Chapter 11
Mariah
Varek had fallen asleep faster than I thought he would.
One moment he’d been sitting upright on the cot, leaning against the stone wall, knife balanced across his thigh, silver eyes still glinting even in the dim lantern glow.
The next, his head tipped back against the rock, and his breathing deepened, but his blade was still gripped loosely in his hand.
I sat on the floor across from him, leaning back against the wall, the oversized shirt rolled at the sleeves, my knees pulled to my chest. The knife he’d given me rested in my lap. My gaze kept drifting to him even when I told myself to focus on the dark.
The cavern was quiet. The only sound was the slow drip of water from the ceiling, hitting the gravel floor in a patient rhythm. My heart should have slowed by now, but it hadn’t. Not after what I’d just lived through. Not after what I’d become.
Not after what I’d done.
I could still taste blood on my tongue, still feel the snap of bone and the rush of fur taking over my skin as if I’d split myself in two.
The feeling had been utterly alien. It hadn’t felt like me at all; I had no frame of reference.
And yet, I was the one who’d torn out that girl’s throat.
I’d done it to protect Varek. To survive.
I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees. My whole life had been spent waiting for the wolves to come, for the day they’d drag me away and use me like they’d used the others. And now… here I was, not just bound to one of them, but one of them.
Mated. Marked. Changed.
I looked at him again.
Even asleep, he didn’t look peaceful. His brow was deeply furrowed, and his lips pressed tight, like sleep was yet another battlefield he was fighting on.
The lantern light traced the scars across his chest and arms, some old, some newer, and his fresh wounds still raw, all of them carved into him like stories he’d yet to tell me.
He was a stranger. My mate, my savior, my captor, everything tangled into one. I didn’t know how to feel about him. I didn’t know how to feel about me.
I knew one thing though: at least I wasn’t in a cage anymore. At least I wasn’t being dragged into a sterile room, forced under a stranger’s hands, and told my body was nothing but breeding stock to be used as they saw fit.
It was a low bar for freedom, but still, it was something.
I shifted the knife in my lap, my fingers brushing the hilt again and again. The stone walls loomed heavy around me, but the shadows didn’t move. There were no whispers of boots, no glow of eyes in the dark.
Nothing.
I should have been relieved, but instead, I found myself watching him instead of the shadows.
His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that almost matched the dripping water somewhere off in the cavern. His hand twitched once around the knife but didn’t let go. He looked younger in sleep, though no less dangerous, the sharp angles of his face softened by the glowing light.
I let my guard down just enough to study him. The way his hair fell loose across his brow. The curve of his lips when he wasn’t scowling. The muscles shifting beneath scarred skin with each breath and twitch.
He was brutal. Ruthless. Terrifying.
And God help me, he was beautiful too.
I dragged my gaze away, cheeks burning, though no one was here to see me.
“This is all fucking crazy,” I whispered to myself, shaking my head. My whole life had been upended in a matter of days. I was a wolf shifter now. I had a mate. I had blood on my hands and still, somehow, I felt safer watching him sleep than I ever had in my life.
I leaned back against the cold wall, my knife across my knees, my eyes never leaving him for long.
The cavern was quiet, the world outside forgotten for a few hours and even though everything was chaos, even though tomorrow might bring death, betrayal, or worse, for tonight, I kept watch over the wolf who had claimed me.
I tried to focus on the drip of water from the ceiling, steady and patient. I tried to let my pulse fall into rhythm with Varek’s breathing, slow and even where he rested against the wall, but my mind refused to still.
I thought of the cells. The endless white walls, the smell of bleach, the whispers in the dark. The way every knock at the door had made my stomach twist because I didn’t know if it was my turn to be taken and bred.
And now, here I was. No cage. No guards waiting to drag me away, but I wasn’t exactly free either.
I shifted against the wall, pulling my knees closer. The knife felt clumsy in my hand. I wasn’t a fighter. Not really. But I’d killed someone tonight. I’d torn out another girl’s throat.
My stomach lurched. I pressed a fist against it, forcing the bile back down. I couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not here.
The lantern hissed faintly, the flame dancing.
I didn’t realize my eyes had started to close until a warm hand covered mine.
“Mariah.”
My head snapped up. Varek was awake now, his eyes watching me closely. His voice was soft and still rough from sleep.
