Page 132

"Ben," I croaked, my throat raw and dry. "Where...?"

"Some kind of cave," he answered, his voice tight. "I think we're at the old bear pack lands."

I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. The world tilted sickeningly, and I had to close my eyes again to keep from vomiting. My hand went instinctively to my stomach, and relief flooded through me when I felt the familiar flutter of movement beneath my palm. The cubs were still there. Still alive.

"How long?" I managed.

"A few hours, I think. It's hard to tell down here." Ben's voice cracked. "Danny, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

I forced my eyes open again, squinting at him through the gloom. As my vision adjusted, I could make out more details—rough stone overhead, a packed dirt floor beneath us, and what looked like a heavy metal door at the top of a short flight of stairs. No other exits that I could see.

"What happened?" I asked, finally managing to push myself into a sitting position against the cold wall. The movement made my head spin, but I gritted my teeth and rode it out.

Ben's face crumpled with shame. "I was driving back from delivering the supplies for your picnic. This guy—Christopher—was on the side of the road with his hood up, looking stranded." He laughed bitterly. "I stopped to help. Like an idiot."

"You couldn't have known—"

"I should have!" Ben's voice rose, echoing off the stone walls. "I'm half silver-skin, Danny. I should have sensed something was wrong. But he just seemed so...normal. So human, and he was on pack lands." He wrapped his arms around himself, looking younger than his nineteen years. "By the time I realized what he was, it was too late. He moved so fast."

I remembered that speed—the way Christopher had plucked my phone like I was moving in slow motion. "He fooled everyone, Ben. My brother's been working with him for weeks and never suspected anything."

"But Rhys would have known,” Ben whispered. “Rhys would have sensed what he was immediately."

"You're not Rhys," I said firmly, despite the weakness in my voice. "And comparing yourself to him isn't fair to either of you."

Ben fell silent, but I could see the self-recrimination still eating at him. I knew that look—I'd worn it myself often enough.

I took stock of our situation, trying to push past the fog in my brain. My neck throbbed where Christopher had bitten me, and I felt weak in a way that went beyond exhaustion. Blood loss, probably. The thought made my stomach turn.

"Has he fed on you?" I asked Ben, dreading the answer.

Ben shook his head. "No. Not yet." A bitter smile twisted his lips.

Small mercies. At least Ben wasn't weakened the way I was, but he was still chained.

"We need to find a way out of here," I said, stating the obvious because I needed to say something, needed to feel like I was doing more than just sitting here waiting to be used as bait.

"I can’t break these," Ben said, yanking on the chains that were bolted to the wall. “But even if I could—” He gestured toward the new-looking metal door. "It's solid steel, and there's no handle on this side. The walls are stone—old, but thick. I can't hear anything from outside."

I looked around the cave more carefully now that my eyes had adjusted. It was maybe fifteen-feet square, with low ceilings that made me feel claustrophobic even sitting down. No furniture, no tools, nothing we could use as a weapon.

"He said something about caves," I murmured, trying to piece together what Christopher had told me before I'd passed out. "On the north ridge. Where Bayer's father used to..."

I trailed off, the implication hitting me like a punch to the gut. The cage. Christopher had taken us to the place where Bayer had been imprisoned by his father. The psychological cruelty of it was staggering.

"Used to what?" Ben asked.

"Em told me Bayer’s dad used to lock him in a cage," I whispered. Fuck. What had I done?

"That's what Christopher wants," Ben said quietly. "He told me. You're bait, Danny. We both are."

"I know." I closed my eyes, fighting back tears of frustration and fear.

Guilt settled over me like a physical weight, pressing down on my chest until it was hard to breathe. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Bayer's face—the man who had carved a tiny bear family for me, who had planned a perfect picnic just to make me smile, who looked at me like I was the most precious thing in his world.

Danny?" Ben's voice was gentle, and I realized my cheeks were wet. "Are you okay? Is it the cubs?"

"No," I whispered, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "The cubs are fine. I'm just—" My voice broke, and I pressed my fist against my mouth, trying to hold it together.