Chapter 3 — Ethan
Fuuuuccckkkk. . .
A searing pain rips through my head. I groan as I open my eyes, rolling over amid the faint smell of hay and damp earth. I flinch, looking down at the stiff mattress I’m lying on. Where the hell am I?
I reach up and touch my aching jaw. I look around at the dirt walls glistening with moisture and the iron bars a few feet from the edge of the bed.
The musty scent of earth and decay fills my nostrils as cold air seeps through my clothes.
Distant howls echo through the stone corridors beyond my cell, and whatever calm I had evaporates immediately.
“It’s about time you woke up.”
The woman the others called Commander sits in a chair a few feet away, legs crossed, her eyes boring holes into me.
I suck in a deep breath. Even under these bizarre circumstances, my mind reminds me that she’s possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
The harsh lighting of this cell should make anyone look terrible, but somehow it only highlights the perfect angles of her face, the fullness of her lips, and the raw intensity in those eyes.
My hand flies to my neck as I remember how she held me against the wall, her nails (were they nails?) digging into my skin as her eyes seemed to turn amber-gold.
She had been wearing dark, form-fitting clothes earlier.
Now, she looks more relaxed in a uniform tunic and pants with leather straps and metal rivets down the sides.
The outfit should look utilitarian, but on her, it only emphasizes the dangerous curves of her body.
Though there’s no joy anywhere in her expression, I can see fragments of softness underneath the hard persona she’s putting on. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and an errant thought whizzes through my mind, picturing her with it down instead.
My head starts to throb again. I rub my temples to soothe it. “Did you get the plates of the truck that hit me?” I say. “I’m pretty sure your thug gave me a concussion.”
“The healer said you’ll be fine.”
The what?
“You’re lucky I’m tougher than I look. A lesser man might be dead.”
“Trust me. If he wanted you dead, you would be.” She doesn’t smile when she says that, and it sets me on edge. “He’s actually the reason you’re not dead.”
She’s as serious as a heart attack. No doubt, she’s here on business and business only. I take in her upright posture complemented by her hands clasped around one knee.
Hmm. She’s trying to show authority.
“So, what am I doing here?” My skin prickles every time she shifts in the chair. It’s odd. Exciting, even. “Actually, better question. Where is here?”
“I’ll still be the one asking the questions, human.”
She shifts in her chair slightly again, showing a small crack in the wall of her control. Uncertainty? Fear? There’s definitely something off.
I should be using these tells to my advantage, but I keep getting distracted by the way her long eyelashes flutter before she scowls at me or how a stray strand of hair has fallen across her forehead.
I want to reach out and brush it back, which is absolutely insane, given my current predicament as her hostage.
That sounds way sexier than it really is.
“All right. But you know kidnapping is a felony, right?” I throw an easy smile her way, testing the crack in her wall. “There are easier ways to ask a guy out.”
A split second of surprise flashes across her eyes, and I catch a little bit of her real personality. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
She sighs. “You’re quite arrogant for a man in your position. Tell me, Mister Ethan—”
“Ethan Langley,” I cut her off, reaching through the bars and extending my hand. “But, just Ethan is fine. ‘Mister Langley’ reminds me of my father, and that’s a whole thing.”
“I’m not interested in your name preferences, human!” she snaps, a deep frown creasing her forehead. “Let’s be clear. I’m here because I need to determine what level of threat you pose to our community.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Threat? I’m unarmed and locked in a cell.”
“And yet,” she says, leaning forward slightly, “you happened to enter the apartment at exactly the moment we were there.” Her eyes narrow, searching my face for any hint of deception. “That kind of timing suggests either very bad luck or very careful planning.”
I laugh, which makes her eyes flash with irritation. “If I’d planned to get kidnapped by a beautiful woman and her henchmen, I would’ve at least worn better underwear.”
She slips the ghost of what might be amusement in her eyes before she shuts it down without letting it reach her lips. Every glimpse into what makes her tick is a tiny victory.
I study her face, searching for more clues. The way she holds herself — back straight, shoulders squared — screams military training, but something in the set of her mouth says she’s working harder at this severe demeanor than she wants me to know.
