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As the initial shock wears off, my thoughts race frantically, trying to make sense of it all. Is this just a creepy Uber driver? A random act of violence? But something about his words, the way he said my name, nags at me. It's familiar in a terrifying way.
Then it clicks. The threatening messages. The constant fear. The reason Marcus was assigned to protect me. This isn't some random creep. This is him. The stalker. The one who's been tormenting me and other women in the pack.
Fear paralyzes me anew as the full weight of the situation crashes down. This can't be real. This has to be a nightmare. But the rough fabric of the car seat under my fingers, the acrid smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the interior, the cold sweat trickling down my back—it's all too visceral to be a dream. I'm trapped, and the monster I've been running from has finally caught up with me.
I lunge for the door handle, yanking at it desperately, but it doesn't budge. Child locks. I'm trapped.
"Now, now, Zoe," the man says, his tone mockingly soothing. "There's no need for that. We're going to have a nice little chat, you and I. About how you've been a very naughty girl, cozying up to those mutts."
Without taking his eyes off the road, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a syringe filled with an ominous clear liquid. He holds it up so I can see it in the rearview mirror.
"See this?" he says, his voice cold. "If you don't settle down right now, I'll have to use it. And trust me, you don't want that. So be a good girl and sit quietly, or you'll wake up with one hell of a headache. Understand?"
I nod, my whole body trembling with fear.
"Good girl," he sneers. "You'll fit right in with the other one. She's been so well-behaved."
My heart skips a beat. Other one? He already has someone else? The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the fight drains out of me. I can't risk getting hurt or killed when there's someone else depending on me to get help.
The car lurches as we turn onto what feels like a dirt road, each bump and pothole sending jolts of pain through my body. I grit my teeth, determined not to make a sound. I won't give my captor the satisfaction of hearing my discomfort.
After what feels like hours, but could have been mere minutes, the car comes to a stop.
The doors swing open. A rough hand grabs my arm, yanking me out of the vehicle. I stumble, but manage to stay upright.
I take in my surroundings. We're in a small clearing, surrounded by dense forest. A rustic cabin stands before us, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the wilderness around it. In any other circumstance, it might have been charming. Now, it looms ominously, a prison disguised as a retreat.
"Move," my captor growls, shoving me towards the cabin.
We enter the cabin, and he steers me towards a door that clearly leads to a basement. My stomach churns as we descend the creaky stairs. The basement is dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and mold.
"Welcome to your new home," he sneers, pushing me into the room and slamming the door as he leaves. I stumble, nearly falling, but catch myself at the last moment. My heart races, fear clawing at my throat as I realize the gravity of my situation.
As I regain my balance, I realize I'm not alone. In the corner is a familiar face – Chloe, the woman I'd hung out with at the pack house just last night. Her light brown hair is disheveled, and her glasses are slightly askew. Her kind eyes, usually bright with warmth, are now wide with terror.
"Zoe?" Chloe gasps, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with fear. "Oh god, are you okay?"
I nod, even though 'okay' is the last thing I feel right now. My hands shake as I try to steady myself. "I'm alright," I reply, my own voice sounding hoarse and unfamiliar, laced with barely concealed panic.
"Chloe, how did you end up here?" I ask, my concern for her momentarily overriding my own terror.
Chloe takes a shaky breath before responding, her eyes darting nervously to the door. "I live in a cabin near the edge of Whispering Pines pack territory. Last night, I was getting ready for bed when... when he broke in." Her voice breaks as she continues, fear evident in every word. "We all thought we were safe on pack lands. Nobody imagined the threat would dare to enter our territory."
The implications of her words sink in, and my fear intensifies. "The pack thought their borders were secure?"
Chloe nods grimly, hugging herself as if for protection. "We got complacent, especially those of us living on the outskirts. There was this false sense of security, you know? But him coming onto our land, taking me from my own home..." She trails off, shakingher head, her eyes filling with tears. "It shows he's escalating, Zoe. He's taking bigger risks, getting bolder. Who knows what he might do to us?"
I feel a wave of nausea at her words, the reality of our situation hitting me full force. Trying to gather more information, I ask, my voice quivering, "Do you know where we are?"
Chloe shakes her head, her fear palpable. "Some cabin in the woods, I think. We could be miles from help."
"Do you know the man who brought us here?" I ask, moving closer to Chloe, relief and dread mingling in my chest at the sight of a familiar face in this nightmare.
She nods, her eyes filling with tears. "It's Mark. Mark Anderson. He used to be part of the Howling Pines pack, but..." She trails off, looking away, her body tensing.
"But what?" I prompt gently, sensing there's more to the story, my own fear growing.
Chloe takes a shaky breath. "He was Sarah's ex-boyfriend. Sarah Mitchell, you know her? She just mated with Dr. Morgan. Everyone thought Mark had been banished from the area after... well, after things went bad with Sarah. But apparently, he's still here. And now he has us."
