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Not only am I aching from sleeping on stone, the bruises covering my body from the fight last night have taken hold.
Man, I haven’t felt this beat up since the intro to Krav Maga lessons I took last year for self-defense. I only made it through three classes before I quit. My one takeaway from the course: my forte is magic, not physical altercations.
Not that magic does me any good with this stupid collar.
If I had known getting my magic taken from me was an option, I would have gone to the fourth lesson.
Footsteps approach in a steady rhythm and stop outside my cell. I watch the shifting shadow of my visitor as he blocks the little strip of light seeping in from the bottom of the door.
The lock disengages with a heavy thunk, and I brace myself for a second round with Egan.
I ball my hands into fists, digging my nails into the meat of my palms to stop them from shaking. Except, it’s not the alpha that fills the doorway, but a stocky brute who stands hunched over and looks dead above the neck.
“Get up,” he orders. “Alpha is asking for your presence at breakfast.”
Yeah-no, I don’t think so.
I stay exactly where I am.
For all I know, Egan is planning to take me out back to make me the pack’s new chew toy.
“I’m good here, thanks,” I say from where I sit in the corner, rough brick digging into my spine. “Not hungry.”
I am—starving, actually—but he doesn’t need to know that. Whatever Egan’s plan is, I don’t intend to take part willingly. Is it smart to challenge a werewolf? Hell no.
Might it mean I’m more likely to become the pack’s breakfast than join them for coffee and toast?
There’s a good chance.
The wolf takes a sudden step forward and I flinch despite myself. “When I said Alpha is ‘asking,’ what I meant was ‘demanding’ you to come. You do not defy Alpha’s orders.”
Maybe this guy doesn’t, but I’m no werewolf and Egan is not my Alpha. “Yeah, still not happening, big guy.”
The wolf’s mouth turns up in a smirk that sends a shiver down my spine. “Put up a brave front all you want, but I smell your fear. It’s actually rather… arousing.”
His nostrils flare as he scents the air, inhaling a deep breath. As his wolf lets out a long, low growl, my skin crawls.
I regret the turn this has taken.
“I guess we’re doing this the fun way.” When he lunges to grab me, I scramble along the floor to get out of arm’s reach. My knee scrapes the rough floor as I try to push to my feet.
I don’t get very far.
The brute’s bulk takes up most of the tiny cell and there’s nowhere to go. He grabs my arm and tugs me out of the room.
Weak and tired with my magic locked down, I don’t stand much of a chance against someone more than twice my size equipped with supernatural levels of strength and aggression.
Outmatched or not, I put up as much of a fight as my battered body will allow, kicking, flailing, and jabbing with all my limbs.
The wolf grunts with each blow I land—more out of annoyance than pain—but doesn’t stop or slow down as he extricates me from my cell and drags me down the damp corridor.
When we reach the bottom of the staircase, I kick my feet out, the soles of my sneakers bracing against the first step.
My captor chuckles once and hikes me higher against his hip, carrying me around the middle like a cat tucked under his arm. Dammit. I don’t stand a chance against his strength.
My magic flares against the collar, trying and failing to come to my aid. The room tilts in response and nausea coils around my stomach like a python.
A low growl shakes through my chest as the wolf hoists me over his shoulder as if I weigh less than a flimsy pillow. The sudden shift in position upsets my stomach even more.
