Chapter 7 - Dorian
Turning back to the wall, I’m careful not to make contact with the silver. With my weakened inner wolf lying dormant somewhere inside my subconscious mind, the silver scorches my skin as if I’m nothing more than a measly human.
Like the one I’m avidly ignoring, even when I hear shuffling behind me. It takes every ounce of restraint to keep myself from glancing back. Just when it’s becoming painstakingly difficult to stop from looking back, I hear the sound of the shower spray and breathe a sigh of relief.
We’re locked in a cage made of solid silver, and the only thing my inner wolf seems to want is to be near the human woman. I scoff to dismiss the ridiculous notion that she’s my mate and go back to inspecting the floor for a way out.
Jackson is crazy, but he’s smart—I’ll give him that much. As far as I can tell, there’s no way out of this cage. The door is a high-tech fixture that only becomes visible when Jackson scans his hand on the outside. The small vents near the ceiling aren’t big enough to fit a body through—not even a body as small as Amelia’s.
The thought prompts me to turn toward the bathroom stall where steam escapes from the gap between the wall and the ceiling. I don’t have x-ray vision—even when my wolf senses are intact—but I suddenly envision Amelia standing in the stall naked.
Gulping hard, I turn my face away and stare at the floor in disbelief. I can’t believe I just imagined that—an image that I can’t seem to get rid of.
Fuck!
I need to find a way out of here before I do something reckless. Curling my fists at my sides, my patience is hanging by a thread the more I realize that there’s no way out of here.
Getting to my feet, I notice the vent up ahead lifting slightly as if it’s automated. It’s too far up to reach, so I pull up a chair to get me high enough to inspect the vent. Just as I suspected, the flaps are automated, and they’re opening up to let in a mist into the cage.
Sniffing, I recognize the smell of ether and realize the mist is a gas. Panic thrums through me, setting me into a frenzy as I hop down from the chair and curl my arm over my nose, breathing against the fabric of the blouse.
Thick clouds of gas already fill the bathroom stall where the shower spray has stopped. My instincts kick in, and I rush to the bathroom just in time to see Amelia swaying unsteadily on her feet.
“Amelia!” I call out, for the first time using her name to address her. But the monumental moment that might have struck a chord inside me is lost when she sighs and her knees buckle under her.
I catch her just as her eyes roll to the back of her head, taking care to keep the towel against her chest while trying to keep my nose covered. The condensation of the shower water’s heat in the small space must have amplified the effects of the ether-like gas. That’s why Amelia passed out so quickly.
Glancing at the door, I know I have to stay conscious for as long as I can. That way, when someone unlocks the door, I’ll fight my way through.
But first, I need to put Amelia down. Holding my breath, I pick her up and lay her on the bed, then frown. A chilling thought comes to mind when I see her petite body in nothing but a towel, lying helplessly unconscious on the bed.
I’m suddenly compelled to be mindful of her integrity, bearing in mind that this woman is my mate. If the rogue wolves came in now, I can’t let them see her like this. It’s her honor that’s at stake—an honor that I must protect at all costs.
I quickly pull the blanket over her body, tucking the corners under her shoulders. It’s not nearly enough to keep her decent, but it will have to do.
As long as I can hang onto my consciousness, just until—
***
I groan when I feel the way my blood drains from my veins, unable to find the courage to open my eyes.
I’d somehow failed to stay awake when the gaseous tranquilizer filled the cage. It was meant to knock me out so that I’d end up here, tied to the chair in the warehouse and hooked to the machines that siphoned my life force.
“Amelia…” I murmur sullenly, recalling how I tucked her underneath a blanket when she passed out.
A sinister chuckle prompts me to open my eyes to find Jackson grinning over me.
“Concerned about your mate, are you?” he chides as he flicks the needle of the syringe in his hand, squirting a few drops of rich ruby blood in front of his face to remove the air bubbles from the injection. He meets my eyes, a smirk toying on his lips as he injects himself, sucking in a deep breath as my blood flows through his veins.
I stare blankly at him, too defeated to care now that I’m back here, tied to the chair with silver chains and paralyzed with wolfsbane. My mind is operational enough to notice that Jackson doesn’t shoot my blood straight into his veins once it’s drained from my arms.
There’s a vial on the table that’s labeled “antidote”. It’s probably an antidote for the wolfsbane, mixed into my blood before he injects himself.
I need to get my hands on that vial…
“I'm glad you're getting along with my sister,” Jackson laments with a pat on my shoulder. “ Brother-in-law.”
I glower at him when he calls me that, appalled by the association with him that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, let alone myself. Without a reason to remain civil, I spit in his face when he leans in.
He doesn't flinch. Instead, he calmly wipes my saliva from his nose, an ominous smirk growing on his lips as he steps back. A growl rumbles from deep within his chest, signaling the terror that lurks in the monster of a man.
