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I knelt down, tried a few more keys and moved them around until I heard another click. This time, I’d open the door slowly and not just fling it recklessly open.
I stood back up and slowly eased open the door. Before I could get it even halfway, my wrist was grabbed in an iron-like grip that made me cry out in shock and pain. Then whoever had me twisted that wrist up behind my back, threw a muscular arm around my neck and pulled me back into a rock-like body so hard that for a moment I was stunned.
****
Wyatt
It was cold and damp as usual that night in the dungeon room we were locked in, with only a small slit of a window to show whether it was day or night outside. It was still dark, which meant that yet another day had passed in this miserable cell the bastard baron was keeping us in.
Winter was coming on fast and with no heat in this place, I didn’t think we’d last long. We’d have probably starved to death by now if not for the young girl who brought us scraps from the baron’s table. It was never enough, but I thought she wasn’t supposed to bring us even that much. There was sometimes stale, hard bread that his soldiers would bring and throw inside, so I think his plan had been to feed us nothing but a little bread and water to weaken us, but the girl, at least, still had a soul left. She kept slipping us small scraps of meat and sometimes potatoes or other vegetable pieces to supplement that, but it was never enough, and we still went hungry. Still, the pain didn’t gnaw at us quite as badly, and none of us were ill yet. It was only a matter of time before the baron wondered why we weren’t dying fast enough, though, and then he’d no doubt come to finish the job.
I was worried about Brandon, who said he hadn’t been quite unconscious when they came to haul him and Asher out of the dining room after they’d been drugged, and he’d tried to fight back. One of the soldiers had hit him on the head, and I think he’d sustained a concussion. He had bad headaches ever since waking up in this place and was frequently nauseated. If and when he did eat, he threw up most of it, and it had been almost a month since his attack.
As for weapons, I’d painstakingly sharpened a buckle from my belt, and Asher had found a piece of hard slate that had broken off one wall, and he’d sharpened it into a point on one corner. Asher could also use his magic, though it hadn’t worked all that well so far. We thought the baron must be a sorcerer and have some strong spell already in place to block Asher’s magic. The iron door didn’t help either.
I turned over and scooted closer to Brandon’s back. Asher and I tried to share as much body heat with him as we could at night, and it helped a little. I tried to clear my mind so I could rest, but the thoughts kept racing through my head. It had been two weeks since I’d been stuck down here, and much longer for Asher and Brandon. I had to count up the time to make sure I still could, and it got harder to do every day. I knew that was a sign of my growing weakness, both mentally and physically, so I fought it off as hard as I could, though I knew it was only a matter of time.
Eventually, Harrison or maybe Lex would come looking for us, but I feared it would be too late by the time they arrived. I was angry at myself for being caught so easily by the baron in the first place, and my cousins had been captured the same way. He had been odd, but friendly at first when I’d arrived. Even welcoming, in a way.
But when I’d asked him about the missing girls over dinner in his antique dining room, he’d ignored me and plied me with wine and rich foods, trying to change the subject. When I persisted, he’d grudgingly admitted my cousins had been there and had come and talked to him but left soon after to go into the Wild Woods to see if somehow the soldiers had strayed there on the way up the mountain.
While he was telling me this load of bullshit, I tried to appear as if I might believe him. My plan was to leave with my men and go back down to the village at the foot of the mountain and get word to Harrison that there was something very wrong with this baron. I thought he was insane, and I knew that he must be a warlock, because sorcery draped around him like a cape, even clouding his breath. I felt as though I might choke on it when he stood too close. But I thought it was even more than that.
His eyes had something hot and hateful peeping out of them at times, and I was afraid he was demon possessed with the evil inside him waiting to devour everyone it could before consuming him from the inside out. I’d seen it happen once before with a truly wicked warlock, who had made a bargain with a demon and then was consumed by the creature. The only remedy that time had been to cut off the warlock’s head and burn his body to ash. I’d be happy to dispense the same fate to Dargan.
When I stood up to take my leave from that dinner, a strange lethargy had overtaken me, and I became so weak I collapsed to the floor. My men who had been waiting outside in the courtyard for me were nowhere to be seen as I pulled myself up and stumbled to the front door, and I feared for them.
Passing out while I was trying to make it outside to my horse was the last thing I remembered until I woke up hours later, with a crushing headache. I was in a dungeon room and Asher and Brandon were beside me, trying to awaken me. From the shape they were in—particularly Brandon—I’d known they’d suffered a similar fate. Now all of us were trapped here in this dungeon room.
I tossed back over to my other side, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep if I could. As it always did, my mind traveled to a certain beautiful omega, who would be so worried because I hadn’t made it back home yet.
Like everyone, I supposed, who was faced with their own mortality, I frequently went over and over the mistakes I’d made in my life, especially when it was late at night and the others were quiet. My behavior toward Darcy led the list, along with all the things I should have said to him and never did.
I’d never said I loved him, never admitted it, even to myself. Not once. And now that I couldn’t tell him anymore—now that I’d missed my chance for happiness with the love of my life, all I had left were regrets. Why hadn’t I spoken up and told him how much he meant to me? Told him how beautiful and how necessary he was to my happiness? I’d have done almost anything for one more chance with him, and why had it taken me so long to realize it?
I thought it might be a matter of trust. When you admitted to another person and to yourself that you loved them, and that they were of vital importance, and you probably couldn’t live without them, it was a huge thing. It changed everything, and I simply hadn’t been able to step up and do it.I was very afraid now that I’d never get the chance.
A loud, clanging noise from the passage outside the room we’d been locked in made me start and raise warily to one elbow. I heard a gasp and then soft footfalls in the corridor outside. It was the middle of the night—I figured nothing good could be outside that door. I thought it could mean only one thing. Dargan was finally making his move.
I put my hand over Brandon’s mouth, woke him and watched as he quickly awakened Asher on his other side. Then quietly as we could, we got up and took positions around the door. I could hear faint scraping noises in the door lock, and I tensed, getting ready for action. It was dark inside the dungeon room, but my eyes had adjusted to it a bit. I was ready.
When that door opened, I planned on killing the first man through it.
Chapter Thirteen
Darcy
The arm began tightening around my neck, but just as spots began dancing in front of my eyes and I started gasping for air, I was suddenly released and whoever had me took my shoulders and wrenched me around to peer down into my face.
“Darcy?”came the incredulous voice of my Alpha.“Darcy, is that you?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out except a few little croaks.
The next thing I knew I was being crushed to him and practically smothered with kisses. He was begging me to speak to him, but he was holding onto me so tightly I couldn’t take in a good enough breath to respond. I was vaguely aware someone else was trying to pull me from his arms. A tug of war was going on with him and the cousins, with me as the prize. In their defense, I think they were trying to save me, but Wyatt won. He turned his back on them and hunched over me, crooning and patting my face. I guess he was trying to say he was sorry. I knew he was being driven by his pheromones, so I just let him do what he wanted and finally after a few minutes, he began to calm down. Of course, by that time, he had me stripped naked, supposedly so he could check me for injuries, or so he said.
Thankfully, one of the cousins threw my shirt over my bottom half to help cover me up a little. Wyatt never even noticed, still trying to get me to respond to his questions.
“How are you here?” he was asking, over and over. “Is Harrison outside? Or Lex? Did they bring soldiers?”
