19. Sloane #2
She was sprawled across a leather sofa that could have easily seated six people, its buttery surface warm from the fire's heat.
The cushions beneath her were so soft they threatened to swallow her entirely, and for a disorienting moment, she almost let them.
If not for the circumstances, the scene might have been cozy—a perfect evening by the fire in some luxury mountain retreat.
But the circumstances were impossible to ignore.
Sloane pushed herself upright, immediately regretting the sudden movement as her vision blurred and her stomach lurched violently.
The tranquilizer was still working its way through her system, leaving her feeling disconnected from her own body.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the sofa's arm for support, fighting down the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Sweetheart, you made this way more difficult than it ever needed to be."
The voice came from her left, smooth and controlled with just a hint of amusement threading through it.
As her vision cleared, she turned toward the sound and found herself staring at the man from the forest. He sat in a matching leather chair positioned at the perfect angle to observe both her and the fire, one ankle rested casually across the opposite knee in a pose of complete relaxation.
He was even more imposing in the firelight than he had been in the shadows of the forest. Tall and powerfully built, with auburn hair that caught the golden glow and ice-blue eyes that seemed to see everything while revealing nothing.
But there was something unnerving about the way he watched her, like a predator who had all the time in the world to enjoy his captured prey.
"I take it you're the infamous Darius Kade," Sloane said, pleased that her voice came out steady despite the drugs still clouding her thoughts. "The one who had my friend beaten and left for dead. The one who probably killed my mates' family."
Darius's lips curved into what might have been called a smile if it had contained even a trace of warmth. Instead, it was all sharp edges and calculated charm, the expression of a man who found genuine amusement in other people's pain.
"Oh, there's no 'probably' about that, sweetheart," he replied, his tone conversational despite the horrific admission. "But it was a failure that I learned from."
The casual way he spoke about murdering innocent people made Sloane's blood run cold, but she forced herself to remain calm. Getting emotional wouldn't help her situation—she needed information, and she needed to stay alive long enough for Ronan and Kozue to find her.
"How was murdering innocent people a failure you learned from?" she asked, genuinely curious despite her revulsion.
While she waited for his answer, Sloane reached out through the mate bond, testing the connection she'd only recently discovered they'd have once the bond was completed.
The sensation was still foreign to her—like trying to use a muscle she'd never exercised before.
She pushed her thoughts toward the invisible thread that connected her to her mates, focusing all her mental energy on a single, desperate message.
Darius captured me. I think I'm at his home.
The response came immediately, Ronan's voice echoing in her mind with crystal clarity.
We are coming for you.
She quickly projected back, I'm keeping him talking. He just confessed to killing your family.
The wave of fury that blazed through the bond was so intense it nearly knocked her off the sofa.
Ronan's rage burned red-hot against her consciousness, an Alpha's wrath that promised violence and retribution.
She had to bite back a gasp as the emotion crashed over her.
But Darius noticed her reaction immediately, his ice-blue eyes sharpening with interest.
"Oh, sorry," Sloane said quickly, forcing her expression into one of shocked confusion. "I'm just so stunned by all this. I'm still trying to understand why you wanted me in the first place."
Darius leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself now that he had her full attention. The firelight played across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the cold satisfaction in his eyes.
"Well, I originally wanted you because you made quite a name for yourself in the underground fighting circuit," he said, his deep voice taking on an almost conversational tone. "I liked your grit, and the fact that you had no friends or family was appealing for my purposes."
He paused, his gaze dropping to her neck where the fresh bite marks from her completed triad bond were still visible above the collar of Ronan's shirt.
"But now that I see you're capable of killing wolves with your bare hands, and based on those bite marks on your neck, you appear to be the mate of Ronan and Kozue..." His smile widened, showing teeth that seemed too sharp in the firelight. "Well, you just became my perfect weapon."
"How is that?" Sloane asked, though she was beginning to understand with growing horror.
"You may not understand the shifter world yet, sweetheart, but you being with me instead of them will make them weaker, give me the advantage I've been waiting twelve patient years for.
" Darius stood from his chair, moving with the grace of a predator as he began to pace in front of the fireplace.
"I can now take out both Ronan and Kozue, and then you will be my prized possession forever. "
He stopped pacing and turned to face her directly, his expression shifting from cold amusement to something darker and more possessive.
"I was so worried this whole plan was falling apart when you disappeared from the city, but your little adventure to Hale Lodge made everything line up better than I could've ever hoped for."
"I will never be anything to you," Sloane said, her voice carrying the absolute conviction of someone who had survived too much to be broken now.
"Well, you don't really get a say in that, sweetheart." Darius's tone remained conversational, but there was steel beneath the silk now. "See at first, I just wanted you to be one of my fighters. But now? Now I want you all for myself."
"I'm Ronan and Kozue's mate," Sloane said fiercely, pushing herself to her feet despite the lingering dizziness. "Hale Lodge is my home. I will never accept this."
"Well, when Ronan and Kozue are dead and Hale Lodge is burned to the ground, you'll see things my way," Darius replied with the patient certainty of someone who had never been denied anything he truly wanted.
"I can give you everything you've ever dreamed of.
You won't have to fight to survive ever again. "
The condescending way he spoke—as if he was offering her some grand gift instead of threatening to destroy everything she loved—finally snapped Sloane's carefully maintained composure. She'd heard enough of his delusional ramblings.
Without warning, she launched herself off the sofa and sprinted toward what she hoped was the front entrance of the estate.
Her bare feet slapped against polished marble floors as she raced through rooms that blurred past in a haze of expensive furniture and artwork.
Behind her, she could hear Darius's laughter—not panicked or angry, but genuinely amused, as if her escape attempt was nothing more than entertaining theater.
She made it to the massive front doors and was fumbling with the ornate handles when strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Darius pulled her back against his chest with ease, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke.
"I like it when you're feisty," he murmured, his voice carrying a hunger that made her skin crawl. "It turns me on."
Sloane's stomach lurched with revulsion, but the nausea was quickly replaced by cold fury. This man wanted to use her for his own twisted desires, murder her mates, and destroy the first real home she'd ever found.
Not happening.
She drove her elbow back into his ribs with all the force she could muster, feeling a satisfying crack as something gave way beneath the impact. Darius cursed and loosened his grip just enough for her to twist free and bolt through the front doors into the night.
The estate's grounds stretched out before her in the moonlight—manicured lawns and carefully tended gardens that would have been beautiful under different circumstances.
But Sloane didn't pause to admire the scenery.
She ran toward the tree line at the edge of the property, her bare feet flying over the cold ground as adrenaline overrode the lingering effects of the tranquilizer.
Behind her, she could hear Darius giving chase, his footsteps pounding against the marble steps as he emerged from the house. But more terrifying than his pursuit was the sound of his voice calling out commands to unseen forces in the darkness.
"Close the perimeter! She's heading for the eastern woods! Don't let her reach the territory line!"
The answering howls that rose from the forest made Sloane's blood freeze. She wasn't just running from Darius anymore—she was about to be surrounded by his pack.
Help me, she thought desperately, pushing the plea through the completed bond toward Ronan and Kozue.