Chapter 3 - Sera
Whatever they have pressed against my skin burns against my neck like a brand.
I can’t feel my wolf anymore. That constant presence that’s been with me since I was a pup—gone. Just an empty space where she should be, like someone reached into my chest and ripped out a vital organ.
Panic claws at my throat, but I force it down. Panicking won’t help. I need to think, need to find a way out of this before these bastards drag me wherever they’re planning to take me.
“Stop fighting.” The one holding my arms twists them behind my back hard enough to make my shoulders scream. “You’re just making this harder on yourself.”
“Good,” I spat at him. “I hope it’s really difficult.”
He laughs and shoves me forward toward the black vehicle. My feet slip on loose gravel, and I barely catch myself before face-planting into the dirt. Without my wolf’s enhanced balance and strength, I’m just a regular woman trying to fight off three men.
The odds are not in my favor.
“Feisty little thing, isn’t she?” Another one circles around to my front. He’s shorter than the others, stocky, with a scar running down his left cheek. “I like the ones who fight.”
“The boss said not to damage her.” The third operative—the tallest of the group—pulls zip ties from his pocket. “Llewelyn omegas are valuable. Especially ones connected to the leadership family.”
My stomach drops. They know who I am. This wasn’t random; they were waiting for me.
But how did they know I’d be traveling alone? How did they know my route?
Nobody in my pack knows where I am. They’ll assume I’m still safely in the archives, cataloging texts and minding my own business. By the time anyone realizes I’m missing, I could be anywhere. These Thornridge wolves could have me halfway across the region before my aunt even thinks to check on me.
I was so stupid. So reckless.
The tall one grabs my wrists and starts binding them with the zip ties. I try to pull away, but the one behind me has a grip like iron. The plastic bites into my skin as he yanks it tight enough to make me gasp.
“There we go.” Scarface grins at me. “Much better. Now you can stop pretending you have a chance.”
I reach for my wolf, desperate for her strength and speed. Come on. Please. I need you.
Nothing happens.
I reach again, pushing harder this time, trying to force the connection that’s always been there. My wolf has always answered when I called. Always been there when I needed her. But now, there’s just this horrifying emptiness where she should be.
Terror floods through me, cold and viscous. They’ve cut me off from my wolf. I’m trapped in my human form, defenseless and weak.
“What did you do to me?” My voice comes out shakier than I want, but I can’t help it. I’m fucking terrified.
“Just a little insurance policy.” Scarface reaches toward my face, his fingers bloody from where I bit him earlier. “Can’t have you shifting and causing problems, can we?”
Rage boils up inside me, hot and fierce. I might not have my wolf right now, but I still have teeth. I lunge forward and sink them into his hand for the second time.
He screams and yanks his hand back. Blood wells up from fresh bite marks, mixing with the ones I gave him before.
“You bitch!” He raises his other hand to strike me, but before he makes contact, something massive and snarling crashes into him from the side.
One second, Scarface is standing there about to hit me, and the next, he’s on the ground with a huge dark blond wolf on top of him. The wolf’s jaws close around his throat before he can even shift, and there’s a wet, crunching sound that makes my stomach turn.
Scarface’s body jerks once, twice, then goes completely still. Blood pools beneath him, dark and spreading.
The operative behind me lets go and scrambles backward, already starting to shift. His bones crack and reform as fur sprouts across his skin. The transformation takes maybe three seconds, and then a gray wolf stands where the man was, lips pulled back to show teeth stained with saliva.
The dark blond wolf releases Scarface’s throat and whips around to face the new threat. I get my first clear look at my rescuer as he moves between me and the gray wolf.
He’s enormous. Easily one of the largest wolves I’ve ever seen, with broad shoulders and powerful legs built for both speed and strength.
His fur is dark blond mixed with lighter streaks that catch the fading twilight, and his eyes are a vivid, shocking green that seems to glow in the growing darkness.
Those eyes.
I know those eyes.
But I don’t have time to figure out who they belong to before the gray wolf launches himself at the blond one with a snarl that bounces off the rocks.
They collide with a sound like thunder. The impact sends up a cloud of dust, and for a moment, I lose sight of them in the chaos. Then they separate and circle each other with hackles raised and teeth bared.