“You’ve been awake too long,” he said.
I shook my head, tightening my grip on the knife. “I said I’d keep watch.”
He eased the blade from my hand with practiced fingers, setting it aside. “And you did. Long enough.”
I wanted to protest, but exhaustion pressed down on me all at once, heavy as stone. My eyes burned, my limbs ached, every nerve still raw from shifting.
He stood slowly, his limp more pronounced now. Blood had dried dark down his leg. Still, he moved with certainty, guiding me toward the cot.
“I can sleep on the floor,” I murmured, my voice too small.
“No,” he said simply. He pressed a hand to my shoulder, urging me down. The cot creaked under me, the canvas rough but softer than the stone wall.
He tugged a folded canvas from the supplies and shook it out, draping it over me like a blanket. Then he crouched, adjusting the edges until I was tucked in, his big hands surprisingly careful.
My throat tightened. “You don’t have to—”
“I know,” he cut in. His warm gaze met mine, softer now, but as cool and collected as ever. “But I want to.”
The words sank into me, unexpected and comforting.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. “Sleep, little wolf. I’ll watch now.”
A warm feeling spread through my chest at the sound of that.
Little wolf.
It shouldn’t have meant anything, but it did.
I turned onto my side, pulling the canvas tighter. My eyelids were heavy, my body aching for rest. Still, I forced myself to whisper, “Don’t leave me.”
His hand pressed gently against my shoulder. “Never.”
The steady drip of water from the cavern ceiling was the sound that woke me.
For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was.
The cot was rough, the canvas scratchy against my skin, the air damp and heavy with coal dust, but then I saw Varek sitting where I had been the night before, knife still balanced across his thigh.
“You slept well,” he said, voice low.
I pushed myself upright, groggy but feeling better than I’d expected to. “How was your watch?”
He gave a little shrug. “I’ve had worse nights.”
I rubbed my arms, the chill of the underground sinking into me. “Where do we go now?”
He stood, rolling his shoulders, grimacing at the stiffness in his injured leg. “The tunnels run for miles. Some lead to collapsed shafts, some to the surface. I know the safe paths. We’ll move while the base above is still distracted.”
I nodded, pulling my borrowed shirt tighter around me. It smelled faintly of him. It steadied me as much as it unsettled me.
We packed what we could carry: rations and water, the lantern, a few more of the knives, and the pistol. Then we slipped deeper into the tunnels.
The earth pressed close, damp walls beaded with condensation, the floor uneven with gravel and splintered wood. Varek moved with certainty, his stride sure even on the rough ground. I followed, each step echoing louder than I liked in the silence.
At first, all I felt was the ache in my body, every muscle tender from shifting and the trauma of the last few days, but the longer we walked, the more I noticed changes.
Heat stirred low in my belly. A flush rose under my skin, spreading through my chest, down my thighs, until even the damp chill of the tunnels couldn’t cool me. My breath shortened, my pulse quickened.
I pressed a hand against the mark on my shoulder. It throbbed faintly, as if it had its own heartbeat.
At first, I thought it was just fatigue, or the aftermath of the fight, but as the minutes stretched, the heat didn’t fade. It grew. Stronger. Deeper. My body hummed with it, restless, aching.
Varek glanced back at me once, his eyes narrowing faintly. He said nothing, but the weight of his stare made my skin burn hotter.
I tore my gaze away, swallowing hard.
What’s happening to me?
I’d heard whispers in the cells, of what happened to human girls after they were bitten, after they were mated.
Some said the wolves drove them into breeding cycles, like cattle.
Others swore it was different, that once the bond was complete, desire clawed at you until you gave in.
Maybe it was a side effect of the serum I’d been injected with. Maybe it was both.
My wolf stirred inside me, restless and prowling. It wanted to submit, to sink into him, to bare my throat and let him claim me completely, but my mind screamed to fight. To take control. To be more than just a she-wolf lying down to be taken by her mate.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard, my nails digging crescents into my palms as I walked. My body betrayed me with every step, the ache between my thighs building, my breath catching whenever we brushed too close together.
I hated it.
But, fuck, I wanted more.
Varek stopped suddenly, his hand lifting. I froze behind him, heart hammering, praying he couldn’t smell the heat radiating off me.