Chapter 9 - Dorian
I frown behind the arm bent over my eyes, the infusion of herbs and spices drifting into my nostrils like the most tantalizing aroma I’ve had the liberty of smelling for weeks.
Taking a deep breath to make sure that I’m not dreaming, my tummy rumbles in response to the richness of the aroma.
Removing my arm from my face, I follow the trail of the fragrance with my eyes until I spot Amelia at the kitchenette table, whisking a fork in a bowl and appearing oddly domesticated with her hair tied into a bun at the top of her head.
If it wasn’t for the crisp, cold air that remains as a reminder of our situation against the natural heat of my body temperature, I would have mistaken the human as my real wife. Perhaps, to some extent, I’d even consider her my mate while my inner wolf stirs in my head and brings about a different kind of awareness deep in my core.
Gulping to stop the blood from flowing there, I shuffle on my rear to rearrange myself in case I’m unable to stop my body’s natural reaction to Amelia. I can’t help it. I’m stuck here with her, and she’s the only female I’ve been around in weeks.
“What are you doing?” I ask croakily as I get up from the blanket on the floor.
Amelia looks up with a sparkle in her eyes, throwing me a whimsical grin. “I’m cooking.”
Her bold statement amid our imprisonment is amusing, and I chuckle. “You’re cooking?”
“Uh-huh!” she concedes proudly. “Jackson sent more supplies today. I can’t tell if it’s night or day, but we’ll be having t-bone steaks for lunch. Or dinner. Whatever you prefer.”
With a skeptical frown, I get to my feet and spot the package of meat on the table, along with a few other new goods. It seems Jackson has become more thoughtful in his approach about wanting us to mate, that he’s ensuring we eat better food.
He hasn’t taken me out of the cell for a few days, but I suspect that he’s back now, more determined than ever to ensure that I get his sister pregnant.
Right now, as she works some domestic magic in our sorry excuse for a kitchen, it’s not Jackson’s forceful orders that send awareness pooling into my core.
It’s Amelia herself that manages to do that all on her own. If I removed Jackson from the equation, I might have thrown everything off the table and lifted her petite frame there instead. Forget the meat, I would have feasted on h—
“What?” she asks, snapping me out of a disgraceful thought. I clear my throat, then feign a cough only to tear my hungry gaze away and cover my mouth.
“Sorry…” I apologize earnestly. “I was er—I was thinking about the last time I had a solid meal.”
Amelia sets the bowl down, her bottom lip trembling with a rueful pout. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”
I nod in agreement, the pull I feel toward her outweighing the pang of hunger gripping my belly. “Dry bread and tea aren’t enough to keep a werewolf alive,” I snort.
She picks up the bowl again and returns to her whisking. “Well, it’s a good thing they’ve decided to give us some real food. I hope you like mashed potatoes.”
Staring at Amelia, my mind wanders to those sinful thoughts again. “The meat will suffice,” I say, although internally, I’m implying something else.
I have to stop doing this—stop allowing my body to react to Amelia’s presence as if quenching a thirst for sexual pleasures is at the top of my list of priorities. Chastising myself mentally, I have to bear in mind that I’ve been stuck in a prison cell laced with silver to keep me from escaping, forced to be in the closest proximity to the woman I was forced to marry.
She’s just a woman, and that’s the only reason I have fantasies about her. It’s been weeks confined to this cage, kept away from the outside world, and kept away from any physical activities I could have exercised out there.
Apart from that, it’s been almost a year since I’ve been intimate with a woman. The bout of abstinence was a form of purification to clear my head once the rogue werewolves surfaced as a threat to my kind.
That’s the only reason I’m mentally salivating every time I catch myself staring too long at Amelia.
I should be finding a way out, but I’m hitting dead-ends when it comes to an escape plan, especially since it’s been a good couple of days since Jackson took me out of the cage to siphon my blood.
“After all…” I continue with a nervous chuckle. “... A werewolf usually only needs meat.”
I glance at the bloody plastic covering the steaks and Amelia follows my gaze.
“You’re not serious…” she murmurs, to which I lift my head and grin.
“Dead serious,” I snicker. “No pun intended. But that’s how werewolves survive. My inner wolf needs fresh, raw meat for strength.”
Amelia tilts her head to one side, stopping her ministrations in the bowl. “Is that how you’re able to shape-shift?”
“It’s not a requirement for the shifting process,” I explain, taking the bowl from her hand and continuing her task while she stares at me with curiosity in her round, golden eyes.
It doesn’t help that Amelia seems keenly interested in everything I tell her about werewolves. I know she’s probably only pretending to care and hangs onto my every word for lack of anything else to keep her occupied.
