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“Wait, stop! I won’t fight, I will be good,” I tell him, not wanting to be drugged again.

I need to find a way out of this situation and there is no way for me to survive him if I can’t fight back.

Sam stares at me. “You’re not trying to trick me, are you? I will be very angry if you are, Ada,” he says, and I manage to shake my head.

“You try anything and you will be punished, Ada. I will drug you and keep you locked in this room, understood?” he says, looking down at me, and my stomach twists painfully at what I am about to let him do, all for the sake of escaping.

They will forgive me. They will have to understand, right? I ask myself, thinking of my mates and what they would think of the situation I am in. I should have listened to their warnings about Sam. I suddenly wish I was back home, tucked safely away with them; at least they won’t hurt me or subject me to this.

Sam pulls the needle out, and I sigh in relief that he isn’t going to drug me before he moves me up to the center of the bed.

“Now you behave, and I will take good care of you,” he says, brushing my hair off my face before kissing me.

I clench my eyes shut, praying that it will be over quickly. Praying for some miracle that they’ll find me.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Cyrus

Nine days. It has been nine days since we last saw her and nine days since we touched her. We know she is alive, though. We are sometimes getting flickers of her emotions from her, only fleeting and only every now and then when whatever he is giving her is wearing off between doses. Sam is either not monitoring when he is giving it to her, or she has been convincing him she doesn’t need it, because we have managed to pick up faint traces of her whereabouts. Yet everywhere we searched, we would lose the pull to her before getting an exact location, always pulled to the outskirts of the city before we would lose her again.

Hopping out of the car, Eli is talking to the helicopter pilot. Pete climbs into the helicopter, putting on some head gear as they get ready to do an aerial search. We watch the helicopter rotors spin before it lifts off the ground. We are next to a forest. Hunters are scouring the dense surroundings; for some reason, every time we manage to feel her, we are pulled in this direction, but the weather has been too terrible to get the helicopter in the air to search from above. We have been scouring all around the forest’s edge for the past two days but now we are desperate, her fear growing stronger as the days pass.

A hunter walks over, showing Eli a map. I listen as they talk about which areas to search first. The hunter nods in agreement before walking off to tell the others, and I watch as they start walking into the tree line, guns holstered and backpacks on their backs.

Eli walks over to me, and I stand up, taking his clothes from him as he hands them to me. He strips completely naked, and I put his clothes on the passenger seat before shutting the door.

“We will find her. We won’t stop till we do,” he says before grabbing the back of my neck and crushing his lips against mine.

Eli then shifts, his magnificent black beast staring back at me before he starts sniffing the air, looking for traces of her scent though there aren’t any. He walks toward the tree line, and we step in, my eyes adjusting to the change in lighting, the forest so dark from the canopying trees despite it being the middle of the day. We start trekking through the forest in the opposite direction the hunter has gone. I follow Eli, remaining alert for her but also other predators, though I know Eli will take any down if they cross our path; his beast is the size of a bear and stands over half my height, packed full of hard muscle. Killing is easy for him; there is nothing in this forest he can’t handle. We have spent most of the morning walking and scouring and aren’t even a quarter of the way through this part of the forest; it appears to be never-ending, only trees and shrubs. The thick smell of the damp earth filling my nose makes it crinkle in disgust. I love nature, but under the trees and so far in, the ground smells pungent and too sweet, the earth decaying under our feet from not getting sunlight.

The radio in my back pocket makes a noise. The static is terrible, and Eli stops, looking at me as I pull it out. I turn the dials on top, trying to pick up a better frequency and hear what Pete is saying from above.

“Smoke,” I just make out, and Eli’s wolf comes closer, listening.

He sniffs the air, but it is pointless. The only thing I can smell is the damp earth and the sap off the trees.

“Smoke among the trees appears to be coming from a small cottage,” I manage to hear before the signal drops.

I try strengthening the signal but lose it. I want to know what direction to head in, but all I get is radio silence.

Eli growls and continues walking, picking up his pace as he tries to pick up any scent to indicate we are going in the right direction. Moving deeper and deeper into the forest, I stop looking among the trees, which appear to be thinning slightly, before noticing something. Something with coloring feels off—too bright for this dark forest.

“Eli!” I call, and he looks up and comes over to me.

“You see that?” I ask, pointing in the direction, wondering if my mind is playing tricks on me.

He nods, sniffing the air before growling loudly and moving to it. I walk closer just as he approaches. What I thought at first were shrubs is actually a camouflage net. Eli grabs it with his teeth before walking backward. The net comes off, and the branches fall away to reveal a little white Daihatsu Charade. I pull on the handle, but it is locked. Using my elbow, I smash the window. Her scent instantly hits me though it is faint. I look around before walking to the back of the car and pushing through the trees. I find a dirt road, and where the car is stopped is a dead end, but I can’t see any cottage, only trees and dirt.

* * *

Adeline

I watch as he places the needle on the nightstand beside the bed. My arms and legs tingle as I slowly get some sensation back. The last couple of days have been a thing of nightmares, but I have managed to convince him to trust me. He only drugs me before he puts me to bed, letting me move around during the day as long as he is beside me. I just hope it is enough. Enough to get out of this situation though I know I am still pretty much helpless. I am weak from the constant torment he’s subjected me to. My body is littered with bruises, and my skin is more purple than beige. My eye slowly heal from where he’s punched me. The bruise’s turned yellow as it covers half my face, but I can now open my eye.

Sam rummages through the drawer, looking for something. The needle next to him is a constant reminder of who holds the control here; he always has one ready in case I become difficult. He pulls out some pajama bottoms and a singlet along with some socks.

“Put these on. It’s a little chilly this morning. I will go start the fire,” he says, walking out of the room and taking the syringe with him.