Chapter Fourteen
Alaina
I am reminded of the morning hangovers I used to have with Taya. It’s the familiar sensation of nausea but also a need for food in my system. My head is pounding, and I’m sore and have bruises in random places on my body from I don’t know what. I don’t know where I am, how I got here, or what happened before I passed out.
Only other difference is instead of the stench of booze seeping through my pores, it’s silver. Being injected with silver is what I imagine the internal sting of a million paper cuts would be like.
I have the same level of tolerance to the debilitating pain as under the mercy of a dentist’s drill cleaning my teeth. I cringe and want to crawl out of my skin. Even with the stress heat from the pain rising, my body shivers at the temperature of the room.
I can’t hardly move, so I try to gather as much information as I can. I had to be drugged to explain the grogginess—silver doesn’t have that effect. Whoever did this to me wants me incapacitated enough to where I can’t fight them. Which means I can only wait until the drugs and silver slowly wear off before I make my escape. This already sounded like Olivia, who always knew I could kick her ass, but I imagine a man as powerful as Dax has many enemies.
There’s no blinding sun waking me this time or covers to pull over my head and hide from. The room is pitch black except for the tiny bit of light from the crack under the door. I try to lift my head, and my neck succumbs to the weight, slamming back down to the hard surface.
Dammit. Well, we can cross padded room off the list. I snort at my dark humor.
Despite my comedic twinge, my body is dense. I can’t bring myself to lift my arm to rub the throbbing spot on the back of my head.
I manage to move my fingers, spreading them wide to graze the floor I’m lying on. The hard surface is grainy and cold. The cracks and patterns I trace with my fingers remind me of stone.
The smell of this room sort of reminds me of Dax’s dungeon, only his dungeon has a more prominent smell of blood and urine.
Thoughts of Dax drift me away into darkness as I succumb to sleep once more.
* * *
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I’m less groggy this time waking up. I’m still lying in the same spot, but I’m able to crank and tilt my head to survey my surroundings.
When I register there’s no one here but the bucket they’ve intended for waste, I roll over, stifling a groan. Fire courses through my bloodstream with the adjustment.
Groaning through the pain, I find the strength to get to my feet, wobbling as I try to remain upright.
I stagger toward the wooden door, wincing with every step, then I practically crash into it. The small bit of light emitted from the crack below it allows me to see this door is too medieval-looking to have such a standard and easily breakable doorknob—that is, if the silver has worn off enough for me to shift.
Concentrating, pushing my wolf forward, I manage to elongate a single claw. It’ll have to do.
Relying on the door to keep me upright, I feel around for the doorknob. I finger the hole of the lock with my nail until I hear a soft click.
Yes!
I take a deep breath, drained from the calling of my wolf but energized by the hope of having a chance to escape.
Whoever drugged me must not have expected me to be awake so soon. The lock was too easy. That means whoever orchestrated this mustn’t be as intelligent as they think they are. Otherwise, they would’ve chained me.
I thank the Moon Goddess for the adaptation of my mate’s strength for a speedy recovery.
While Dax’s strength helped me wake up earlier than my captor might’ve planned, I don’t think I’ve recovered enough to think I could win a fight. I’ll have to pray my speed isn’t compromised and can get me out of here without being seen.
I crack the door slightly, pausing to listen. Nothing.
When no one comes, I open the door wide enough for me to slither through and softly close it behind me.
Torches line the dark stone walls, illuminating the room. The small hallway is empty, except for keys hanging on the wall. I think about taking them in case this plan—if I can even call it that—falls through. Though I decide against it when I consider how loud it may sound with every step I take. I still don’t know what waits for me at the bottom.
I make my way toward the spiral staircase. Without a railing and my person unreliable from the effects of the injections, I cling to the cold, stone wall as I slowly descend. The number of stairs I pass tells me I must be held in a tower.
I’m at the last step and am met with a similar wooden door. I crack this one the same to listen.
Squeakkkkkk .
As if right on cue, the door is practically yanked out of my hand, and two burly men stand in front of me, looking perplexed.
Fuck.
I call on my wolf, hoping she can help me out, knowing the men can see my blue eyes shifting to a glowing violet in the dark.
