By the time Bradley had healed enough to go after them, they were long gone, leaving behind no trace. For months he had tracked down leads - the territory was a huge expanse of land, many hundreds of acres, but finally, there was a sighting. A beautiful blond she-wolf was seen in the furthest reaches of his territory, right on the border between the Tall Grass pack and the Loam Floor pack lands. Enraged at the thought that for all those months they hadn’t even left the territory, but instead had holed up in some remote hills, he took one of his Shields with him, his second in command, and eventually tracked them to a dilapidated old cottage sitting on the banks of a river.
They had been using the river when coming or going so that no scent would lead back to their hovel. But now, being so close, he could smell them. Jake was relatively easy to take down – two on one odds were never in his favor. But the bitch, Lissa had already disappeared. Taking to the river once Bradley and Turosk had been scented as they stood upon the brow of the little hill, and using the river to aid her, she evaded them for a further three days. Living on the run was no life for a female, and she was run ragged by the time they caught up to her, hunting in the neighboring territory.
Turosk’s blade quickly took her life, and it was all over.
~~~~
“When your Alpha, Marcus,” he spat the name. “Found out what had happened in his territory, he initiated a blood feud that has lasted to this very day. For years wolves on both sides have died senselessly. Until he finally agreed to hand you over as part of a peace treaty. Even wars don’t last forever.”
Beth watched him as he bit his lip in thought. “That bastard killed her so that I couldn’t,” he told Beth now, eyes shimmering with angry lust, thinking about the woman he’d loved, hated and didn’t get to torture. “I said nothing to him at the time, but half way back, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. How dared he? How could he take my revenge from me?”
Horrified, Beth sat in silence. The tale was quite a bit more graphic and detailed that she’d wanted, and if she’d been frightened of this man before, she was absolutely terrified now.
“I killed him, of course, for his betrayal, small though it was.” He suddenly smiled. “Nobody has betrayed me since. Nobody until you, that is.”
“I never–”
“You lost the fight!” he exploded. “If you had won, why you could have had everything you’d ever dreamed of, but now... He trailed away, lost in thought. “As soon as I found out about you, I knew I had to have you. And for years Marcus denied me. But every wolf has his price, and his was peace. It was all going so perfectly.” His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned into a cruel line.
“I’m not Lissa,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve this.”
“Yes you are,” he bellowed, rushing forward and striking her a blow across the cheek that left behind burning welts. “You’re just like her.”
“I know I resemble her a bit, but–”
“You have her eyes,” he agreed.
“I’ve seen others with the same eyes.”
“No,” he replied with a soft smile. “The only other wolves with silver human-form eyes, are relations of hers. They’re inherited, you know.”
“What? Please, I just want to go home.” What was he babbling about?
“Did I forget to mention?” He took a knee before her, lovingly cupping the cheek he’d struck. “That bitch only escaped that night in the cabin because Jake laid down his life for her. For her, and their children.”
It felt like the world imploded inside Beth’s skull. When they’d found her, she’d been only a tiny thing, scrabbling in a hole beside the bodies of her two brothers. Her mother had been found dead less than a mile from where they’d found her, a large “R” carved into her chest. “R” meaning rogue. They’d never found anyone willing to admit to being her father. She thought of the collars sitting in a drawer in her upstairs bedroom, and suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. Her eyes widened as she met the smug stare of the Alpha.
“So, now you know. You’re already home, Beth Tall Grass.”
~~~~
Beth didn’t know how long she lay on the cold, stone floor. She only knew that Bradley returned twice to her cell. Once, when she’d regained some of her strength – not enough to be a threat, nor even enough to shimmer, but some – with food and water, and more of his wild ramblings.
“My son,” he’d told her with an amused smile. “Mourns you dreadfully.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here?” she’d questioned.
“Don’t be ridiculous! No one knows you’re here.” And then he’d smiled again, and she’d known that what he would tell her next was not going to be pretty.