“You know, I’m still trying to figure out why I’m here.” I shift on the uncomfortable mattress, wincing at my sore muscles. “If I’m such a threat, why keep me alive? You clearly don’t have issues with violence.”
Her jaw tightens. “Don’t mistake restraint for weakness.”
“I don’t,” I say. “But there must be a reason you haven’t killed me yet. Maybe you’re not allowed to.”
When she doesn’t immediately deny it, I know I’m on the right track. Despite the absurdity of my situation, I’m finding it hard to think about plans of escape when her mere presence keeps clouding my thoughts.
“Tell me, what’s your connection to Luna Thea?” she demands. “Why were you in her apartment?”
“Luna? Like the moon?” I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but the Commander doesn’t offer any clues. “I already told you. I’m her co-worker and I was watering her plants.”
“What do you know about Thea?”
“Know about her? Like, what happened to her? She vanished into thin air.” A twinge of pain twists in my chest at the memory of her disappearance. “And it’s my fault. . .”
She leans in, her curiosity piqued. “How so?”
My gaze bores into the dirty floor, reliving that night in my mind.
“I always walked her home from the diner after closing. But that night, I had agreed to take someone’s shift the next morning.
When we reached my house, Thea insisted she could walk the rest of the way alone, since I had to get up so early. ”
My voice cracks slightly. “I let her go, and that was the last time I saw her. I reported her missing after she didn’t show up for work two days in a row.
The police found nothing. Not a single lead.
” I dig my shoe into the dirt. “Neither one of us has close family, so we were supposed to look out for each other. . .We even gave each other keys to our places in case of an emergency. Great job I did in looking out for her.”
“It never occurred to you that she, perhaps, wanted to leave? Maybe she was just tired of your little town and didn’t want to tell anyone.”
“Of course, it’s possible.” I shrug. “But people don’t tend to skip town without taking anything with them.
All her things were still there — her clothes, her sentimental items, even her toothbrush.
” I pause. “Besides, Thea would’ve told me if she planned to leave Creek Falls.
” I shake my head, though the possibility I could be wrong has crossed my mind more than once.
Thea had dreamed about leaving for a long time, but she never showed signs of having any explicit plans, nor did she have the money to simply skip town. Plus, she told me everything. Everything.
Before she disappeared, I had noticed that she seemed more guarded than usual.
I considered asking her about it, but I knew Thea would never keep anything from me for long.
She knew that if she tried to lie to me, I would see right through it.
Still, I wanted to give her the space to share what was bothering her when she felt ready. Unfortunately, that moment never came.
I thought we were close enough that if she ever did decide to pick up and leave without telling anyone that I would, at the very least, be the one person she’d send a postcard to.
“So . . . you’re close to her?” my captor asks.
She talks about Thea in the present tense. That’s a good sign. “Yeah,” I answer. “Pretty close.”
“Were you lovers?”
“No! It was never like that between us. She was like a sister to me.”
I can tell from the Commander’s questions that Thea must be alive, but she’s still keeping me in the dark.
“Listen, I’ve answered your questions. Now it’s your turn.” I lean forward, gripping the edge of the mattress. “Where is Thea? Is she okay? You clearly know something.”
The Commander’s expression hardens. “You’re in no position to make demands.”
“And yet here I am, making them.” I stand up, approaching the bars that separate us. “Look, I don’t know what’s happening, but I’ve spent nearly a year worrying about her. If she’s alive, I deserve to know.”
“You deserve nothing.”
“Then why keep me alive? Why bring me here?” I press to my advantage, noticing how her fingers twitch slightly. “You took belongings from her apartment. You call her ‘Luna’. Tell me where she is!”
“Enough.” Her voice drops to a fierce whisper. “You seem to have forgotten your situation, human. You are the captive here. I decide what information you receive.”
Damn, anger makes her even more stunning. Her eyes flash and her cheeks flush with color. Her lips form an unamused frown that draws attention to the elegant line of her throat. It’s like watching a thunderstorm gather — beautiful, threatening, and completely captivating.