“But hunting prey is a form of training for us, and it allows our wolves to feel invincible,” I add with a forlorn smile as I picture the freedom of stalking an unsuspecting animal in the forest or deep between the valley. “The shifting process is something that happens naturally, a gift we receive on our eighteenth birthdays, and then we learn how to shift back and forth at will.”
“Ah…” she hums introspectively, nodding her head slowly. “So it’s like puberty, but with actual perks.”
I chuckle wholeheartedly at that. “Yeah… It’s way better than puberty. At least we end up wanting more than just sex.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I end up regretting them, especially when I notice how uncomfortable Amelia becomes as her cheeks become flushed.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you—”
My apology is cut short when I notice the translucent milky whiffs of gas seeping in from the vents.
“Oh, no…” I groan, throwing the bowl on the table. “So much for giving us proper food!” I roll my eyes and Amelia looks up and whimpers in protest.
“Fucking hell, Jackson!” she exclaims, shocking me with how her voice is louder and angrier than I’ve ever heard it before. Her fists curl at her sides and she glares at the closest vent. “You heartless piece of shit!”
A pang of remorse grips my heart when I witness Amelia’s true fury as she whimpers at the unfinished meal on the table.
“I fucking hate him…” she grouches.
I reach out and grab her arm, startling her when I draw her close enough to whisper in her ear.
“This isn’t a bad thing, Amelia. There’s something out there that I need. I’m gonna get us out of here, I promise.”
When I pull back, my solemn oath hanging in the air between us, Amelia gazes up at me with eyes of credence turning soft as gaseous clouds whisper around her face. The specks of gold-like stardust in her eyes twinkle as she stares at me, and my heart squeezes in my chest with a sudden, aching need to protect her.
Wanting to serve the human woman who I marked as my mate becomes second nature, compelling me to act with the type of honor and possessiveness I would have performed if Amelia was a she-wolf.
From the deepest, furthest chasms of my mind, the word “mate” rings out as my inner wolf speaks up for the first time in weeks. That nagging sense to protect Amelia has me keeping her pressed to my chest, folding my arms around her just as the subduing gas takes effect and her eyelids drift closed. She sighs in my arms, her body growing limp.
Reaching down, I lift her to my chest and carry her to the bed, laying her down and pulling a blanket over her frail body. No matter how many times it’s happened, every time the gas is released in the cage becomes more daunting than the last.
Goddess only knows what could happen out there. But it’s not so much what’s out there that worries me. Having to witness Amelia passing out before me each time is what really boils my blood.
I can’t bear to watch her struggles at the hands of her own brother. The heartless monster doesn’t deserve to be called her brother, anyway. While her sleeping face appears like an angel that seems to offer the little comfort I could ever hope to find in my disposition, I decide to finally lay my head beside her pillow as I allow myself to sink into another bout of unconsciousness. In the silence, I’m able to trace every curve and dip of her face, how the apples of her cheeks sit high enough to contour her face so perfectly that her lips appear puckered.
I’m about to reach out with a frail hand as the gas begins to take effect, but draw my hand away when I feel like it’d be too intrusive. Deep down, I can’t shake off the feeling that it wouldn’t be so criminal of me to touch her with adoration tingling in my fingertips. We’ve been stuck here for a while—I’m not sure how many days or weeks it’s been, but the construct of time doesn’t matter to us anymore—and we’ve been intimate in ways that don’t require us to shed our clothes.
I’ve bared my soul in front of the human, which was an unlikely thing for a werewolf of my caliber. No one out there truly knows how much I’d been affected by my estranged relationship with my brother, except for Amelia. Not even Connor, my Beta, has ever seen my eyes gloss over with tears when I spoke about him, but she has.
Perhaps I’m too starved for attention, just like the way my body is starved of the nutrients and freedom it needs to thrive as a werewolf, but I can’t ignore that Amelia has somehow become important to me despite her relationship with the manic hybrid human-werewolf who is my nemesis now.
She’s the sister of my enemy, but she’s my mate too, and I need to protect her and save her from harm.
As the effects of the ether-like gas take over and my vision becomes hazy this time, I don’t bother to correct my thoughts and dismiss the notion that she’s my mate. The last thing I see before I pass out is the mark of my teeth on her neck, hanging onto the sweet fragrance of her natural scent emitting from her scent gland.
***
There’s nothing unusual about routinely having my blood drained, like today. Out in the warehouse after a few days to recover since the last time I was siphoned by this blood-sucker of sorts, I’ve had some time to regain enough strength to keep my eyesight clear enough to get a better inspection of my surroundings.
