Chapter 29 #2
Lucio and Mira. Both from Shadowcrest originally. He had been in love, separated from her, reunited. And now Lucio was helping Mira and Mary with their twisted revenge scheme because he was blinded by his feelings for her.
“We’ve never done anything to you,” I said, trying a different approach. “Lina never hurt Mira. I never hurt Mira. Whatever happened to her, whatever pain she suffered, it wasn’t our fault.”
Lucio’s expression hardened. “No, you didn’t. But she likes her friend Mary. And if Mary is suffering, Mira is suffering. And I do not fucking like that.”
“Let my daughter go.” I kept my voice calm, reasonable, even though everything inside me was screaming. “She’s just a baby. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She doesn’t deserve to be part of this.”
For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in Lucio’s eyes. Hesitation, maybe. Or doubt.
Then it was gone.
“Mira wants a baby,” he said simply. “So I’m going to give her one.”
What the fuck.
The words hit me like a physical blow. My vision went red. The handcuffs bit into my wrists as I strained against them, a growl ripping from my throat.
“You fucking touch my daughter-”
“Shut up,” Lucio said coldly. “Or I’ll make sure you can’t talk for the rest of the drive.”
He meant it. I could see it in his eyes. He would drug me, knock me out, leave me helpless and unconscious while he drove off with my baby.
I forced myself to calm down. Forced my wolf back under control. Blake needed me awake. Alert. Ready to act if an opportunity presented itself.
I would bide my time. I would wait. And when the moment came, I would kill Lucio with my bare hands.
The drive continued.
Three hours. Maybe more. Time blurred together, marked only by the changing landscape outside the window. We were deep into rogue territory now, far from any pack’s protection. The roads grew narrower, the forests thicker, civilization falling away behind us.
Then Lucio turned off the road entirely.
There was no path where we were going, no trail, just dense forest and underbrush that the SUV pushed through with grinding determination. Lucio seemed to know the way, navigating around fallen trees and rocky outcroppings with the confidence of someone who had made this trip many times before.
Twenty minutes of off-road driving later, a cabin came into view.
Big. Fancy. Well maintained despite its remote location. It had a wraparound porch and large windows and looked like the kind of place wealthy humans rented for ski vacations.
So this was where they’d been hiding. This was the base of operations for the people who had been terrorizing my mate, threatening my family, trying to destroy everything I loved.
Lucio parked the SUV and got out, taking Blake with him. He didn’t even look at me as he walked toward the cabin, leaving me handcuffed in the back seat.
“Hey!” I yelled. “HEY!”
He ignored me, climbing the porch steps and disappearing through the front door.
I was alone.
I strained against the handcuffs again, pulling and twisting, trying to find any weakness in the restraints. The metal bit into my skin, drawing blood, but I didn’t care. I had to get free. I had to get to Blake.
The sound of voices drifted from the cabin, muffled at first, then growing louder as an argument erupted inside.
I strained to hear, catching fragments of angry words and accusations.
Then a baby started crying, the wails piercing through the walls, and my heart clenched at the sound of Blake’s distress.
A moment later, another cry joined hers, different in pitch and tone.
Thomas. Cole’s son was here. Both babies were in that cabin.
I sagged against the seat, relief mixing with the fear and rage churning in my gut. Thomas was alive. If we could just find a way to rescue them both-
The front door of the cabin burst open.
Mary stormed out, her face twisted with fury. Even from here, I could see the rage radiating off her, could hear the venom in her voice.
“That’s not what I asked!” she screamed back at the cabin, presumably at Lucio. “I wanted the whore Luna, not him!”
Lucio’s voice came from inside, equally angry. “Well, this is what you get! Stop being a fucking pain in my ass. You want the Luna, go get her yourself!”
A door slammed inside the cabin, rattling the windows.
Interesting. They didn’t get along. The alliance between Mary, Mira, and Lucio was more fragile than I’d thought. Mira was probably the only thing holding them together.
That could be useful.
Mary stalked toward the SUV, her heels sinking into the soft earth with every furious step. She yanked open the back door and glared at me with eyes that burned with hatred.
“This is your fault,” she hissed. “Everything is your fault.”
I didn’t respond. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t make this worse.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a syringe filled with clear liquid. “Don’t try anything,” she warned. “Or I’ll drug you so thoroughly you won’t wake up for a week.”
Then she leaned in and uncuffed me from the bar.
I considered attacking her. Considered grabbing that syringe and jabbing it into her own neck.
But I didn’t know what was in it, didn’t know if it would actually knock her out or just piss her off.
And if I failed, if she managed to inject me, I would be helpless.
Unable to protect Blake. Unable to escape.
So I let her push me out of the SUV. Let her march me across the yard toward an attached building, smaller than the main cabin but just as well constructed.
A garage, from the looks of it. Converted into some kind of storage space or workshop.
