AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You are as much a dire wolf as anyone, and I will throttle anyone who tells you differently.”
Simone leaned up, twisting around to look in his face. “So, you’re not upset that I wasn’t always a dire wolf?”
“You’re one now, and that’s all that matters. I am perfectly happy with who you are. I know that you are my fated mate.”
“Midori says she believes you love me.”
“Midori is a very wise woman.” Simone smiled, tears filling her eyes, and he touched her cheek gently with one finger. “You are mine,Piatsuk,and I will love you forever.”
“I love you, too, but what does that mean?”
“Piatsuk?It’s Innuit for precious possession, which is what you are—my most precious possession.”
For the first time they began to truly talk, to tell each other all their secrets, their dreams, and their desires. He could feel her exhaustion coming down the bonding link, though, regardless of how she tried to hide it. He crooned to her, telling her tales from his childhood that meant nothing. He wanted to paint her a picture of the way he envisioned their lives and of how their children would be raised. But mostly he wanted her to just listen to the sound of his voice and let her drift into a peaceful and unfevered sleep.
Mischa eased himself from behind her and laid her down in the bed. There was a light tapping on his door. He cracked it open. It was Valentin.
“Colby was wondering if you could meet with him, Mark Hadley, Jax, and Zak out at Windsong. He said it was important.”
Mischa nodded. “Tell them to get the chopper ready and let Colby know we’re coming. I’ll get dressed and meet you downstairs in just a couple of minutes.”
Withdrawing back into the room, he grabbed a quick shower and got dressed. Remembering what she told him about waking and finding him gone, he wrote a brief note telling her he’d been called away but would be back as soon as possible, and she was to rest. He went to sign just his name and then smiled and instead signed it,
All my love,
Mischa
* * *
SIMONE
Simone woke and once again found herself alone in their bed. She might have become angry if it wasn’t for the fact that there was a note propped up so that it would be the first thing she would see. She had to read the note a second time because all she really saw at first glance was his bold signature, including his declaration of love.
Heading down the stairs, she grabbed some cold leftovers and then made her way down to the garage. She took the keys to the vintage farm truck and left a note that she was going to go for a drive. That wasn’t really the truth—well, she would be driving, but she had a destination in mind. She meant to drive into Otter Cove and down to the marina. If the boat was there, she wanted to check out the abandoned cannery.
Simone had always loved abandoned places and ruins. She liked to imagine those who had lived and worked there. What had their lives been like? Were they happy? Had they been forced into a life they’d never wanted? How had they died? Who had mourned them? Sometimes she thought she could feel the spirits of those who had gone before, and sometimes she thought she saw them in her peripheral vision.
She made her way over to Kodiak Island, heading north and staying close to the island so she wouldn’t miss it. Spotting it, she noted that no other boats were tied up and no one seemed to be there. She idled the boat into position so that it was parallel to the docks and then she turned off the motor and tied up. She climbed up onto the dock and headed toward the abandoned buildings.
Old, haunted places had always been a weakness for her, and the cannery was no different. She could well imagine it when it had been part of a thriving community. The place was picturesque in a creepy, kind of desolate way. Hugging her arms around her to ward off the cold, she realized she would need to get used to Alaska’s variation in temperature. Sicily was normally warm and sunny. Alaska wasn’t. She was standing on one edge of one of the holds where they would put the fish, when someone grabbed her from behind.
Simone struggled and tried to break free, but whoever had her was much stronger than she was, and she was unable to get away. Her ability to think her way out of the situation—something she had always prided herself on—was reduced to nothing when a smelly, burlap bag was placed over her head and her wrists were secured behind her. She struggled and scrambled to her feet, but her assailant had her at a definite disadvantage and she was dragged to a waiting vehicle. She knew it was a car and not a boat as they’d moved away from the water and the sound of the engine was more vehicle than boat. She was tossed into the trunk, kicking and screaming.
“Shut up,” said the man, whose voice she thought she recognized as the man who’d met with Mischa.
When she didn’t immediately comply, something hard came down on the side of her head, knocking her unconscious.
* * *
The first thing she noticed when the darkness began to lift was that the stinky burlap bag was gone. The second thing was that her wrists had been bound to a cheap hotel headboard. Sitting on the edge of her bed was a chunky, hairy man in a wife-beater T-shirt watching television with his back to her. That might have been encouraging except for the very large gun sitting next to him.
She tried to tamp down her fear and anxiety and focus on what she could do that might make escape possible. Inside her head the buzzing that seemed to have awakened her was beginning to clarify in her head, zinging around like an old-time pinball machine. The first voice she could make out was Mischa’s—desperate and urgent. The other was female and strong, very strong. It prowled at the corners of her mind, telling her not to fear and to be patient. Whenever she was ready the creature in her mind would be ready, too.
Focusing on Mischa’s voice, she tried reaching out to him along the link. She’d been able to reach him emotionally, but never tried to communicate directly. Haltingly, she whispered her fear.
“What happened? Do you know where you are?”
“I wanted to do a little exploring, so I went back to the cannery.”