Now more than ever, I’m determined to get out only because it means that I get Amelia out of here. She can return to the life she had in the city and be free of her brother.
When Jackson turns his back to me to add the antidote to the vial of my blood, I narrow my eyes to sharpen my vision as I mentally calculate how much of the wolfsbane remedy is left in the bottle. It should be enough to counter the wolfsbane in my bloodstream.
I just need to get my hands on the bottle…
“Is she pregnant yet?” Jackson asks bluntly, turning just as he administers my blood into a ripe vein. His eyes glimmer ominously as he sucks in a breath through his teeth, but I’ve long overcome the gripping fear of what he’s capable of doing.
As menacing as he might appear, he’s no match for a group of Alphas once I lead the Werewolf Council members to him. When I escape, it will be the end of his scheming.
I scoff in response to his question, along with the satisfaction that he’ll never get what he wants. “How will I know?” I ask with sarcasm. “It’s not like we visited a clinic lately.”
Jackson stares blankly at me, his nostrils flaring with annoyance. “You’re right…” he grouches, pointing at the door hiding in the darkness at the back of the warehouse. “Maybe I should bring her out here and test her.”
“Leave. Her. Alone,” I warn with terror in the deepest octave of my voice, a rumbling growl growing in my chest.
Jackson responds with an equally sadistic chuckle. “So, you really do care about her, don’t you?” He leans in, narrowing his dark eyes at me. “In that case, she must be pregnant already.”
“Maybe,” I lie, challenging his glare with as much ferocity as I can muster so he doesn’t suspect that I haven’t laid a finger on his sister. “But you’ll stay away from her until I find out for myself.”
“Actually, we should find out right now,” he counters with a speculatively raised brow. He straightens up and whistles to call his lackeys back into the warehouse.
With fury flaring my nostrils, I glare at Jackson. “You’re not gonna touch her, Jackson. I swear—”
“Relax, buddy!” he chided with an unwelcome hand on my shoulder, a treacherous smile on his face. “Did you forget that we’re joined at the hip now, so to say?” he chuckles. “I can enter your mind while you scan her with your wolfy powers. That’s how we’ll know if she’s pregnant or not.”
He throws me a wink before turning just as his men enter the warehouse. I gulp nervously when he isn’t looking, trying to calculate a way out of this.
With all my blood running through his veins, Jackson can enter my mind when he’s in wolf form. As much as I’ve been shielding my thoughts like I’m walking on eggshells, scanning Amelia will mean that I have to drop my guard all the way down.
It’s not as if it’s at its strongest right now.
I have to get that antidote.
When Jackson steps back, I see an opportunity, and I know I have to act fast. With my limbs bound to the chair, I can’t stretch my arm toward the metal table on the side.
But I have an idea.
With the little room, I have to move my foot, I kick it out and hit Jackson in the calf. The unexpected kick sends him keeling over with a surprised shriek, bumping into the table and knocking over its contents.
Just as I anticipated, the vial of the antidote flies off, and I open my hand just in time to catch it before curling a fist to hide it. Jackson turns to me with a thunderous growl and slaps me across the face. A broken nose is the type of pain I can endure for the greater good of successfully getting my hands on the remedy that will see us out of here.
“What the fuck, Dorian?!” he roars, his foul-smelling saliva flying at my face.
I turn with a nonchalant flinch, and mutter flatly, “I had a cramp in my foot.”
Jackson growls with threat, but it doesn’t faze me. I know he won’t kill me—at least not until he gets what he wants. Or, until he learns that I haven’t touched his sister. I can only hope that as I’m cuffed and dragged back into the makeshift lift to take us to the underground bunker, I’ll be able to keep him out of my mind so he doesn’t find out that I haven’t even touched his sister.
I gulp hard when we arrive underground as Jackson’s henchmen drag me out of the elevator and throw me against the silver-laced wall outside the cage. The scorching sensation that rushes through me once I’ve made contact with the silver has me immobilized momentarily, but I use the brief moment of freedom to discreetly tuck the vial of antidote between the waistband of my boxers, safely out of sight for whatever is about to happen next.
With the rogues looming over me in their wolf forms, their master unlocks the hidden door that leads into the cage. My heart skips an anxious beat when I spot Amelia looking up with dread and horror painting her face.
A flash of anger passes through her eyes when Jackson steps inside and grabs her arm. She flinches and tries wringing free, but he’s too strong for her frail form, weakened by her time in the cage.
