by Jana Downs
The nickname brought back a cacophony of horrors as his eyes shot open, a whimper playing on his lips. He looked into the eyes of one of his tormenters and knew he’d arrived back in hell.
Gunter Hunter had been just like him. He’d been snatched from his walk home after a long night at the packing plant where he worked. They’d even been in the same cage at one point as Alpha Zeke and the rest of his scumbag minions had divided them up into conquests.
The similarities ended after the torture started.
Something Zeke had done to Gunter had broken him in a fundamental way. He’d started to admire his captors and eventually, he’d joined them.
Since Steve hadn’t cooperated from start to finish, Gunter had “volunteered” for the privilege of breaking in Steve himself. He shuddered at the memory. He would do anything to not feel the touch of Gunter’s hands on him or smell the acrid scent of his desire as he beat Steve as he hung suspended from the rafters like an overused piñata.
“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t.”
“I gave you plenty of freedom here, my prize,” Gunter rumbled, a possessive look of madness shining in his yellow eyes like glittering shards of glass. “I had to lie to the new Alpha in order to get them to leave me alone. That’s dedication. Yet you betrayed me with that filth. He didn’t even leave one mark on you.” The way he said it, like anything short of Steve’s abuse was a grievous offense, made Steve’s gut roil.
“Let me go, Gunter. You need help.” His mind raced. Mustang had promised that all the people associated with his torture and subsequent turning had been dealt with. He hadn’t been able to provide all the names, but he’d given Gunter’s and he had been sure someone in his group was going to give the rest of the names he hadn’t known. They probably thought Gunter was a victim, just another helpless pack member.
Boy, Mustang, you fucked that one up.
But it wasn’t really Mustang’s fault. It was his own. He should’ve been strong enough to face the pack beforehand. He should’ve known the fucker was lurking around somewhere.
“I don’t need help,” Gunter patronized. “You need help remembering what you were taught.” He trailed his hand down Steve’s naked chest, and Steve recoiled. “I’ll help you.”
The phrase was all it took for his wolf to break free from the fear holding him locked in human form. He shifted, the movement so quick that it tore through his muscles like an acid bath.
He immediately dropped to the ground, his teeth bared in fury. He was not going to be a victim of this man anymore. He wouldn’t be a victim of any person on this planet anymore. He’d fought too hard, suffered too much to give up at this conjuncture.
Another dart hit him on the side of his head right below his ear. He whined, scratching it off with a paw and a shake of his head.
“Damn it, Steve. I needed to have a longer talk than this.”
Another sting let him know that he was hit with another dart. Where they were coming from, he had no idea. It didn’t matter. He was already passing out again. It didn’t matter what he woke up to though, he would wake up swinging.
* * * *
Hope tried to show some patience and let Steve sleep in, but his patience was wearing thin by four p.m. He’d cleaned the whole house, washed the linens, and stocked up on food so they wouldn’t have to leave except to go to work. Hell, he’d even called his parents and listened to the squeals of delight from his mother and his father’s booming praises along with the demands to bring him by the house just as soon as he settled into Hope’s house and was able to deal with visitors.
He straightened the remote on the coffee table for the millionth time and then fished his phone from his pocket. No new text messages. Damn it.
He huffed. “Did you change your mind, Steve?” Maybe he’d gotten sidetracked by something Mustang was having him do. He worried his bottom lip. Or maybe he really had changed his mind and was avoiding him.
He sent a message. Hey, love. …Change your mind?
He jumped as his phone rang. His heart immediately started pounding in anticipation. A glance at the caller ID was a disappointment though.
“Hi, Alpha,” he said by way of greeting.
“Hi, Hope. Did you two have a good night?”
Hope chuckled. “Did Steve say something?” It would make sense that he did considering he was besties with the Alpha Mate.
“No. He didn’t call. I figured he stayed over. It’s not the normal course of mating for someone who is under the Alpha’s protection, but all things considered, it’s all right with me. Should I put in the paperwork?”
Everything in him stilled. “What? What do you mean he didn’t come home? I dropped him off a little before one.”
There was a good thirty second pause on the other end. “He didn’t use his key. It was still under the mat. We thought he stayed with you.” Alpha sounded like he was getting more worked up by the second. “You didn’t watch him get into the house?”
“Why should I have been concerned? He was on the porch when I pulled off,” Hope said defensively.
Mustang let out his breath in a whoosh. “I’m not meaning to be accusative. I’ll round up a search party and go from there. I’m worried he shifted and is off somewhere. Did you two fight?”
“No.” Hope gripped the arm of the couch so hard it creaked. “We were talking about happy stuff. He was planning on coming over tonight so we could complete our mating.”
“Maybe he’s getting cold feet?”
Hope sighed. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m afraid of. I told him that there was no rush.” Even if his wolf was snapping at the edge of his leash and fighting him every step of the way.
“I’ll call you back. You should head over here while I assemble. We’ll try to make sense of it. I need some better noses.”
“All right. Call me if you hear anything.”
“Likewise.”
They hung up.
Considerably disheartened, he pushed himself to his feet. He needed to change into something a little less formal than his green button-up shirt, black dress pants, and dress shoes. This was more of a jeans and T-shirt situation.
* * * *
It had been a long week. The days had stretched on between the search as they scoured the city for signs of his mate. Either the man was staying in feral form or he’d skipped town. Either way, Hope was a nervous wreck about it.