I’ll have to kill them before they alert others.
I strike at the men’s throats before either one can call for help. While they’re hunched over and coughing, I take the opportunity to whiz past them and run.
I’m pulled back by my hair and thrown onto the staircase. My head bounces as it hits one of the steps. I clutch the back of my head, my vision encroaching upon darkness, and I’m certain I have a concussion from the impact. When I come to, the same men are dragging me up the stairs to the tower by my wrists.
I shake my head . Snap out of it.
I wrap my hand around their wrists and, in one jerk, pull their arms out of their socket, then chuck them down the stairs.
Before their brains can register pain and scream, I chop their throats, decapitating them with my claws. Their heads bounce down the steps.
I push off the ground to hoist myself to my feet and frantically hurry down the steps and out into the hall.
The corridor is long and lined with red runners going in either direction. With no time, I choose to take my chances at random and haul ass.
I’m almost insulted that they only assigned two guards to supervise me, as it’s minutes later, and I still don’t see or hear anyone. With my heart racing, I keep checking behind me.
Finally making it toward the end of the hall, I know I’ve spoken too soon. I stop and press my back against the wall at the sound of footsteps.
A vampire is giving humans a tour of the castle, going on about the history of this wretched place. They’ve entered from an entrance to the outside, having just begun their tour. While they’re amazed at the walls of my prison, my eyes are set on the exit.
Not everything that is beautiful is safe.
Freedom. Now that is stunning.
Once I’m certain they’ve passed, I dart to a pillar, peer out from behind to check that they’re distracted, and make a run for it.
I’m almost there.
I don’t take my eyes off the tour group and vampire when I start creeping toward the exit.
“Where do you think you’re going?” someone says.
I whip my head to find six men blocking my ticket to freedom and home to Dax.
“I don’t think—I know . Now I’m sure you’re just itching for a damning reunion with your”—I nod toward the direction I came from— “buddies back there.”
They exchange glances.
“But quite frankly, I’d rather just go home. Kindly step aside.”
My voice doesn’t shake, and I don’t stutter. In fact, I sound bored. My mate’s waiting for me, and I’m confident—even with my current impairment—I can take these men out if they try to keep me from him any longer. But I’d prefer to skip all of that if I can.
I look to each of them, raising my eyebrows, waiting for their decision. They encircle me, and I smile.
“Reunion, it is.”
My wolf surfaces.
The first vampire to lunge at me is too eager. When he charges for me, he’s leading with his head first, his weight and momentum easily used against him as I pull him into my deadly grasp.
How arrogant of him to not use vampiric speed against me.
I didn’t have to do anything but hold my arm out and elongate my claws. Like a kabob, his chest slides right down my arm until my hand reaches exactly the organ I was looking for; delivering his heart right to me.
Simultaneously, I push his shoulder as I yank my arm out. His heart separates from his chest in the palm of my hand. I close my fist slowly, letting the tips of my sharp talons pierce the glowing organ until it dulls, and the son of a bitch collapses to the floor. Tossing it to the side, I prepare immediately for my next victim.
The next one makes a rookie mistake, even worse than the other. He’s fast but loses the element of surprise by hissing before he makes his move. And I’m ready for him.
I duck just in time, and he summersaults over me. I turn and meet the other with a fist to the nose and a chop to the throat.
I grasp at my neck, gasping for air, but I can’t stop. There’s still five of them and one of me. There’s no backup while I recover.
When I stumble back, it’s enough for another one to put me in a chokehold from behind. Before he gets the chance to sneak under my chin and tighten, I tuck my chin and elbow him in the ribs. This stuns him, causing him to loosen his grip just enough for me to face him and kick his chest. At my force, he flies into the wall and slumps. Not dead but no longer a problem.
The one who fumbled regains his bruised ego, which works against him. If he was ever trained to fight, he’s forgotten everything. It’s a swipe across his neck, and he’s decapitated instantly, his body twitching on the floor.
I’m too busy admiring my work when the breath is knocked out of me, and I’m tackled by one of his friends. He’s pounding on me, punch after punch, and blood coats my tongue.
After taking so many hits, I pick up on a predictable rhythm in his blows and move my head out of the way just in time. He misses my face, and a loud crack lands next to my ear where he’s crushed the floor through the runner.