The gray wolf is smaller, built for speed and agility rather than raw power. He moves like a dancer, light on his feet, darting in and out as he looks for openings. Quick jabs with his teeth, testing the blond wolf’s defenses, trying to find a weakness.
The blond wolf doesn’t chase. Doesn’t waste energy on attacks that won’t land. He plants his feet and waits, muscles coiled and ready, tracking every movement with those vivid green eyes.
The gray wolf feints left, kicking up dirt with his paws as he changes direction mid-stride. Then he goes right, trying to use his speed to get behind his opponent.
The blond one doesn’t fall for it. He pivots on his back legs and catches the gray wolf’s shoulder in his jaws before the smaller wolf can complete his maneuver. Teeth sink deep into muscle and tendon, and I hear the wet sound of flesh tearing.
Blood sprays across the dirt in a wide arc.
The gray wolf yelps and tries to wrench free, twisting his body violently. But the blond one holds on, shaking his head from side to side the way dogs do with toys. Except this isn’t a toy. It’s living flesh being ripped apart.
More blood flies. The gray wolf’s front leg buckles under him, and he stumbles, barely keeping his footing.
The blond wolf releases his shoulder and immediately lunges for the throat, going for the kill.
The gray wolf twists away at the last possible second, those massive jaws closing on empty air instead of flesh. He uses the momentum to roll away and create distance, limping badly now on his injured leg. Blood drips from the wound with every movement, leaving a trail across the ground.
Behind me, the tall operative lets me go and shifts as well.
The wolf that emerges from the transformation is brown and lean with a white patch on his chest. He leaps from their vehicle and joins the fight.
He circles around to flank the blond wolf, moving with the kind of coordination that says these two have fought together before.
Two against one.
The blond wolf’s ears flatten against his skull, but he doesn’t back down. Doesn’t show any fear of being outnumbered. He just tracks both opponents with those green eyes, head swiveling between them as he works out angles and distances.
The brown wolf moves first, charging in low to go for the legs. It’s a smart move—take out the mobility, then go for the throat while your opponent is down.
The blond one jumps straight up, clearing the attack. His body arcs through the air with surprising grace for something so large, and he comes down with all his weight on the brown wolf’s back.
I hear the snap of bones breaking. The sound is loud and horrible, like stepping on dry branches.
The brown wolf collapses with a whimper that makes my heart clench despite everything. His back legs twitch uselessly, spine clearly broken. He tries to drag himself forward with his front legs, but he’s out of the fight. Finished.
The gray wolf uses the distraction to attack again, this time going high for the throat. He launches himself through the air, jaws wide, aiming for the kill.
The blond wolf sees him coming and meets the attack head-on instead of trying to dodge. They collide mid-air, both wolves snapping and snarling as they grapple. Their bodies twist together, a mass of fur and teeth and claws.
They hit the ground hard, raising another cloud of dust. The gray wolf gets his teeth into the blond one’s shoulder, right where the neck meets the body. Blood immediately darkens the fur, but the blond wolf doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t show any sign that he feels the pain at all.
He just keeps coming, driving forward with relentless force that pushes the gray wolf backward.
The gray wolf digs his claws into the dirt, trying to hold his ground. Trying to use his weight to push back. But it’s like trying to stop a landslide. The blond wolf is bigger, stronger, and completely unstoppable.
They crash into one of the rock formations with enough force to shake loose small stones from above. The gray wolf’s back hits the rock first, and I hear the air whoosh out of his lungs. His grip on the shoulder loosens, and that’s all the opening the blond wolf needs.
He rips himself free and goes straight for the throat.
The gray wolf tries to twist away, but he’s trapped against the rock with nowhere to go. Teeth find flesh and sink deep. The blond wolf’s jaws close like a vice, and he starts to twist, using his entire body to force the gray one’s head to an unnatural angle.
The gray wolf’s eyes go wide with panic. He releases whatever grip he still had and tries desperately to pull away, finally understanding he’s completely outmatched.
Too late.
The blond wolf’s jaws find purchase on the throat and clamp down. Hard.
The gray wolf thrashes, claws raking across his opponent’s sides and belly. I see fur tear away, see more blood spray, see the blond wolf’s body jerk with each impact. But he doesn’t let go. Doesn’t even seem to feel the wounds being opened across his torso.