“He knew of you, of course. He was sent to fetch you for me, and imagine my surprise when he’d returned mated to you himself. I can tell you now that I wasn’t one bit happy about that.” He’d growled. “You were always meant for me. But I indulged him, to a point. When it became clear to me that he loved you as much as he feared me, I knew he would give you up.” Grinning, he’d lowered himself to sit beside her companionably. “If only to spare you the pain and madness that breaking a Bond brings with it.”
She’d shivered, the revelation making her feel sick. Donovan had known who she was all along, and he’d brought her here for his sadistic father to torment. It didn’t matter that he’d fallen in love with her along the way. His original plan stung her to the core.
Bradley had stroked her forehead tenderly, his venomous whispers echoing in her mind. “He begged me not to hurt you, and now he blames himself for your death.” He’d sighed dramatically, raising himself from the floor. The creak of the door hurt her ears as he cheerfully gave her one last tidbit of information. “But now you’re my little secret.”
The second time he’d returned with more food and water, and was apparently content just to gaze at her as she lay sprawled in a drugged haze. She was certain that it was the food or water he had used to sedate her, but she was so famished that she didn’t even think of it as she’d devoured every morsel of the meat and vegetable stew and drank every last drop of room temperature water.
It could have been a day, or it could have been a week. In her jumbled up mind, it could even have been hours. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open. Weakness like she’d never felt before invaded her limbs, making them sluggish and loathe to respond. At one point, she tried to sit up, only to find that the best she could do was flop on to her side. The tears came then, and rarely halted, so that there was a slow, continuous stream of salt water dripping down to dampen the hard floor.
Memories once again invaded her mind, and she gave herself over to them willingly, for anywhere was better than here, even if it meant living in a figment of her own imagination. She felt as though she were suspended in time, floating amongst the driftwood of her subconscious, a witness to her own mixed-up life. She remembered her Den Father, strong and proud, the day he’d realized she was destined to take her place as a hunter for the pack. She’d been so sure of herself, and of her place in life. She snorted slightly as she remembered thinking how difficult her life had been. If only she’d known how much more difficult it could – and would – get.
She intentionally turned her thoughts away from such things, and instead chose to think of her parents. She wondered how Lissa had felt, running for her life, or how her father, Jake had felt dying for them all. Had he known the fate that would befall them, perhaps he would have fought a little harder. But that’s not fair, she thought. How can I judge him for falling to Bradley when I’ve gone and done the same thing, albeit in a different way. She was sure now that he intended to slake his desires – both for revenge, and for the desire of a woman she resembled – and then perhaps he would conveniently forget her. Leaving her down here in this dank hole of a place to die, starved and broken and afraid.
She flinched as the door creaked open an inch, trying to gather herself into a protective ball. There was no way she could resist him,
weak as she was, but that didn’t mean she had to roll over and play dead. “Beth?”
Her muscles complained as she tried to raise her head, but she managed to raise it just enough to see the man outlined in the doorway. “Beth...my God!”
“Donovan?” she rasped, her throat dry and her lips cracked. Fresh droplets of blood moistened her lips as she tried to smile. “Is it your turn to torment me?”
“To torm–” He cut off in a stream of expletives, shaking his head violently in denial. “Had I known before now that you were even alive, I would have come sooner.” His face fell. “I thought you were dead. We all did. If I hadn’t seen Father come down here with a tray of food I never would have guessed.”
His long legs ate the distance between them as he stalked toward her, rage plain on his handsome features. One hand held a water bottle, and the other was busy fisting his dark hair. “Here,” he whispered, swiftly removing the cap and offering her a drink.
Slowly, she shook her head, her hair falling over her eyes. “I’ve already been drugged enough, thank you.” Her words were slow and slurred, but Donovan understood and his eyes widened.
“Beth! I would never,” he began, quick to reassure her, but she was having none of it. “I swear to you, I’m here to help.”
