Now she sat alone in the metal cage again, her wrists aching from restraints while cold seeped through the concrete floor beneath her. She needed to think because panic wouldn’t save her. Buck’s voice echoed through her head again.
You’re smart.
Wren inhaled slowly through her nose and forced herself to focus on her surroundings instead of fear. The warehouse was massive and old. Rusted support beams stretched high overhead while dim industrial lights buzzed weakly every few yards. Crates lined the far walls. Fuel drums sat stacked near loading bays. And near the southern corner, vehicles were parked. There were three trucks, one black SUV, and a snowcat.
Wren shifted carefully inside the cage, pretending to curl tighter into herself while she watched through lowered lashes. She’d spent years tracking wolves through brutal terrain. Observation came naturally to her now. She noted that there were three armed men near the main loading doors, onepatrolling the upper catwalk every fifteen minutes, and another stationed near the vehicles. They weren’t randomly placed throughout the warehouse—they were organized.
A loud metallic bang echoed nearby, and Wren looked up. A younger woman stumbled through a side door carrying a box nearly bigger than she was. Dark bruises covered one side of her face, and Wren’s stomach dropped. The girl looked terrified. She was probably about nineteen—twenty at most. One of the armed men barked something cruel at her while she hurried across the warehouse floor with her head down. Rage hit Wren hard enough to burn through the fear. Those missing women—they were real. Before, they had only been rumors and theories, but now she knew that was just her way of protecting herself from the truth. They were real people trapped in places like this while monsters moved them across borders like cargo.
The girl glanced toward the cage briefly and froze as recognition flashed across her face instantly. Not recognition of Wren herself, but for some odd reason—of hope. It was the kind of hope that people got when they saw someone new who was still fighting.
One of the guards seemed to notice. “Keep moving,” he growled. The girl flinched hard and hurried away. Wren clenched her fists helplessly. It was at that moment that she knew that she wasn’t leaving any of these women behind—not if she survived this.
Footsteps echoed toward her again, and she knew that it was Eli. Wren straightened instinctively as he approached the cage, carrying a bottle of water and a sandwich wrapped in plastic. He crouched outside the bars casually. “Eat.”
Wren stared at him coldly. “Go to hell.”
Eli sighed dramatically. “You know, I liked you better unconscious.”
“Likewise,” she spat. A grin tugged briefly at his mouth. Wren hated that he seemed so comfortable here, like this place belonged to him now.
“Buck really got under your skin, huh?” Eli asked lightly. Wren’s pulse betrayed her immediately.
“You don’t have to answer, sweetheart. Your silence tells me everything,” Eli said.
Wren glared harder. “You don’t know anything.”
“No?” Eli leaned closer to the bars. “I know Buck looked at you like he’d already buried bodies for you.” His eyes darkened slightly. “And Ghost?” He laughed softly. “Never thought I’d see the day he cared about anybody again.” The words hit harder than she wanted them to because she’d seen it too. The way that Ghost hid concern behind jokes, and Buck touched her like she was something fragile and precious at the same time.
Wren swallowed hard. “They’re going to kill you.”
Eli’s smile was mean. “Probably.” His easy acceptance unsettled her. “But not before tomorrow night.” He leaned back slightly. “That’s the fun part.”
Wren’s stomach twisted again. “What happens tomorrow night?”
Eli studied her carefully. “You really don’t know how important you are, do you?”
“I’m a wildlife specialist,” she said. “How does that make me important?”
“No.” Eli pointed toward her. “You’re the woman who accidentally mapped every active trafficking route through northern Manitoba.” Cold dread slithered through her chest. He had to be talking about the strange travel paths of the wolves that she’d flagged weeks ago. She had no idea that she was mapping trafficking routes.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
Eli nodded slowly. “See, the Vultures were smart. Wolves cross borders naturally, and nobody questions strange movement patterns during migration season.” He shrugged. “Until you started tracking anomalies.”
Wren felt sick. “How many routes?”
“Enough to make people very rich,” Eli said as though he was boasting.
“And the women,” she croaked, “what happened to them?”
Eli’s expression flattened slightly. “It’s business, sweetheart, not personal.”
Rage exploded through her. “They’re human beings!”
One of the guards glanced over sharply at her raised voice. Eli only watched her calmly. “That’s exactly why Buck likes you.” The mention of him hurt unexpectedly, and Wren looked away quickly. “You really care about them,” he said softly.
Heat crept briefly into her cheeks despite everything. Even now, trapped in a cage surrounded by traffickers, she couldn’t stop thinking about them. Buck’s rough hands and Ghost’s teasing grin. Remembering how the moment sitting between them had somehow felt right was the only thing that was keeping her going right now. They were worth fighting for, and that was exactly what she planned on doing.
