drop you all back on the mainland. Understood?”

  “Yes,” Maggie whispered, nodding.

  Rain turned back to the detachment of Black Wolves, war painted, geared up, and ready to roll. “We’re a go!”

  PART TWO

  * * *

  Owen & Clara

  Chapter One

  Owen Collins had spent a month contemplating the nature of torture in a way that Adrian Rossi’s beatings would never touch. The definition of torture.

  Clara.

  She had stretched out to sleep, less than a foot from him, but that foot was bisected by a ten-foot tall, often electrified, chain-link fence. To feel such intense desire for a beautiful, willing, and half-naked woman, but not be able to touch her...

  Torture.

  Another night with no sleep, lying on his side, staring at Clara, and stroking his… beard. Even in the dark, he could see the curve of her hips and the weight of her unfettered breasts against the simple white fabric of the dress she wore. Breasts that moved with each breath, and that were always begging for his touch.

  He was hard again. The tight cloth he wore around his midsection made erections almost painful. Although, he liked the pain. It made him able to focus.

  Owen turned over to get Clara’s cascade of red hair out of his vision, only to be faced with the silent-sleeping madman in the next cage who also happened to be her half-brother. Gabriel Rossi on one side. Clara Rossi on the other. Owen’s erection in between.

  This was hell.

  Sweet, sweet hell.

  The night was quiet, and the guards had long-since passed on their rounds. It would’ve been in Owen’s best interests to sleep, but his desire for Clara kept him awake. Still, he could sense the movements around the island. There were visitors again, and that often meant the cage doors would open soon. They never knew when, but it was always coming.

  The cage on the other side of Gabriel was empty again, as were the two that sidled up to Clara. The last of the red-haired boys had fallen on the last hunt, before Clara had been dropped in and Owen’s life had turned on its head.

  Footsteps pounded on the path somewhere, far away. Several people at once. Almost to the cages.

  This was it.

  This hunt, it would have to be Gabriel that fell.

  He flipped over and reached out to see if the fence was on. His wolf would heal him if it was—even though it would burn away the flesh on his fingers for a time. He was used to it.

  The metal was cool to his touch, and Owen dragged himself across the ground. He whispered Clara’s name as low as he could, but she didn’t wake. He turned back to see if Gabriel’s breathing had changed. It hadn’t.

  Owen grabbed a tiny rock and tossed it through the fence. It hit Clara’s nose and her face twitched. Warmth passed through him and he rested his head against the ground, watching her awaken.

  He’d been watching Clara fall asleep and wake up for twenty-four days, and until she’d dropped into his life, he’d never realized he could be so aware of someone’s every move, breath and gesture. He’d never tire of watching her freckled nose wrinkle up as she woke. Or of watching her gold-green eyes flutter open. Or her limbs stretch off the sleep.

  He wanted more mornings.

  Owen put a finger up to his lips when she settled those green eyes on him.

  She perked up and nodded. She must hear the footsteps. Now pounding harder, then stopping.

  Clara scooted toward him, on her side, and reached for his hand that was still hooked into the fence. As soon as her skin was on his, his body lit up and his blood began to race through his veins.

  The cold metal framed her beautiful lips as she offered them to him through the fence. He kissed her, hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Her sigh drove his hips toward the fence, but they stopped. As they always did.

  He wasn’t going to do this in front of Gabriel. And there was always the chance that the approaching guards would turn on the electricity and burn Clara’s face or her hands… or Owen’s dick.

  Fuckin’ torture, that’s what it is.

  She pulled away and raised her head to look behind Owen. Her whisper was low, barely even more than her lips moving. “He’s still asleep.”

  He nodded. “He’ll wake up when they get closer.”

  The pounding feet split into two groups. It sounded l
ike one group went back toward the center of the island, while the other continued on toward the cages. But he could never be certain, after not having been out of the back of the island for more than two years.

  “Remember what I told you,” Owen whispered.

  Clara nodded and put her head down level with his again. She moved her fingers against his, and a smile curled across her lips. “We’ll make it, Owen.”

  “I know.” He rubbed his thumb along her palm, making circles absently. “We have to make it.”

  Her eyes closed and she leaned her face against the ground. “We’ll make it, and we’ll get off this island, and we will live somewhere far from here, where Rossi can never find us again.”

  “Don’t do that to her, Owen.” Gabriel’s voice was growly and tense, but loud. It tuned out all of the footsteps above them.

  “Leave us alone, Gabe.”

  “You know she’s not going to make it.”

  Clara’s fingers gripped at his while her half-brother’s words sank in to Owen’s heart. It was ridiculous to think that they could hide anything from the seasoned, battle-hardened wolf. But Owen had to believe.

  “Who knows? This might be the day you fall, man.” Owen didn’t stop gazing at Clara’s face. It was the only thing keeping him sane. He didn’t want to end up like Gabriel, raving and mad, even though he was surviving.

  “I’m not going to die.”

  Clara laughed. “Don’t listen to him, Owen. We’re both going to make it.”

  With a loud clank, the top of the cage beside Clara flew open. All three of them sat up and turned their heads toward the sky. The lights glowed on and slowly illuminated the dark corners of the cages.

  Clara stood and walked across to the other fence.

  Owen got to his knees. He could sense her tension. Ever since she’d been dropped in, she was worried someone else would pay for her mistake. Every time a guard approached, she’d look up and repeat to herself, Not Faye, not Faye, not Faye.