Mary shoved me through the door and slammed it behind me. I heard the click of a lock engaging.
I stood in the darkness for a long moment, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light that filtered through cracks in the walls.
The space smelled of motor oil and sawdust and an earthy and thick scent I couldn’t quite place.
Tools hung on the walls, their shapes becoming clearer as my vision adapted.
A workbench sat in one corner, cluttered with various supplies.
No windows. One door, now locked from the outside.
I was trapped.
I took a step forward, scanning the room for anything useful, when a voice came from the shadows.
“Knox?”
I straightened, every muscle going tense, my wolf surging to attention. That voice. I knew that voice.
“Hunt?!” I spun toward the sound, searching the darkness. “Where are you? How the hell-”
I found him huddled in the far corner, barely visible in the dim light. And then I understood why I hadn’t smelled him the moment I walked in, why my wolf hadn’t detected his scent.
He was caked head to toe in mud. Thick, brown, sticky mud that covered every inch of his skin and clothes.
It was matted in his hair, smeared across his face, coating his arms and legs in a heavy layer.
The earthy smell I’d noticed when I first entered wasn’t just the garage.
It was Hunt, buried under pounds of clay and dirt that completely masked his natural scent.
“What the hell happened to you?” I crouched down beside him, assessing his condition. He was injured, that much was clear. There was dried blood visible beneath some of the mud, and he was holding himself carefully, like every movement hurt. But he was alive. He was conscious. He was coherent.
“Mira,” Hunt said, his voice rough with exhaustion. “After she took me down, they brought me here and covered me in this shit. Said they didn’t want anyone tracking my scent.” He shifted, wincing at the movement. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Lucio,” I said. “He took Blake. I convinced him to take me instead of Lina.”
Hunt’s eyes widened through the mud. “Blake? The baby?”
“She’s in the cabin. Thomas is here too. I heard him crying.”
“I know. I’ve heard him too.” Hunt grimaced. “What’s the plan?”
“We wait for reinforcements. Noah, Ryder, the pack. They’ll be mobilizing by now. Lina will tell them what happened. They’ll find us.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then we will find our own way out.” I looked around the garage, at the tools on the walls, the workbench, the various supplies scattered around. “But first, we need to figure out how to get to those babies. They’re the priority. Whatever happens to us, we get them out.”
Hunt nodded grimly. “Agreed. So what do we know about the layout?”
I moved to the wall where the tools hung, examining what we had to work with. A hammer. Some wrenches. A saw that looked rusty but functional. “The main cabin is next to us. Front door faces east. I saw at least six windows on my way in, maybe more. Wraparound porch means multiple entry points.”
“There’s a back door too,” Hunt added. “I saw them bring in supplies through it earlier. And there’s a cellar entrance on the north side. They use it for storage.”
“How many people?”
“Mary, Mira, Lucio. That’s it as far as I can tell. No other guards. They’ve been relying on isolation and secrecy rather than numbers.”
I filed that away. Three against two, with both babies as hostages. Not great odds, but not impossible either.
“The cellar entrance might be our best bet,” I said, thinking out loud. “If we can get out of here after dark, circle around to the north side, get into the cellar without being noticed-”
“We’d still need to get from the cellar to wherever they’re keeping the babies without alerting anyone,” Hunt pointed out.
“One problem at a time.” I tested one of the wrenches, feeling its weight. “First we need to figure out how to get this door open.”
We were in the middle of examining the lock mechanism when the garage door opened again.
Mary walked in, hauling a large bucket.
A bucket of mud.
“Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the floor.
I didn’t move. “What are you doing?”
“I didn’t want you,” she said, her voice dripping with bitterness and resentment. “But I suppose Lucio is right. I can make you mine so thoroughly, your precious Luna will be forgotten.”
She laughed, and there was something unhinged in the sound. Something fractured and dangerous.
I saw it then, in the wild gleam of her eyes, in the erratic energy of her movements. Mary wasn’t just angry. She was insane. Whatever sanity she’d once possessed had crumbled under the weight of her obsession, her hatred, her desperate need for revenge.
Before I could react, she crossed the space between us and dropped onto my lap, straddling me, the bucket of mud beside her.
My wolf snarled at the unwanted contact, rage and disgust flooding through me. Her hands were cold and wet as she scooped mud from the bucket and started spreading it across my chest, my arms, my face.
I tensed, every muscle in my body screaming at me to throw her off, to shift, to attack.
But I forced myself to stay still. Forced myself to endure.
The babies were still in that cabin, and attacking Mary now would accomplish nothing except getting me drugged and chained. I needed to be smart, not impulsive.
“This won’t work,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “Not even tied up and kidnapped will I ever be yours.”
Mary’s hands paused on my chest. She looked up at me, her eyes glittering with a mix of madness and determination.
“We’ll see,” she said softly.
And then she went back to spreading mud across my skin, humming softly to herself, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.