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It’s surreal. I would give anything in the world to deny that this is happening. That it’s only a nightmare. The glare behind me sinks deep into my back and I remember his wish: calm her down.
“Lizzie!” I have to shout at the top of my lungs for her to hear me. When she doesn’t respond, I yell her name again. It doesn’t stop the wretchedness that wreaks havoc inside of me.
“Lizzie!” She stops shrieking for a moment and looks at me with frightened, glossy eyes as she grabs me with the half embrace that she can manage, yet with such force that I’m surprised I don’t fall over. As soon as she’s quiet, stifling her sobs in the crook of my neck, the shifter holding her gently places her feet on the ground. She nearly collapses as her spiked black heels scrabble to find purchase on the stage. I’m vaguely aware that the people watching us are a mix of emotions. Some are crying, while others have started screaming. But all I can really focus on are Lizzie’s whimpers.
A force flows through me; I need to try and say something to calm her. It’s like a wave, but I stop it. My body stiffens as I feel the werewolf from earlier approach me from behind. His hand comes down and lands on my shoulder. At first he squeezes firmly, causing me to go rigid, but then his hold loosens and his thumb starts rubbing soothing circles against my nape. I blink away the haze of fear and confusion to look up past Lizzie, who still has her head buried in the crook of my neck. She hasn’t stopped crying hysterically.
“It’s okay,” I say. The words rush out of me even though I know it’s a lie. My breath is warm in the air between us and my heart pounds in my chest so hard I can hardly hear myself.
I hold her tighter when I see the face of the werewolf behind her. He’s staring at me with darkness in his eyes, like I’ve stolen his prey. I suppose that’s exactly what I’ve done. His chiseled jaw is covered with dark brown stubble and his narrowed eyes are silver, but beyond that he looks human. He would look utterly breathtaking if he could turn his scowl into something less menacing. At his stern expression I take a step back, survival instincts warning me to take flight, but I’m prevented from escaping by the shifter holding me tight from behind. We’re trapped. Lizzie looks up at me when I flinch at the thought. My eyes dart from hers to the silver stare of the wolf behind her. My body goes rigid as two hands grip my hips to steady me.
“Follow him and bring her with you,” the dominating man behind me whispers and again I feel his hot breath tickle my neck as his lips brush against my ear. He releases me without another word and I try to walk while supporting the bulk of Lizzie’s weight. We stumble and I almost fall, but the strong hands behind me reach out to steady us before forcing me forward. My chest heaves and my body shakes when I realize I’m going to lose Lizzie forever. They’re using me to calm her down and lead her to some unknown fate.
“No,” I whisper in defiance. “You can’t take her.” I try to protest, but the hand is strong and then something else, something I’m not able to fight, grips ahold of me.
My breathing falters and I immediately feel light-headed. I can’t. I can’t do that to her.
The last thing I hear before my vision goes black is Lizzie’s scream.
Grace
Waking up with a pillow under my head and a soft, warm blanket around me isn’t what I expect when my eyes shoot open. Part of me believes it was all a nightmare until the reality pieces itself together around me. The rumbling of a car is my first clue and with the fine leather under my hand, I know I must be lying across the back seat. After a moment I ascertain that it’s moving fairly quickly and I’m alone in the back of whatever—and whoever’s—vehicle this is. Opening my eyes warily to chance a peek at my surroundings proves that I’m right.
No! My heart races and I can barely breathe.
“I bet he’s pissed,” a darkly spoken voice says in a hushed whisper.
“About not being in this car?” another male voice answers. There’s a pause and then he continues. “The other one hurt herself. He had to stay with her.”
Lizzie. Scrambling to keep still and not panic, I try to recount everything. No, she can’t be hurt, she can’t be. The need to scream out her name is suffocating as I choke on the syllables.
“Do you really think we should have split them up?” a gruff voice asks more casually from the front seat after a quiet moment. I go completely still at the sound. The other man merely snorts in response. Inwardly, I know I need to get a grip. They took me. My heart races. Where’s Lizzie? She can’t be hurt. Please don’t let her be hurt. Tears prick at my eyes, but I will them away. I don’t want the men to hear me crying. I need to be quiet.
“Fuck no we shouldn’t have split them up.” They both let out low, rough chuckles. My body shakes and it takes everything in me to stay still.
“At least we got the calm one.”
“I hope she stays that way. They’ll be settled in a bit and everything will be just fine.”
Through barely opened eyes, I watch the dark figure in the passenger seat nod his head.
“You hear that back there?” My gut wrenches and my breath halts in my lungs. My eyes widen but I instantly shut them and pretend to still be asleep.
“Your heart’s pounding so loud that I’m sure everyone in the car behind us can hear it, Grace.” More rough chuckles follow this statement. I swallow and my sore throat protests the movement. My nails scratch slowly on the seat. They speak as if it’s all a joke. Anger mixes in with the fear but still, terror overrides everything.
I reluctantly open my eyes and the man in the passenger seat looks back at me. I open my mouth to speak, but the only thing I can say comes out as a whisper. “Lizzie?” There’s a pleading in my voice that’s undeniable and I hate it, but I wouldn’t change it.
“She’s fine. She’s in the car behind us with our Alpha. He had to calm her down when none of us could. You have a strong friend.” The man looks at me kindly while he answers me in a reassuring voice. No, not man. The werewolf. I must look ridiculous to him, huddled under the blanket. I grip the fuzzy fabric tighter and break eye contact to stare at the floor.
It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this, lonely and scared. Helpless and terrified. A while … but I remember how to deal with it. If I got through that, I’ll damn sure get through this.
“I’m going to see my friend again?” I question in a staggered breath and then quickly add, “Soon?”
“Of course,” he says. The answer is immediate, and relief weakens every bit of me. I struggle to keep it together as he continues, “I was going to sit back there with you, but I thought you might like some space.” His tone is light, bordering on friendly. When his stare doesn’t let up, I give a small, hesitant nod in agreement. Gratitude is a funny thing to be feeling at the moment.
“Thought so.” He shifts in his seat, but from my periphery I can tell he’s still watching me. If I wasn’t so terrified, I could think. I could make a plan. As it is, I’m entirely numb.
“You must have some questions.” This time it’s the driver who speaks.
