Chapter 18 - Skylar
The first thing I notice is the burning.
A searing pain that pulls me from unconsciousness like a hand dragging me up from deep water that starts in my throat and radiates outward. I try to swallow, but something metal presses against my skin, and the movement only makes the burning worse.
Silver. There’s silver around my neck.
My eyes fly open, and I immediately regret it.
The room spins in sickening circles, and my stomach lurches in response to whatever drug they used to knock me out.
I squeeze my eyes shut again and focus on breathing until the nausea passes.
In through my nose, out through my mouth.
The same rhythm I teach my patients when they’re overwhelmed with pain.
When I open them a second time, the world has stabilized enough for me to take in my surroundings.
Concrete walls stained with moisture. The concrete floor cracked in places and cold against my legs.
A single bare bulb hangs from the ceiling and flickers every few seconds like it might give out at any moment.
No windows. One metal door with a small slot near the bottom, probably for sliding food through.
A cell. I’m in a cell.
I try to reach for my wolf, but the silver collar blocks the connection like a wall of static.
She’s there—I can feel her pacing somewhere deep inside me—but I can’t access her strength, her senses, her instincts.
The collar has cut me off from half of myself, and the loss leaves me feeling hollow and exposed.
My hands are bound behind my back. I test the ropes and find them tight but not impossibly so.
Whoever tied them knew what they were doing, but they weren’t trying to cut off my circulation.
The knots dig into my wrists when I twist my arms, though I can feel the slightest give in the fibers.
Not enough to slip free, but maybe enough to work with if I’m patient.
Small mercies.
“Hey.” The voice comes from somewhere to my left, soft and raspy like the speaker hasn’t had water in too long. “You’re awake.”
I turn my head too fast, and the room wobbles again.
When it settles, I find myself looking through a set of iron bars into an adjacent cell.
A woman is slumped against the far wall.
She’s thin—too thin, like she hasn’t eaten properly in weeks—and bruises dot her pale skin in various stages of healing.
Yellow and green ones that are almost gone sit alongside fresh purple marks that look only days old.
A silver collar identical to mine circles her throat, and the skin beneath it is red and blistered.
“Who are you?” My voice comes out as a croak with my throat raw from the chloroform.
She unfolds herself slowly as she inches closer to the bars between us, and I notice that she favors her right leg when she walks. “Dina Marchetti. You’re from Silvercreek, right? I heard them talking about you when they brought you in.”
“Skylar.” I push myself into a sitting position, though my bound hands make the process awkward and painful. The concrete scrapes against my palms as I lever myself up, and I have to lean against the wall behind me for support once I’m upright. “What is this place?”
“No idea. Somewhere in the mountains, I think, based on how cold it gets at night.” Dina wraps her arms around herself as if the mention of cold has reminded her body to feel it.
“They brought me here about three weeks ago. Maybe four. It’s hard to keep track without windows or any way to tell day from night except for the guard rotations. ”
Three weeks? This woman has been trapped here for three weeks with a silver collar burning her skin and no contact with the outside world. No way to know if anyone is looking for her or if she’s been written off as dead. The thought makes my stomach turn.
“What pack are you from?” I ask.
“Ridgewood. It’s a small pack about sixty miles east of here.
” Dina’s voice catches on the name, and she has to swallow hard before she can continue.
“The Cheslem wolves hit us without warning in the middle of the night. They killed most of our fighters in the first wave and scattered the rest. I don’t know how many survived.
” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “I don’t know if anyone survived. ”
“I’m sorry.”
The words feel inadequate, but Dina nods anyway. I’m sure she’s heard empty condolences before, probably from the guards who mock her with false sympathy. At least mine are genuine.
“You’re Bryan Dinac’s mate. That’s what they said when they carried you in. ‘The Black Ops wolf’s woman,’ one of them called you. They seemed excited about it.”
I nod because there’s no point in denying it. If they brought me here because of Bryan, they already know exactly who I am and what I mean to him. Lying about it would only make me look weak.
“Then you’re the reason I’m still alive.
They were going to kill me last week. Said I wasn’t useful anymore since my pack couldn’t pay a ransom, and nobody was coming to rescue me.
But then they found out Bryan was back in Silvercreek, and suddenly they needed a backup plan in case grabbing you didn’t work out.
My father was Black Ops. He worked with Bryan for years before he retired to Ridgewood.
I guess Rafe figures he’ll want to avenge my father’s death or something. ”
My stomach turns at the casual way she describes it, like she’s had weeks to make peace with being carved up for parts.
“That’s horrible, Dina.”
“Two hostages, two different targets.” Dina shrugs, though the movement makes her wince.
That’s what this woman has been reduced to. A bargaining chip. A piece of meat to be threatened, traded, and disposed of when she’s no longer needed.
“How many guards?” I ask because I need to focus on something practical before the horror of this situation gets the better of me.
Dina glances toward the metal door and drops her voice even lower.
“There are four on rotation during the day and two at night. They change every six hours. I’ve been counting the footsteps and the voices to keep track.