I frown when I hear the sound of fabric tearing, noticing the seams of his sleeves ripping as the buttons from his shirt shoot across the air.
Eyes widening in horror, all I can do is watch as a faded shade of brown, greasy fur unfurls across the human's bulging arms that twist and stretch as they enlarge. His face contorts and his brows strain with what appears to be pain, but Jackson doesn't give up and pushes through until he's in the mangled form of a mutant werewolf.
Long legs with inverted knees keep the hybrid human-wolf towering over me, his menacing, gruesome figure sending a chill down my spine. The pungent smell of damp moss and decaying flesh fills the air—a foul smell prescribed to a rogue werewolf. It’s how a wolf that belongs to a pack can identify a homeless, merciless rogue.
The only difference is that the smell is stronger now, more gut-wrenching than anything I’ve ever faced, along with the human’s frightening form of the beast. When he leans in, glaring at me through the abominable beads of his blackened eyes, bile rises to the top of my throat like poison souring my tongue.
I knew he was using my blood to turn himself, I just didn’t anticipate the extent of the ghastly creature standing before me. Holding my breath, I lean back as far as I can when thick droplets of foamy saliva drip on my face.
Sebaceous but coarse tendrils of fur brush against my cheek as the hybrid leans in closer, his repulsive breath hot and threatening at my ear while he growls lowly.
“ Do not forget your task, Alpha Dorian…” His voice steadily warns in the confines of my skull.
That’s when I realized we share a mind link—a telepathic form of communication that’s only meant to be shared amongst the members of a werewolf pack.
Jackson is an intruder in my mind, linked only because of the blood he’s been consuming.
I have to be extra cautious, careful not to think anything that might make him suspicious of my true intentions.
“ I know…” my inner voice replies as I narrow my eyes at him to douse any suspicions. “ I need to impregnate your sister.”
Jackson’s repulsive wolf nods as he steps back, his breathing unsteady as he turns his head and howls toward the door.
That’s when his henchmen enter and rush toward me while Jackson drops onto his forearms and strolls off behind me in his disfigured wolf form.
He can’t shift back into human form at will, it seems. His theft of the powers bestowed upon a werewolf at birth by the Moon Goddess is all new to him. He doesn’t have full control over it yet.
It will work to my advantage, and I make another mental note with the intent of putting all these puzzle pieces I’ve acquired together to form an escape plan. My eyes flicker to the antidote on the table, but I’m injected with poison again.
***
I wake up in the prison cell, groaning hopelessly as I push myself off the floor. Weakened by yet another dose of wolfsbane and whatever is in those injections that knock me out immediately, it’s a struggle to get to my feet.
“What happened?” Amelia’s timid, frightened voice murmurs from across the room.
Huffing under my breath, I throw her a weary glance just as I get onto my seat. That's all I can manage for now. Trying to use my shaken legs will only make me appear pathetic in front of the human girl.
It’s not like I care. I mean, I shouldn’t care what she thinks of me, but for some strange reason, I do. It keeps me sitting on the floor, crossing my arms over my knees as I stare at her wary face and note that she’s dressed.
She probably woke up and found herself huddled under a blanket and towel.
“You’re awake,” I remark dryly, to which she frowns.
“You’re always pointing that out…” she laments confusedly.
“Hmph…” I grouch under my breath, noticing that she doesn’t stop staring at me intently, her question lingering in the air. Instead, I explained that our captor released a gas into the cage that knocked us both out, and all she did was nod.
“Do you have any idea what your brother is up to?” I ask with a skeptically raised brow.
Amelia shrugs. “Not really, no. I thought I knew what he was doing until he proved me wrong.”
“What did you think he was doing?”
The woman gulps, turning her face aside in a sigh. “I don’t really know. I hadn’t spoken to him in eight y-years…” Her voice quivers, and I quickly realize the extent of the crime Jackson committed against his sister.
Curiosity wins over as I shuffle on my rear, getting comfortable before asking, “Eight years? What happened?”
Amelia turns brooding eyes on me, the light hues of hazel flashing with contempt. I’d just redirected her question back at her, and she’d noticed it.
“Our father died,” she explains, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she gnaws it in contemplation. She’s probably considering if she can tell me more, so I remain silent while I wait for her to continue.
“... He was a medical researcher who was trying to find a cure for cancer after our mother died when we were kids. But he died then, and Jackson swore to finish the research he left behind.”
“A cure for cancer…” I mull softly, brows furrowing. “Would this cure have anything to do with werewolves?”
She shrugs again. “I wouldn’t know. I left town when I realized Jackson was hell-bent on finishing what Dad started, and he didn’t care about anything else. He shows up after eight years, and kidnaps me to force me into a marriage,” she grouches as she throws a defeated hand in the air. “I didn’t even know werewolves existed until yesterday.”
