Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
NELL
Bored. Bored now. Bored hours ago. Bored as I tried to fall asleep last night in this silent cabin. I'd grown so used to the hum of life that was New York City that I didn't know how to rest without the constant vibration.
I had finished the liquidation setup hours ago.
The protocols were live, working their way through the digital ether like a series of tripwires.
By now, the Volki’s board of directors would be staring at their phones in frozen horror as their liquidity evaporated into the dozens of escrow accounts I’d mapped out.
I had done my job. I'd done it well. So where was my golden parachute out of here?
Magnus had left me with no phone. Not to call any of my friends. Well, friend. I only had the one true friend. I felt certain I'd be seeing her soon enough. The only person I wanted to contact was the man whose bed I'd slept in last night without a single benefit.
Well, the bed did carry his scent. I had half a mind to buy a box of cigars once I got out of here and put them under my pillow. It hadn't been the best night of sleep, but it had been a horny one.
The dreams had been specific. Unhelpfully, cinematically specific. Magnus and his big hands. Magnus and his big feet. Magnus and his big…package.
I had woken up twice. The second time I had lain in the dark and had a frank internal conversation with myself about my situation. A man had kidnapped me, blackmailed me, and installed me in his personal cabin in the middle of nowhere. This had to be the beginning of Stockholm syndrome.
I walked into the small kitchenette, my bare feet silent on the polished wood.
On the counter sat a covered dish. When I’d opened it earlier, the scent had nearly brought me to my knees.
It was Red Red. Black-eyed pea stew, spicy and rich, exactly the way my grandmother used to make it, with the palm oil just starting to separate.
Next to it was a bag of plantain chips, the exact brand I used to hunt for in the specialty shops in Brooklyn.
Magnus hadn't just looked at my resume; he’d audited my soul.
He must've gone back through my grocery deliveries, my favorite takeout orders, perhaps even interviewed the ghosts of my past. It was a terrifying level of attention. Most men I knew couldn’t remember the color of my eyes after sitting across from me for an hour.
I wanted to hate him for it. I wanted to see it as the calculated move of a predator baiting a trap. But a small, traitorous part of me—the part that had spent a decade being the "useful" shadow at Sterling—glowed under the heat of that attention.
I turned away from the counter and paced to the window. It was a perfect afternoon. The sun was a bright, unapologetic gold, filtering through the ancient oaks in long, dusty shafts. It looked like a postcard for a life I’d never been invited to join.
Did I dare?
I debated with myself for an hour, the internal argument spinning in circles. My civilized brain told me to stay behind the unlocked door, to remain in the safety of the perimeter he’d defined.
I hadn't been raised to sit still.
I reached for the heavy brass doorknob. My hand trembled. I yanked it back as if the metal were white-hot. But I was not a scaredy-cat. I grabbed the handle again, twisted, and yanked the door open with my eyes squeezed shut. I half-expected a set of jaws to close around my neck.
Nothing happened.
I heard the high, sweet trill of a songbird.
The rhythmic thrum of crickets in the tall grass.
The scent of pine and expensive mulch. I opened one eye, then the next.
The world was still there. No wolves. No blood.
Just a sprawling, manicured wilderness that felt like a vacation I hadn't taken time off for.
I took a tentative step onto the porch. The wood was warm under my toes. Still no growling. I took another step, then another, descending the stairs until my toes hit the grass.
Was Magnus even here? Or had the business of crime finally caught up with him? I doubted it. A man like that didn't just disappear; he was a mountain. You didn't move a mountain; you climbed it, or you were crushed by it.
I wandered further into the garden, my eyes darting toward the tree line. I was looking for the golden eyes, the shadows that moved too fast to be human. The woods remained still. I let out a breath, feeling a strange, jagged sense of freedom.
"Hi!"
I screamed; an ungraceful sound that tore through the quiet, and nearly jumped out of my skin. I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it hurt.
Standing near a massive rhododendron bush was a boy. Or rather, a young man. He looked like a softer, younger, less-ruined version of Magnus. He had the same dark hair, but his eyes were bright and curious rather than cold and calculating. He was wearing a casual sweater.
"Are you my brother's secret lover? Because if you are, you're way prettier than any girl he could pull."
So many things hit my head. Brother. Lover. Pretty.
"Actually, I don't know what kind of girl he can pull. Magnus doesn't date much. At least not out in the open."
"That's enough, Ivar."
I had been enjoying Ivar's chatty voice and the information he was divulging. The second voice sounded like it was Mount Everest. Cold. Deadly. Unforgiving. The mountain range moved closer, dark gaze narrowed on me as if he would crush me if I took a wrong move.
This man looked like Magnus would in two decades. Which to say was still devastatingly attractive. "This isn't Magnus's friend."
The way he said it made me want to be sad. Why should I feel sad about not being Magnus' friend? Couldn't be because Magnus Blackwood, even though he'd technically kidnapped me, had taken better care of me than any partner had in years.
"This is Addie's friend, Nell. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir." I have no idea why I called Mr. Everest — I mean Mr. Blackwood, sir. It just felt appropriate.
What I knew about wolves I'd learned from Twilight.
There was an alpha right. It was usually the father.
This was Magnus's Carlos. Or wait? Wouldn't that be Billy Black?
But Mr. Black wasn't an alpha. Alpha Blackwood's smile wasn't the patronly sort from one played by the actor in the film.
His hand around his young son's shoulder was one of protection.
He looked at me as if I could be a threat.
A threat he smiled at. That felt even more dangerous.
"Any friend of Addie's is a friend of mine." Ivar came closer, reminding me of a puppy with a wagging tail, eager to make a new friend.
Alpha Blackwood let him, but he kept that unfriendly smile focused on me. I felt as if I was walking into a trap. But at least I wasn't in the cabin any longer.
"We should let Nell get some rest, Ivar. She was there at the park the other day with your brothers. She's had a shock."
"Oh," Ivar's face became compassionate. "You just found out there are werewolves. You look like you're holding up okay. I think most of my human friends would piss their pants — especially the jocks who play Call of Duty."
"Any guy who sits on a couch playing with a video game gun would piss their pants in a crisis," I said.
Ivar threw back his head and laughed at that. I caught a slight glint of approval in Alpha Blackwood's eyes.
"Well, Addie's a wolf, so I figure you can't all be bad."
Ivar wrinkled his nose. "You haven't met my brother Gunnar, or you wouldn't say that. Wanna come to the house? Ma's baking ginger cookies."
I looked again to the alpha. He gave a nod of consent. I knew he could take my head off, but I also didn't want to go back into the cabin. This wasn't running; it was just moving cages. And the other cage had cookies.
I fell into step behind Ivar, who had already launched into a culinary review of how his mother's cookies were superior to every other cookie in the known world. I was so focused on not tripping over the uneven ground in my bare feet that I almost missed it.
Alpha Blackwood's chin lifted slightly. Not toward me. Not toward Ivar. Past me. The small, precise nod of a man communicating with someone he did not need to look at directly because he already knew their position.
At the tree line, sliding back into the shadow of the pines was a shape too large to be a dog. Dark fur. Golden eyes caught the light for one moment before the trees swallowed them whole.
I had thought I'd been alone on the porch. I had thought I'd wandered out unobserved, taken my tentative steps onto the grass, breathed the open air of a woman briefly unsupervised.
I had been watched the entire time.