Chapter Eleven
Landon
Pain woke me first, but it wasn’t sharp or overwhelming. Just a dull, throbbing ache sitting behind my eyes that made me groan. I tried to lift a hand to rub my face, but nothing happened.
I tugged again, but I couldn’t lift my arms.
Confusion immediately cut through the fog, and I snapped my eyes open.
Steel and concrete greeted me. Then I noticed the industrial lights hanging from the ceiling overhead, casting harsh yellow pools.
I was in a warehouse.
But where?
How’d I get here?
My stomach dropped as I glanced down at myself and then around me. I was tied to a goddamn chair. I tried moving again, but the rope bit into my wrists.
Memory slammed back into place.
Shit.
I’d been in Martin’s office.
The cloth.
The chemical smell.
A man grabbing me.
My pulse kicked up hard.
“He’s awake.” The voice drew my attention forward, and I saw Martin standing several feet away.
My boss. The man who’d hired me and smiled while someone kidnapped me.
Anger surged through me. “What the hell is this?” I demanded.
Martin sighed heavily, as if I was inconveniencing him. “You saw the files.”
I stared at him. This was about the financial reports, the discrepancies, and the fake transfers.
“You kidnapped me over accounting records?”
Martin rubbed a hand over his face. “You weren’t supposed to see them.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have committed fraud.”
His expression hardened. “Did you save any additional copies?”
I frowned. “What?”
“The files.” His voice sharpened. “Did you save copies anywhere else?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Did you share them with anyone?”
“No.” The answer came immediately because I hadn’t. The reports were still sitting on a USB in my bag at work. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “What’s this about, Martin?”
He suddenly looked tired and defeated. For one brief moment, I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost. Since he’d still kidnapped me at work.
Jesus. Who does this type of thing?
Scared idiots were who.
What the hell had I stumbled on?
Dashiel.
Was he worried?
Would Dashiel know something was wrong?
Was he looking for me?
Hopefully, he’d been waiting for me to come out at work, and when I didn’t, he’d have done something.
“Did you seriously drug me and tie me to a chair because I saw the discrepancies?”
Martin looked away. “I really wish you hadn’t seen them.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I offered. But I was lying my ass off. I was going straight to the police as soon as I got out of this.
If I got out of this.
That thought had my gut clenching.
Please let me get out of this.
When Martin said nothing in return, I did. “If you untie me and let me walk away, I’ll go home like none of this mattered.”
“I can’t,” he replied, and my heart leaped into my throat when movement appeared from the shadows behind him.
The second man. The one who’d grabbed me from Martin’s office.
He had broad shoulders and cold eyes along with the kind of face that enjoyed hurting people.
Ah fuck, now why are you thinking shit like that?
He stepped forward slowly. “He’s lying, Martin.”
Fear slithered through my veins.
Martin sighed.
The other man continued approaching. “I’ll get the truth out of him.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. Instinctively, I pulled against the ropes. “I didn’t tell anyone. I won’t tell anyone.”
The man kept coming. He wasn’t listening. He didn’t care what I said.
“I swear I didn’t share anything with anyone,” I tried again.
He took another step.
“I promise,” I cried, just before his fist crashed into my face.
Pain exploded as my head snapped sideways and the chair nearly tipped. For a moment, all I could hear was ringing while blood filled my mouth.
Turning my face to the side, I spat red onto the floor. “Jesus—”
The man grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me hard upright. “Tell me the truth,” he snarled. His breath smelled like cigarettes. “Or the next one hurts worse.”
“I am,” I whispered.
He dropped my shirt to punch me over and over.
Agony radiated through my jaw, my lip, and my cheek.
My face throbbed.
But he wasn’t listening to me.
He wasn’t hearing me.
I could die here if he didn’t believe me.
I could die and never see Monkey again.
Never see Dashiel.
My heart ached. He’d just received a fated mate, me, and it could be torn from him in moments.