He lugs her out and tosses her on the floor beside me, my heart pounding now with an intense need to protect her, even though I can barely protect myself. When she falls to her knees and hands, I’m compelled to reach out and take her hand. It’s the only comfort I can offer now to soothe her worries and let her know that I’m supposed to be her protector.
When she lifts frightened eyes at me, her long lashes whispering as if they beckon to my heartstrings, my heart skips another beat, my inner wolf stirring with a sorrowful whimper deep in the recesses of my mind. It’s at that moment I realize that my inner wolf acknowledges Amelia as my mate, and the only thing stopping me from accepting this twist of fate is the owner of the dark, ominous shadow looming over us as he towers above us.
“Are they gonna kill us…?” she whimpers fearfully.
“He won’t kill us,” I whisper boldly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Not until he gets what he wants.”
Amelia gulps, her fear foreshadowing what’s to come once Jackson finds out the truth. Sensing the danger I’m in, I secretly take out the vial of antidote and press it into Amelia’s hand when Jackson glances at his wolves.
She doesn’t utter a word but keeps the bottle hidden when Jackson turns back to us, and this gives me more reason to admire her for being intrinsically smart.
“Now, Dorian…” Jackson begins, crouching on the floor in front of Amelia and me. If my wolf abilities weren’t dampened by silver and wolfsbane, I could have fought Jackson and taken down the rogue wolves while we were outside the cage.
But it’s all about the perfect timing, and right now, I’m not fit to take them on. I’ll have to wait and calculate the perfect escape.
“... It’s time to find out if she’s pregnant.”
Beside me, Amelia’s breath catches when she realizes what this is about. Her hand tenses beneath mine, but I tap her with my thumb to console her.
Knowing how badly Jackson wants to test if a hybrid child between a werewolf and a human is possible, he won’t get rid of his test subjects so quickly. It had taken him months to capture an Alpha, and the other Alphas of the Council would be impossible to catch now that they must have figured out that I’ve been kidnapped.
As I glare ferociously into Jackson’s dark, sinister eyes, I realize why I would never actively acknowledge Amelia as my mate and take the mate bond further than the confines of the cage—because of him. I would never risk planting a seed in her that would sprout into something as gruesome as Jackson. It would never work, even if I’m drawn to Amelia in the most raw, carnal way. She’s a human—a fact that I have to keep reminding myself about.
Werewolves don’t mate with humans. It’s an age-old rule that governs werewolves against mating and impregnating human females. It’s never been something done or heard of. A human isn’t strong enough to carry a werewolf pup.
While a werewolf isn’t strong enough to stay away from its mate, just as I’ve been hounding myself, wrestling with my primal needs against acting on my innate impulses.
I wouldn’t dare risk Amelia’s life.
My chest puffs out as I lift my chin with defiance fueling my being. “You’ll never get what you want, Jackson!” I spit venomously at him. “You hear me?! I’m not mating with your sister!”
Jackson’s eyes flit to his sister’s face as if he’s trying to read her reaction. When he turns furious eyes on me, full of recognition, he doesn’t wait for another second to shift into his ghastly, horrid hybrid form, rabid as he growls at my face.
Amelia is frozen by her shock, the color from her face draining as if she’s looking at a ghost.
“ You haven’t mated with her?!” Jackson’s voice enters my mind with all the gory menace of his dark eyes and salivating blackened wolf lips.
I shake my head with control. “I will never mate with her, Jackson,” I grate stringently.
He barks at me then, and Amelia shrieks in horror. I maintain a steady glare, challenging him when he enters my mind again.
“ I’ll kill you!” he roars mentally while his physical wolf growls.
“What do you want more? My blood, or a hybrid child?” I lift a skeptical brow. “We both know you won’t catch another Alpha.”
Jackson growls again, but this time, he lunges forward and clamps sharp teeth on my shoulder, dragging me forward. Like a ragdoll, I’m flung through the air, landing in a heap against the brick wall across the cage.
“No, Jackson!” Amelia screams as she scrambles to her feet and grabs a fistful of greasy hair. “Leave him alone!”
Jackson snaps his head around with a thunderous roar, knocking Amelia off her feet. She plunders to the floor with a shriek, and I’m sprung into action by the severity of my need to protect her at all costs. Mustering every last ounce of strength left inside me, I climb to my feet and sprint forward with the silver chains held out in front of me, ready to strangle Jackson.
Even if he kills me today, he’ll find another Alpha to do what I can’t bring myself to do. I’ll die knowing I did a good thing by getting that antidote and giving it to Amelia. That way, whoever comes in place of me will have the antidote for the wolfsbane to help him escape.
She’s Jackson’s human incubator, after all. He won’t risk killing her.