The one with the scar across his nose is the meanest. He likes to kick the bars when he walks past and try to make you flinch.
If you don’t react, he gets bored faster. ”
“What about the leader? Rafe?”
Dina’s eyes dart toward the door again as if saying his name might summon him. “He comes and goes. Mostly goes. I think he has other things to deal with. He’s planning something big, from what I’ve overheard. The guards talk sometimes when they think I’m asleep or too weak to pay attention.”
Before I can ask what she’s overheard, footsteps sound in the corridor outside. Heavy boots on concrete, getting closer with every step. Dina scrambles backward until she’s flat against the far wall of her cell, and I understand immediately that whoever is coming is someone to be afraid of.
The metal door swings open with a screech of rusted hinges, and a man steps through.
He’s younger than I expected. Mid-twenties, maybe, with dark hair and eyes that remind me of someone I can’t quite place.
He’s handsome in a menacing way, but there’s something off beneath the surface.
His smile doesn’t warm his face. It just sits there like a mask he’s learned to wear, and behind it, there’s nothing but emptiness.
“Skylar.” He says my name like he’s tasting it, rolling it around on his tongue. “Bryan’s mate. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
I keep my face blank and my body still, though my heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
“No questions?” He crouches in front of my cell and brings himself to eye level with me.
Up close, I can see the resemblance I couldn’t place before.
Something in the energy around him. He looks like the corrupted wolves I treated after the purification, the ones who still carried traces of Matthias in their features.
“No demands to know who I am or what I want? I’m almost disappointed. Bryan always did like the quiet ones.”
“I know who you are,” I reply. “You’re Rafe. Matthias’s son.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“I’m a healer. I treated wolves who survived your father’s corruption. I know what the Cheslem pack was. I know what it did to its own members.”
“What it was. Past tense. Because your precious Silvercreek destroyed everything my father built. Luna and her pet witches tore the corruption out of our wolves as if it were a disease to be cured, and they called it mercy. And Bryan—your mate—killed my brother.”
“Your brother was dangerous. He was trying to restart the corruption. Bryan stopped him before he could hurt more people.”
Rafe’s hand shoots through the bars so fast I don’t have time to react. His fingers close around my jaw, and he squeezes hard enough to make my eyes water.
“My brother was trying to save our people. He was trying to rebuild what your pack destroyed. And Bryan murdered him for it.”
I can’t speak with his hand crushing my jaw, so I just glare at him. I refuse to show fear. I refuse to give him what he wants.
After a long moment, Rafe releases me and stands. I suck in a breath and resist the urge to roll my jaw, to show any sign that he hurt me.
“Bryan took my brother.” Rafe’s smile returns, empty and cold. “So I’m taking his mate. Fair is fair, don’t you think?”
“What do you want?” I manage to ask, though my jaw aches where his fingers dug in.
“I want Bryan to suffer.” Rafe straightens his jacket like we’ve been having a pleasant conversation over tea.
“I want him to know you’re here, in pain, because of the choices he made.
I want him to come for you—because he will, we both know he will—and I want to watch his face when he realizes he’s too late. ”
“He’ll kill you. Whatever you’re planning, he’ll find a way to stop it.”
Rafe doesn’t seem concerned by the possibility. “Maybe. But by then, Silvercreek will be burning, and there won’t be anything left worth saving.”
He turns and stalks toward the door without elaborating. I want to call after him, demand to know what he means, but I stay silent. Showing too much interest will only give him more power over me.
The metal door clangs shut behind him, and his footsteps fade down the corridor until silence swallows them.
I wait until I can’t hear anything but my own breathing before I let out the breath I’ve been holding. My face throbs where he grabbed me, and my neck burns where the silver collar touches my skin. But I’m alive. For now, I’m alive, and that has to count for something.
“Are you okay?” Dina whispers from her cell.
“Fine.” I test my bound hands again and search for any give in the ropes. “What did he mean about Silvercreek burning?”
Dina crawls closer to the bars between us with her voice dropping so low I have to strain to hear it.
“I’ve been listening to the guards when they talk.
They think I’m too weak to pay attention, so they don’t bother being careful around me.
Last week, I heard two of them talking about explosives.
Something about planting them in key locations throughout Silvercreek and waiting for the right moment to set them off. ”
My face tingles as the blood drains from my face. “How many explosives?”
“I don’t know, but it sounded like a lot from the way they were talking.
Enough to do serious damage.” Dina’s eyes are wide and frightened.
“They’re planning something coordinated.
The attack on your border, grabbing you…
I think it’s all meant to distract your pack while they get everything else in place. ”
I close my eyes and will myself to think. Bryan will come for me. I know he will, because that’s who he is. But if Rafe is expecting him, if this whole kidnapping is just bait in a larger trap, then walking into a rescue could get Bryan killed and leave Silvercreek defenseless.
I need more information. I need to understand exactly what we’re dealing with.
“The guard rotations,” I begin as I open my eyes. “Tell me everything you know. Every detail, no matter how small.”
Dina nods and begins to speak with her voice barely above a whisper. I listen carefully and memorize every detail she shares.