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“Who are you?” I retorted.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to ask me questions.”

I rolled my eyes, glancing around to find soap. Frowning, I lifted a clay-colored bar. It was nothing like my favorite rose and frankincense scented soap.

“Why are you questioning me and not the alpha?” I asked.

It was hard to make out over the scent of pine, but there was a strange emotion circulating the air. I couldn’t quite figure it out. It wasn’t anger or even curiosity. It was something raw.

“He’s away on pack duties,” he said after a while. “I act in his place.”

Fair enough. “Where am I?”

Silence. I finished scrubbing my skin and set the soap aside on the wall shelf. I pulled on the rope again to turn off the water and stepped out, dripping wet, my usually wild hair hanging limp over my breasts. There was a knock on the door, and the beta said, “Leave it there.”

I frowned, confused as I wrapped my arms around my body.

The lycan hurried to the door, cracking it open slightly and bending to retrieve something. He threw a large piece of linen from the stack of fabric in his arms, and I caught it, my sore shoulders throbbing.

“Dry off and put this on,” he said. He set the stack down on the sink and stood near the door, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes never leaving mine.

I dried my skin in silence. Did he only let me clean up so that his pack could have at me? Was he going to ritually sacrifice me? Did lycans do that shit? I lifted a dress from the top of the stack and eyed it with disgust. “I can’t wear this,” I said.

The beta lifted a brow as if to ask, are you kidding me?

With a sigh, I threw it on over my body and tugged it down. My still wet hair dripped onto the material.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Aura,” I said, leaving out any other familial names. The news of a Nygaard getting out this way would not be pleasant.

“Do you have a family name?”

“No.”

He tilted his head, and I knew he was looking at my pointed ears. I was a Primal Born; of course I had a family.

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

His lips formed a line, nostrils flaring. He must’ve scented the truth in me because something like confusion crossed his face, and he let his arms fall to his side. “Drugged?”

“Perhaps.”

“No …” He stepped closer, scratching his neat beard. “Not drugged, but you truly don’t remember. Knocked unconscious, maybe? Sabotaged?”

I clenched my fists at my side, my patience running out. “What part of I don’t know do you not fucking get? Now either you kill me, or let me go. I’ll stay away from your precious pack and your precious … wherever the fuck this is. Just let me get going before daylight.”

His gaze dropped down to my hand then back up to my face. “You’re not wearing a daylight ring.”

Oh shit … That would be suspicious for a vampire of any origin. “No, so if you would please⁠—”

He marched to the door, yanking it open. I rushed to step through and followed him back the way we came. This time, there were a few other shifters lounging in the main room. The tension was unsettling, but no one spoke a word as the beta led me out of the house. He remained silent, his wide feet swishing in the grass, his lips a focused line. It was still the dead of night. “Where am I?” I asked again. “I need to know if I’m to get back home.”

“Sublune Creek.”

The closest to the border, at least. I let out a sigh.