I cross my arms in front of me. “Fine. Then I’m not answering any more questions. I want a lawyer.”
“A lawy—” She shakes her head. “Suit yourself. We’ll see how you fare once my Alpha decides what to do with you.”
She rises suddenly, her chair scraping against the floor. I should be concerned about poking the bear, but part of me just wants to see what happens when lightning strikes.
As she turns to leave, I say, “So, Rhiannon, right?”
Her head whips around. Yeah, that might’ve been a mistake. “I didn’t tell you my name.”
“You didn’t have to,” I respond. “You and Akila were throwing names around like beach balls back at the apartment.” I pause. “I didn’t catch the big one’s name, though. Thank him for not killing me. . .or letting you kill me.”
The muscles along her cheek twitch. Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits. But I never know when to quit.
“Look, next time you break into a place,” I continue, “maybe try code names? And wear masks—”
I blink.
She’s on me, arm pressed against my throat, pushing me back, kneeling on the mattress, pinning me against the wall. She snarls, fangs protruding from her mouth.
Holy shit. Icy panic rushes through my veins. I wasn’t imagining things earlier after all. I thought I saw fangs and her hand turn into a claw when her long nails dug into my skin. Now, I see both as clear as day.
But even with those deadly canines inches from my face, my attention catches on the curve of her mouth and the way her eyes have gone full gold again, like something ancient looking out through them.
This close, I can see amber flecks in her irises and her body close enough that I feel the temperature difference between her skin and the cold cell air. She’s terrifying. I’m into it.
Her scent hits me: cedar and cool night air, sharp enough to cut through the damp. I rarely notice those kinds of details, which makes this strange. My brain gets the message. The rest of me doesn’t care.
I can barely breathe but I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and deadly in my entire life.
“Don’t you dare be so familiar with me,” she growls. “At this moment, you are alive because I have decided to allow it, but if you continue to bait me, that will change. Nod if you understand me.”
I nod as oxygen is quickly being cut off from my brain.
She releases me and climbs off the bed, allowing me to breathe once more. I lean over and gasp for air, rubbing my already sore neck.
She steps back, keeping her eyes on me. “Push me again, and you’ll find out exactly how merciful I’ve been so far.”
I watch her leave, taking note of her pert behind as she slams the cell door and walks away. Once she’s gone, I collapse on the bed and can’t keep from chuckling. A fear boner was definitely not on my agenda for today.
Staring at the rough ceiling where water droplets build and fall with a soft plink onto the dirt, the cold works into my joints as I try to make sense of my reaction to her.
No one has ever gotten under my skin this fast. My body is running on its own agenda, and it doesn’t check with my brain first.
Even when angry and threatening to end me, she was breathtaking.
The way she moved — every motion was deliberate, nothing wasted.
The flash of her eyes, the way her lips almost revealed something vulnerable.
I can still feel exactly where her arm pressed into my throat, where her knee dug into the mattress beside me, and my body has zero shame about its reaction to the memory.
What the hell is wrong with me? She’s literally holding me prisoner, has actual fangs, and yet all I can think about is what it would be like to have her in this bed with me again.
Okay, pull yourself together.
I know I need to find Thea. She might be in this God-forsaken place too. Maybe she’s also being held captive by the sexy Commander. I won’t be able to figure out what the hell is going on from inside this cell.
On my feet, I move toward the bars, the echo of my steps bouncing off the stone walls.
The iron rods feel ice-cold against my fingertips as I inspect them carefully.
They’re set in stone above and below me, with rust flaking off where moisture has eaten away at the metal.
Very medieval. And I’d need a tank to even bend them.
But maybe I don’t. I reach between the bars and feel around for the keyhole.
They didn’t take my clothes, so I bet they never checked my pockets.
I reach into them, and sure enough, I find my pen.
When you work at a diner, you always keep an extra pen since customers like to run off with them after signing their bill.
I move the chair over to the bars and break off the tiny clip on the pen cap. Kneeling on the chair, I reach through the bars and find the keyhole.
Time to blow this joint.