When I notice the gloss of tears in her eyes, I somehow find the strength to get to my feet, a pang of sympathy gripping my heart. It’s my inner wolf, stirring as much as it can to compel me to go over and wrap my arms around her.
I have to stop myself, glancing at the sorry excuse for a kitchen that contains the bare essentials meant for our survival. Heading to it, I decided to distract myself from the human turmoil by preparing something to eat when my tummy rumbles as a reminder that my body needs to be replenished after having my blood drained once again.
Slightly woozy, I sway on my feet but clench my fists to compose myself at the kitchen table.
“Whatever research your brother was conducting has somehow led to the werewolves,” I explained casually. “But his goal isn’t to create a cure for anything. He’s harvesting my blood for his own gain.”
“What do you mean?” Amelia asks timidly from behind.
With a heavy sigh, I glance at her over my shoulder. “He’s injecting himself with my blood and it’s turned him into a hybrid human-wolf.”
Amelia gasps in shock, her eyes growing so wide and doe-like, that I’m gripped by another pang of guilt that forces me to look away.
“If he’s turning into a wolf, why does he want a hybrid child?” she asks.
I shrug diffidently. “I have no idea. All I know is that it can’t happen.”
“It won’t,” she blurts, her haste unsettling for my inner wolf who seems to be scratching at the surface of its hiding place to remind me that she’s my mate now.
It’s not that it matters. It shouldn’t even be valid, since Amelia is a human. It doesn’t count for anything.
With my lips pursed, I refuse to say another word in case I stutter and let it slip that the mate bond between an Alpha and his mate is the most important bond formed in the werewolf world. She doesn’t have a place in my world, since she’s only a human.
Even if she wasn’t a human, I could never consider mating with her. Conceiving a child would only lead to destruction since neither of us knows what Jackson’s true intentions are.
It doesn’t help that Amelia’s weakness and innocence seem to nag at my senses. It takes every ounce of self-control to dismiss the thought that she’s probably the first human who’s ever impacted me this much.
Snapped from my thoughts when a delicate hand touches my arm, I gasp and blench my arm away. When I look down accusingly, Amelia’s brows are knitted into a firm scowl as she sucks in a breath through her teeth.
“How long have you been here for?” she asks, lifting sorrowful eyes at me.
My heart skips a beat when I meet the warm, hazel depths.
Is that concern that just flashed through her eyes?
I must be mistaken.
“It’s been a few days,” I shrug nonchalantly, turning back to the kettle while an unsettled shiver courses through my spine. “He grabbed me on the fourteenth.”
Amelia sighs. “That’s exactly a week ago,” she murmurs, disappearing behind me.
I don’t bother to follow her movements, even when I hear shuffling near the bed. Gulping, I busy myself by pouring the boiled water into a mug and stirring in a tea bag.
Just as I’m about to tip the piping hot mug to my lips, Amelia comes back and holds out a small round metal container.
“You should use this on those bruises so they won’t scare too badly,” she offers, nodding at the container on her palm as she holds it up.
I chuckle bemusedly. “Why would I care about these bruises when I’m stuck in here?”
She lowers her eyes and blushes, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. “I care,” she admits hesitantly. “Out there, I’m a nurse.”
That explains the concern I saw in her eyes. It wasn’t personal—it’s part and parcel of who she is.
Still, I’m taken aback by her concern, and nod as I take the ointment from her. My fingers brush lightly on the smooth, delicate skin of her palm as I lift the container, sending a frightening current of awareness through my spine.
Amelia doesn’t move, her brows raised expectantly as if waiting for me to apply the ointment on my bruises. Toying with the container, I snicker and say, “You know… If I wasn’t being poisoned or held captive in a cage of silver, I’d have my wolf abilities that would allow me to heal without this.”
She looks up, frowning curiously. “Is that why the wall shocked you when you touched it earlier?”
I nod. “Silver is like kryptonite to a werewolf.”
“And you have healing abilities if it wasn’t for the silver?”
I nod again. Her question is a reminder that she knows nothing about werewolves, and despite her situation, she remains curious.
Why does it affect me so much?
To quell the unwarranted magnetic pull I feel toward the human, I distract myself by rubbing the ointment on my arm. “Thank you, Amelia,” I mumbled without looking at her.
Even though I can’t see her face, I sense her smile when she says, “You’re welcome, Dorian,” before walking away.
I opened my mouth to call out to her, suddenly regretting that I didn’t show more gratitude when she said my name for the first time. Her voice, gentle and lilting, remains in my mind long after she leaves and disappears behind the bathroom wall.
The compassion she just showed me has me realizing that she’s the polar opposite of her brother. There’s a gentle nature about her that must be protected at all costs, even if I’m not willing to admit that the mate bond means something and my inner wolf compels me to keep her safe.