I wrap my legs around his waist and pull his neck into me. As I plan to crush his throat with the strength of my wolf, he picks up on this and punches the shit out of my rib cage and claws at anything he can. Bones crunch, and my hands flatten his trachea.
Like his friend, he twitches. Dead.
I roll him off of me.
Once I’m free of his dead weight, I’m hauled to my feet by my collar and shoved against a wall.
“Oh, look who just woke up. So glad you can join us.” I grin with a bloody mouth.
The guy who was once slumped against the wall and out cold looks pissed as hell. His eyes and veins turn black at the sight of me.
I don’t know what he is planning to do, but vengeance and bloodlust on this man is quickly taking over.
His friend notices. “Hey. Not her.”
The black in his eyes fades to a dark red, and the black veins disappear.
“Aw, good boy. Such a good listener.”
As angry as he is, I know when my back is literally up against a wall, and I’m running out of energy.
I’m sorry, I tried, my wolf says.
My wolf gave me what she could, and I’m defeated.
I was too confident.
And I’ve pissed him off.
He pulls me off the wall briefly, just to slam me back into rock, and I’m struggling to remain conscious with the impact of the back of my head meeting stone.
Next thing I know, I’m being dragged by my arms by four men back to the tower.
* * *
The men have installed new locks, adding latches and more keys to their ring hanging on the wall. I’m now chained by my leg to the floor. The chain isn’t long enough to reach the door—I’ve tried.
Thankfully, they haven’t injected me with any more substances. Once the effects wear off, I’ll break the chain and then each one of their measly locks.
The creaking of metal from the new locks echo, and a new type of torture walking through.
Olivia.
The events of yesterday begin flooding back into my mind at the sight of her.
She’s behind all of this.
Olivia saunters through the door, and guards lock it behind her.
“Hello, Alaina,” Olivia says, smiling smugly. “It’s nice to see you chained up like the dog you are. Wouldn’t want you escaping again, spoiling my little plan to dethrone you and take Dax at the same time.”
Not even the slightest bit intimidated by her threats, I notice she isn’t even brave enough to move away from the door and get closer to me.
I’d snap her neck before she could get near him or me again. But I entertain her anyway.
“And how do you plan to do that? By killing me?”
“Believe it or not, not now nor do I ever plan to kill you.”
I raise my eyebrows. However, I figure she must be right. Dax would’ve seen her intentions to kill me and then killed her in response the moment she did.
“It also wasn’t until your little homecoming visit that I even planned to kidnap you.”
I can believe that as well for the same reasons I don’t believe she ever planned to kill me. But then why the sudden change?
“To be completely honest, I never thought I would have to resort to any of this. I thought, eventually, you were bound to disrespect Dax enough that he’d toss you aside.”
For once, we both were on the same page, thinking it was probable I would find a way to ruin my chances with Dax.
“And then when you went to your old pack where Caleb is, I really thought the chances of you sabotaging your relationship were high. Or at the very least, you would have put Dax second once more.”
I roll my eyes, not even the least bit hurt. Damn, she really had zero faith in me, didn’t she?
“Imagine my surprise when I found out you actually realized what you had and marked him before he could see how big of a mistake it was to mark you in the first place.”
My inner dialogue is laughing at how spot on Olivia could have been, and I’m chuckling along right with it, for once. Ten out of ten would recommend whatever drugs I’m on right now to get you through listening to the biggest nuisance you know.
Sam told me once how naive and ignorant Olivia is, but so far, I’m seeing the contrary.
“For the most part, Dax is a logical man, able to take the emotions out of things. Except when it comes to you... I’ll simply tell Dax the truth. I won’t stop hunting you for the rest of my life–which is eternal and much longer than yours, of course. If he wants that to stop, he will wed me and let you go.”
“Then, what happens to me?”
“My guess is you’d live, never to see Dax again, eventually die from heartbreak. That is, of course, assuming my brother doesn’t follow through on his plan to kill you first.”
“Your brother?”
“He’s here,” Olivia sings.
Before I can ask Olivia if she means Dax or her brother, she’s gone, and the door latches.