“Help?” she whispered, as the darkness rose up to claim her. “You can’t help me. Nobody can.”
~~~~
When she finally opened her eyes again, Donovan was gone. She’d almost convinced herself that he’d been another figment of her drugged imagination when she found the water bottle, snugged tightly between the small of her back and the wall. He’d obviously left that here when he’d surmised what she’d already told him. He couldn’t help her.
Why would he even try? Guilt, perhaps or some form of rebellion against his psycho dad?
Feeling somewhat more her usual self – at least her vision remained steady, and her mind was clearer – she twisted herself into a half slouch, half sitting position and drank deeply of the water, replacing the bottle once she’d swallowed half of it. She must hide this. If she was right, and the drugs were in the water Bradley was providing, then this could be her only hope of escape.
Evidently, Bradley had been to check on her also, and had left another bowl of stew and a pottery mug of warm water. She sniffed dubiously at it, and the food, but could smell no trace of a sedative. If it were anything like the tea she’d made for her Guardian back home, she wouldn’t smell it anyway. This left her in a quandary. If she chose wrongly, she’d end up drugged again, and she desperately needed her mind clear if she were to think of a plan of escape.
She smiled tightly – the chances of escape seemed so slim to begin with that she thought she must be crazy. Sometimes, a little crazy can go a long way, she thought. If I can just think up a crazy enough plan. Just then, another problem arose. She desperately needed to relieve herself.
Think, she demanded of herself furiously. Just relax, and think. If she were constantly drugged and chained up, she would be forced to soil herself, and in fact would have no conscious knowledge of doing it. Looking down upon herself, she realized she already had. Grimacing, she accepted the only possible plan of action. She needed to rid herself of that drugged water, but if she were to spill it to the ground, Bradley would know. It was too cold, and the room too bare for it to soak in or dry up. Needs must, she thought.
First, she took the mug of water and poured it to look like she’d wet herself. And then she did wet herself, tears once again burning in her eyes as shame overwhelmed her. It was her only plan, it was even a good plan, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t ashamed of it.
That accomplished, she ate half the stew, thinking that if the drugs were in the food, rather than the water, she’d still hold on to some of her faculties. After what seemed like a tortuous wait, she was aware that her first instincts were correct. The food was clean. Her lips cracked again as she scooped the rest of the stew into her mouth, using her fingers as a spoon.
With a full stomach, and some clean water to drink thanks to Donovan, Beth began to feel much stronger. Perhaps not strong enough yet to shimmer. She just hoped time was on her side. Bradley didn’t appear to her the type of man who took his pleasures fast and furious - he seemed more the type to make it as long and drawn out as possible, prolonging his satisfaction.
~~~~
The door creaked open slowly as Beth lay on her side, breathing deep and evenly. If Bradley even suspected she wasn’t as intoxicated as she was supposed to be, she knew he’d kill her offhand. So she lay there, letting a thin stream of drool escape her slack mouth, as she pretended to be unconscious. The empty water bottle was still concealed between her and the wall, and she just hoped he didn’t take it upon himself to move her.
“Wake up, bitch,” he roared. “Time to play.”
He roughly grabbed her arm, shaking it like a dog with a bone, and she moaned, acting as though she were trying to come to, but not quite getting there. “I probably should reduce your dosage,” he said thoughtfully, before letting her arm drop. “I want you alert and terrified when I come to play with you,” he finished in a growl.
Beth wondered why he didn’t already smell her terror. Even though she tried as hard as she could to keep her pulse steady and slow, it still beat much faster than it should if she were drugged. He seemed so lost in his revenge that he was ignoring blatant warning signs. She cracked her eyes and seen him looming over her, a look of disgust on his face when he noticed her damp clothing. “Not very attractive, my dear. I’ll have to clean you up, first. Maybe that will wake you up a little.” He grinned evilly and rubbed his palms together slowly, the sound making Beth’s ears twitch. “I’ll be right back,” he told her conversationally.
