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Either way, I needed to find a way out of the cabin, away from the pack and its awful, uncaring Alpha.
Movement outside caught my attention. I sat up quickly and moved to the window. Two wolves stood just a few yards from the house. They were laughing and chatting with one another the way friends would. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I could faintly hear the sound of their voices through the window. I couldn’t tell if they were there to watch over me or if they were just local pack members out for a stroll.
Seizing the opportunity to find some help, I rushed to the bathroom and turned on the sink. I lathered up my hands with soap and rushed back. Returning to the window, I wrote H-E-L-P in blocky, easily read letters. I did this over and over again, hoping the soapy residue would leave enough of an imprint that it would stand out against the clear glass. I didn’t know what would become of this attempt, but I had to try, didn’t I? Maybe someone would see the message and help me out.
After tracing the same letters over and over again until my arm started to go numb, I stepped away from the window with a sigh. Another idea struck me as I turned toward the pile of clothes on the floor. I could jam them under the door. It wouldn’t stop a wolf from entering, but it might slow them down long enough for me to at least ready myself. I gathered the clothes together and shoved them under the door, making sure to pack them in. By the time I was done, my already exhausted muscles throbbed, and my heart was pounding hard. I felt wired and unsettled.
I wasn’t a wolf, but that didn’t mean that a male wolf wouldn’t sneak in and force himself on me the same way Troy had planned to. Not knowing what they planned to do to me here sent a fresh wave of fear down my spine, and I returned to the door, pounding against it and screaming out horrible threats that I knew I couldn’t back up. I returned to the window too, but the wolves below had already wandered away.
Tears filled my eyes and poured down my cheeks as the gravity of my situation hit me again. I was stuck here for the night. As much as I hated Troy and the way that most of my pack treated me, I was desperate to be home, to sleep in my own bed, and to know that Mom was watching over me. It seemed so ridiculous that I had ever tried to leave everything I knew when the unfamiliar was this terrifying. Who’s to say that humans would treat me any better than this?
I wrapped my arms tight around myself and sank down to the floor. Life on the Kings’ compound was awful, nigh unbearable. But I thought it was far, far better to deal with the enemy you knew than the strangers who kept you locked in a bedroom after kidnapping you from the only home you’d ever known.
15
BRYN
I woke up the next morning to a knock on the door. I groaned and rolled on my side away from the noise. For a few precious moments, I believed I was safe and sound in my own bed, but the smell of the detergent used on the sheets caused me to quickly open my eyes. The first thing I laid eyes on was the message I’d left in the glass. H-E-L-P.
I slowly sat up. Now that I was moving around, I could feel how sore my muscles were. I didn’t even remember getting into bed last night, but the clothes I’d packed under the door were still there, so I must have crawled into bed on my own.
The knock sounded again, and my head snapped toward it. It occurred to me then how strange it was for the visitor to knock before entering the room of a prisoner. If they were courteous enough to do that, would they leave if I didn’t say anything? My hands tightened around the comforter as I waited.
Eventually, the lock turned, and the visitor pushed on the door. My gaze dropped to the clothes I’d jammed beneath the door. Would it make a difference? To my surprise, the clothes did halt the visitor. With a slight grunt, they pushed harder on the door and slowly slid it open. As the visitor came into view, I relaxed slightly. It wasn’t a man—it was the woman who Night had embraced the day before.
The woman looked down at the clothes with a raised brow. “That’s pretty resourceful, girlie. If you packed them in more tightly, I think even my son would have a bit of trouble getting it open.”
I pulled my legs into my chest and said nothing. My guard was up. If Night trusted this woman, it was unlikely that she would be any help to me.
I watched the woman step inside and close the door behind her. The roll of clothes was no longer packed beneath the door, so it slid shut more easily. She was beautiful and looked to be in her early fifties. Her thick, snow-white hair was collected into one long braid down her back. She was slender and graceful, and she had eyes that were just as green and vibrant as Night’s.
At the scent of something savory, my gaze lowered to the woman’s hands. She’d brought a glass of water and a bowl of rice, and what looked like some kind of thick sauce or curry. The smell was divine, especially after four days straight of eating small rabbits and berries. My mouth began to water.
“I’m Violet Shepherd,” the woman said. From the way she smiled, she didn’t seem offended by my silence. “I guess you could say that I’m responsible for the man who brought you here.”
Oh. She’s his mother. My eyes narrowed wearily. Violet had a calming presence, one that reminded me a bit of Mom, but I wouldn’t let her sway me. It was becoming increasingly likely that this woman might turn out to be my enemy, just like Night.
“Your name is Bryn, right?” Violet asked, stepping a few inches closer to the bed. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
I scooted away from her. “Is it poisoned? I don’t see you eating any of it.”
“Poison?” Violet chuckled. “No, sweetie. There isn’t a person in the village who wants to see you dead.”
I hesitated. I needed to be smarter, but the smell of the hot dish was getting to me. And within seconds, my growling stomach gave away how badly I wanted that food. When Violet offered it to me, I pulled it close and spooned the dish into my mouth. My initial suspicions were correct; it was a rabbit curry with white rice. The dish was full of flavor and spice that spread across my tongue like a warm hug. It was exactly the kind of food I wanted after such a long trek through the wilderness.
As I ate, Violet walked around the room, tutting about the sparse furnishings. She was mumbling under her breath, and all I caught was, “…such a shame…keeping a girl against her will.”
I glanced from Violet to the door. If Violet was in here, the door must have been unlocked. I wondered if the woman had come alone, and if so, was I willing to attempt to tackle the older woman to try and escape?
“I understand why you might think my son is a monster,” Violet’s voice took my attention away from the door. “But he isn’t. He’s just…had a tough life, and there’s a great deal of responsibility on his shoulders.”
Annoyance was a sharp spike at the back of my head. “I mean no offense, ma’am, but I don’t think I want to hear about the man who kidnapped me.”
Violet didn’t seem offended, but she did give me a curious stare. “Didn’t he save you from a man who was about to take your innocence and your future away from you?”
I winced inwardly. “He did, but then he refused to let me go back home.”
Violet still held the water. When she caught me looking at it, she approached the bed and sat at the foot of it, reaching over to hand me the glass. I set down the empty bowl and drank. Water had never tasted cooler or more refreshing than it did then.