I wouldn’t get to see his smile again, hear his laugh, or watch him while he tried things I suggested, or see the desire and longing in his gaze.
I wanted more time with him.
I want to kiss him again. Hug him. See him naked. Explore new things with him.
My heart ached and gut twisted at the thought of never having the chance to be with him.
I want him.
I wanted to be Dashiel’s and for him to be mine.
He was mine.
And there was a chance I wouldn’t get to see him, tell him, be with him.
More blood filled my mouth as I looked out through swollen, teary eyes. “I’m telling the truth.” The words came out quiet.
The man’s expression darkened. “I don’t believe you.”
“Not my problem” slipped free.
He pulled his arm back to hit me again, until Martin spoke, “Enough, Hawthorne.”
The name hit me like a lightning strike.
Hawthorne.
My brain stumbled, then clicked.
I knew that name.
I’d seen his signatures. He was real and in on this with Martin.
“You.” The word rolled free, making the man frown. “You signed them off.”
Both men froze before Hawthorne’s expression turned murderous.
Ah, fuck.
“Shit,” Martin muttered.
The punch came faster this time, and more pain collided with the rest across my face.
The chair rocked violently.
Stars exploded behind my eyes.
Hawthorne grabbed my shirt again, hard enough to choke me. “What else do you know?”
“Nothing.”
Another shake. “What else?”
“Nothing!”
Hawthorne raised his fist again.
Then—
A roar echoed outside. The sound rolled through the warehouse like thunder, making everyone freeze.
The noise came again, but it was louder, closer, and powerful.
My heart skipped, then started to race as warmth exploded over the ink on my wrist.
Dashiel.
He was close.
Yes. God, yes. Dashiel’s here.
He’s here.
My elf is here.
He’ll help me. Save me.
Hawthorne noticed my expression immediately. “What? Why the fuck are you smiling?”
A half-hysterical and half-relieved laugh escaped me.
Hawthorne frowned. “What are you laughing at?”
I grinned, knowing blood coated my teeth, and I probably looked crazed. Yet, I didn’t care. Not even when it made my lip throb and face hurt. “You seriously messed with the wrong person.”
Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed.
Outside, another roar shook the building before heat washed briefly through the warehouse. Not enough to burn but enough to warn and terrify.
It made Hawthorne’s expression shift for the first time to fear. He open-palm slapped me. “Who the fuck is that?”
My grin widened. “That’s my fated mate.”
He is mine.
All mine.
The words filled me with a ridiculous amount of pride as confusion flashed across both men’s faces right before the warehouse door exploded inward, making metal scream.
The massive roller door tore free from its tracks like it weighed nothing. Wild heat and fire slammed through the room. It was a display of gold and crimson and felt so alive.
For one terrifying second, it looked like the entire building would ignite, but the flames vanished in the next breath.
A figure stood in their place, and my breath caught.
Dashiel.
He stepped through the ruined entrance like an avenging god, his dark hair whipping around his face.
His glamour was gone. Completely gone. His pointed ears were visible, and power rolled from him in waves.
His eyes found me instantly. The fury inside them stole the air from my lungs, and every ounce of that rage was focused on the men standing between us.
“Dashiel,” I whispered.
His gaze swept to me and softened a little before his attention shot back to the men and darkened.
Behind him came others, the first of them elves, including several who looked like royal guards and three men who were similar to Dashiel.
Then there were the familiar faces of Riker, Razor, Soren, Spade, and— “Monkey.”
My son’s eyes locked onto me, and relief hit his face instantly. “Pops!”
“You’ve hurt my fated.” Dashiel’s voice was loud, deep, and rough.
Dashiel took another step forward, and the entire warehouse seemed to shrink around him.
Hawthorne gulped and moved back, while Martin looked like he might pass out.
Neither man understood what they’d just unleashed.
I did.
And for the first time since waking up tied to that chair, I wasn’t scared anymore.