He left the cell, not bothering to lock the door behind him, and Beth realized this was it, this was her chance, probably her only chance. She’d avoided his drugged water twice now, and though she was far from tip-top condition, she felt sure she could shimmer and run. And that was all she needed to do. Run. If she could get back home before he caught her, she would have the protection of her pack. Wouldn’t she? The idea crossed her mind that they might turn her away, refuse to help her, tell her she wasn’t pack anymore and that her Alpha could do as he pleased with her, but she thrust those thoughts aside. David would help her, if all others refused. She was sure of that much.
It wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped, and at one point she did indeed think she was going to get stuck half way, but she finally managed to shimmer. Her wolf-form broke the surface and her human body, with all its frailties slipped away along with the cuffs. Wriggling out of her human clothes was just as difficult and she twisted a paw in the process when she got it caught in a strap, but she had done it. She was free. She was also fully alert and ready to run.
Sniffing as she slipped through the gap in the doorway, she determined that Bradley wasn’t far away. A long corridor was laid out before her, doorways dotted on either side. She heard a splashing noise up ahead, and saw that another door was slightly ajar. Bradley was evidently preparing a bath for her. Moving as quickly as she could while trying to remain quiet was aided by the fact that the corridor was covered in several layers of dirt and debris. She paused as the splashing stopped, with her heart in her throat. The bath was ready. She could smell the aromatic oils he’d poured into the water, and could hear his footsteps scuffling around the room.
Darting ahead, she barely managed to clear the doorway before Bradley swept through it, whistling merrily. Belly low to the floor, she stilled, and hoped against hope that he didn’t bother to look in her direction. Her prayers were answered when he sauntered toward the only other open door in sight. Her cell. Before he reached the door, she’d crept up to the far end of the corridor and found a stairway to her right, leading up. With her heart thumping a terrified rhythm, she took the steps as swiftly as she was able, scrabbling once as her paws slipped off the edge of a stair.
At the top was another
door, and this one was closed tightly. Mind in a whirl, she shimmered, finding it came easier to her this time around. In a matter of seconds she was through the door and into the house beyond. It was the Great House – not that she’d thought otherwise. Where else would he have built his little dungeon only under the roof of his own home, the better to have access to whomever he kept in those rotting cells. Her bare feet slipped on the tiled floor of the kitchen, as she made a bee-line for the back door. Hearing an almighty roar echoing from the cells below, she knew she was out of time. She had to get out of here, now.
Once she was through the door, there was no reason to stay in human-form, so she shimmered and took off, setting a hard pace. By the time she heard him crashing through the splintered remains of his own back door, she was zooming past the stream and entering the clearing beyond. A growl alerted her to the fact that he was gaining on her fast. As she swerved to avoid a tree stump, she caught him in her peripheral vision, no further than ten yards behind, his anger fueling his speed. For her part, terror made her run fast, but it also made her stupid. She stumbled on exposed roots, and tripped over a fallen log, crashing into the undergrowth in a pile of limbs. She yelped once, loudly and heard Bradley howl as he closed even more of the distance.
Regaining her footing, she took off into the woods, praying for the twilight to last long enough to help disguise her as she fled. In darkness or light, her coat shone too brightly, but in the mixed up world of twilight, where everything seemed tinged with blue or lavender, she could blend in amongst the surroundings. Eventually she had to rest, panting and over-heated. She took a quick drink from the stream and tried to orient herself. She’d been running flat out for at least an hour now, and the surroundings all seemed the same.
Somewhere to the left a twig snapped loudly and she knew Bradley wasn’t far away. Turning tail, she started to run again. Having no idea what directions she was taking, only fleeing from every sign of pursuit, she was shocked to realize she was headed for that same fallen log she’d jumped over twice already. Damn it, she’d been running in circles, herded like cattle, or prey. She’d played directly into Bradley’s hands, and now, tired and despairing, he closed in on her.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 181