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“It makes you a good one. You’re strong, fair, and honest. You put the needs of the pack above your own. They snuck up on you in a moment when the bond had you under its spell. Any of us would have been distracted at that moment. Then the spineless bastards shot you and incapacitated you. They knew you’d rip them to pieces if they didn’t. So don’t beat yourself to shreds. Hell, I felt the bond and I would’ve been useless if I was there as well.” He runs across the yard to catch up with me, not once winded by it, keeping his voice calm.
“Ready to run?” I ask him, before allowing my wolf to take control and bring on the shift.
I feel the transformation begin as my bones break and shift, molding into the form my wolf needs. Dropping down to the ground on all four paws, I let out a howl before taking off in a sprint into the woods, Hunter close on my heels.
We ran for hours, and not one threat was detected. No scents of anyone who didn’t belong. Heading to the north, I make sure to run by and check on Chelle, ensuring no harm is near her. The wolves entrusted with her protection were all on high alert, making me happy.
It’s close to sunrise when I finally call it a night. I’m exhausted, but my wolf wants to keep going. We’ve run the perimeter of the pack lands more times than I can count, and I still feel like there’s a danger out there lurking somewhere that I just can’t shake. But I need to know what Miles has found out. Hopefully, something that can help us so we can save her, save them all. There’s no way she would forgive me if I rescued her and left Beba and Maverick there. Fuck it, we have to save the others.
My wolf slows his pace the closer we get to the house. Hunter had gone home a few hours ago, but I still had energy to burn. As I approach the house, I see Hunter seated on the swing on the back porch, coffee cup in hand with one sitting on the table waiting for me.
Reaching the porch, I quickly shift, then take my clothes from the chair and dress.
Picking up the cup from the table, I take a sip, allowing the heat to soothe my throat; it’s always scratchy and irritated after a shift.
“Any news?” I ask gruffly.
“Yeah. He cracked the code a couple of hours ago, and I made him go get some rest. He’s got his alarm set for a few hours from now. And before you say anything, you’re not waking him. Go shower and grab a couple of hours yourself. You may be Alpha and my older brother, but you’re going to fucking listen. You’re no good to any of us if you're exhausted. You need a clear head and you don’t have that now.” He fucking scolds me like a parent to a disrespectful child.
Turning my back to him, I open the back door and step inside. Standing at the kitchen counter long enough to drink some more coffee, and wait to see if he has anything else he wants to tear into my ass about. But he stays outside. Setting the half-empty cup down, I slowly make my way to the stairs and haul my ass up to bed.
As much as I hate it, he’s right, I need to rest.
Chapter 6
Shay
Waking,I’mallalonein bed again, my pussy aching from the amount of activity it had. My head knows it's okay. I was with Mav, even though it was the result of drugs. Having sex with him is never anything I will regret, but I’m pissed at his father for the way it went down. Mav must be in agony, thinking I’m going to hate him. Even though I was in a sex-crazed fog I remember him saying it over and over, even as we finally fell asleep in each other arms.
I need him, to hold him, comfort him and tell him it’ll be okay. The only saving grace in the whole thing is knowing that my sweet baby girl isn’t here. He doesn’t know she’s Mav’s daughter. Which is a blessing, and now I need to keep it that way. I don’t care if I have to resign myself to stay here and become whatever the monster wants. Her safety is the most important thing to me. I know without a shadow of a doubt the guys will do everything in their power to protect her, even to their dying breath.
The urge to pee has me slowly sitting up as my head pounds. Sitting for a moment, I try to get my bearings as the room spins. Thankfully, they have removed one of the wrist cuffs from me and lengthened the chain on the other, as well as the ones around my ankles, so I’m able to reach the portable toilet chair placed in the room.
I feel degraded using it, especially not knowing when someone is just going to walk into the room. Thankfully, no one does and I’m able to handle my toilet needs in private. Well, as private as I can be, because I have a nagging feeling there’s a camera in this room somewhere watching my every move. I’m sure his father rubbed a few out to our little show last night. The thought of that has my stomach revolting, and I reach for the wastebasket on the floor, emptying the contents of my stomach into it.
Once done, I sit it down and hope someone comes to take it away soon before the stench makes me hurl again. Moving back to the bed, I sit on the edge, take the bottle of water sitting on the nightstand, and chug half the contents of it down. Whether or not that was a smart choice I’ll know sooner or later. Hopefully, it was free of any drugs.
There’s a light rap on the door.
That's a first. Since when do you knock on a prisoner's door?
It opens slowly, and a young girl, hell, she barely looks eighteen, steps into the room with a tray in her hand. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and her shoulders are hunched, her eyes wide with fear. She makes her way timidly across the room to where I am and places it on the nightstand. Turning to me, she forces a smile.
“I brought your breakfast,” she whispers, her hands shaking as she lets go of the tray. “I will be back shortly to take your dishes and empty your waste for you.” She keeps moving her eyes between me and the plate on the tray unless I’m imagining it. It’s like she’s trying to tell me something but not alert anyone who may be watching.
“Thank you,” I reply, not wanting to give her away if she is indeed trying to help me.
She just nods her head in response and quickly turns, scurrying from the room, shutting the door behind her as she goes. Replaying her movements, I realize she kept her back turned to the far wall by what I assume to be the closet. I casually look around, intentionally trying not to move my head, only my eyes, and that’s when I spot it. The one shelf on the wall with any semblance of trying to look homey has a couple of pictures on it, a vase, and a teddy bear. Odd choices to have displayed, especially when the pictures are the kind you buy in the store that still has the generic pictures inside them.
That’s where the camera is! Somehow, it has to be in or on one of those items.
Not knowing what she was trying to tell me, I needed to find out but also be in a position so that the cameras couldn't see it. Standing, I place my body in front of the nightstand. On first look, I see nothing that would draw my attention. Picking up the plate, I notice a small slip of paper. Clutching it in my hand, I keep it tucked under the plate so no one can see. I pick the silverware up with my other hand and crawl onto the bed and take a seat. Pulling the blanket around me, leaving a small hole so I can drop the slip of paper into it to read later. The whole time praying nothing looked suspicious, and no one saw anything.
The plate was filled with a small portion of scrambled eggs, some grits, and three slices of bacon. Not my favorite, well the bacon was, but when you’re hungry, you’ll eat anything you can get your hands on. I take a few bites, then reach back and take the glass of orange juice off the tray and take a sip. Right now, I’d kill for some fucking coffee. But his asshat of a father probably wouldn’t give me anything hot I could potentially use as a weapon.
I’m not sure how much time passed when the gentle knock came on the door again before she opened it and stepped back inside. She carried a bucket with some cleaning supplies this time. She pulls on some cleaning gloves before taking the insert from the portable chair and dumping the contents of it into the wastebasket that held my vomit. She takes some disinfectant spray and douses it in it before wiping it down with a washcloth, then takes a clear plastic bag and places it inside, wrapping the edges over the edges of the insert and placing it back in the chair. Turning nervously towards me, her face blushing, she explains why. “It’s for an easier clean up when you… well, you know.”
She didn’t need to say anything more. I knew exactly what she meant, and I didn’t want to discuss it either. Hell, even the idea of someone cleaning up that most personal of things had me turning red with embarrassment. She quickly picks up the waste basket and exits the room, leaving the door open.