It was only after Grayson had demanded he go get some sleep that he complied with the request and dragged himself home to change, eat, and shower.
He headed down the hallway and into his bedroom that just big enough for his oversized furniture to fit into. Granted, he could’ve afforded a bigger place but he wasn’t planning on having kids anytime soon and he really didn’t believe in living beyond his necessities.
Just as he got his pants off, a knock on the front door had him sprinting down the hallway and back out into the living space toward the door beyond. He frowned as he caught sight of who was standing on his porch.
He disengaged the lock and swung the door wide. “Gabriel, right? What can I do for you?”
Gabriel’s eyes were wide, fear dancing in their depths. “Please, forgive me.”
Hope frowned. “What? Why?”
“Because I helped him. I’m sorry. I was so scared. He said he’d take me back and I wouldn’t know when he’d come for me. I couldn’t do it.” Gabriel was shaking from head to toe, getting more agitated by the second. “You’ve got to help him.”
“Are you talking about Steve?” If he was, what he was saying made no sense and yet was utterly terrifying.
Gabriel bit into his bottom lip. “Yes.”
A cold fear wound its way up from his toes into his lower abdomen. “Who?”
“Gunter.”
Hope’s frown deepened. “Wasn’t he one of the survivors?” He read a big article about Steve’s group just a few days ago. He’d made a note of the name because his last name had rhymed and he remembered th
inking his parents must’ve hated him.
Gabriel nodded. “But he… he liked it. I mean, I’m sure he didn’t to begin with, but when Alpha Zeke let him have us… He liked it.” He looked away unable to meet his eyes. “Please, he’s got Steve. We’ve got to go.”
“Where is he?”
“I’ll show you,” Gabriel said. “Just, please, help him.”
“How do I know you aren’t working with him?” Hope demanded. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
Gabriel bit into his bottom lip until blood trickled down his chin. “You can’t. You can’t know that for certain. I can only give you my word.” He looked at his feet. “Steve saved me. I owe him my life.”
“So you helped a sociopath kidnap him?” Steve snapped.
Gabriel visibly shrunk back, terror etched into his face. “I know I’m a coward.” He shifted. “I know I am.” He raised his chin. “But I’m an honest coward. Your mate is in trouble, and I’m trying to help you.”
Hope didn’t have any choice. If there was even the remote possibility that Steve needed him, there was no other course. He sent a quick text message to Mustang and then nodded at Gabriel.
“Lead on.”
Chapter Ten
Hope got out of the car at the end of a dirt road that dead-ended right off the state park. The wooden sign that was staked there advertised seasonal cabin rentals and nature trails. It would be the perfect place for someone to be left blissfully alone during off season.
“You’re sure this is the place?”
Gabriel nodded, shaking. “Yeah. He has been squatting in the cabin nearest the river for a while now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s okay. You remember what you’re supposed to do for me?”
“Yeah. Go get Alpha from the shop and bring them back here.”
“Exactly. You will tell him everything?”
“No. I won’t. I’ll be really quick.” That spark of fire glimmered for a second as he raised his chin. “I’ve got to help Steve.”
He cracked his knuckles. “Good.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “Come straight back.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead he just pushed open the door and then ducked out into the light drizzle that had started coming down.
The chill of the rain on his skin paled in comparison to the fire burning in his gut like a torch. His wolf was ready to rumble in a way that it had never been before. He was a gamma and had his fair share of fights in his day. Added to the fact that his mate was under the “care” of one of his nightmares, he was in full protection mode and ready to tear someone’s head off.
As soon as he broke the tree line, he shifted into his feral form. He needed to stay downwind so if the wolf was outside he wouldn’t smell him. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate a madman into knowing his location before he could get his damn mate out of his clutches.
He lifted his nose, and the scent of the wolf immediately drew his attention. It was an old scent, one on a well-worn path the man had used for hunting within the territory. He put his face to the ground, tracing the steps backward. The three cabins up ahead seemed innocuous enough, but he had to brace himself for whatever he might encounter inside. He was more than prepared to fight to the death for his lover if need be.
Whatever damage had been inflicted, he would help Steve heal. He’d done it once before and he would do it a million more times if he had to. Steve was a strong boy all on his own. He would make it either way.
The middle cabin had the strongest scent around the outside. There was only one way the smell would be that heavy. Still, they had to be holed up for a few days for it to be even this faint.
He shifted back into his regular form and came up on his tiptoes in an attempt to see in the window. From the crack in the shutters he saw some kind of welded structure inside and the flashing lights of a TV that hadn’t been turned off.
As selfish as it was, he was grateful he didn’t walk into a scene that included Steve’s pain. He wouldn’t have been able to keep a level head if he would’ve.
Slowly, he lowered himself from his tiptoes. He needed some kind of weapon. He’d really gone off half-cocked when he’d climbed in the car and gone off with Gabriel to confront some unnamed enemy.
The only logical solution was a blitz attack with something blunt. He picked up a nearby rock that fit almost perfectly into the palm of his hand. That would have to do.
He took a few cleansing breaths and then straightened. “All right,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s do this.”
He sprinted up the steps, shoving his shoulder into the door as he pushed. The door banged back against the wall without any resistance, causing him to stumble. He nearly fell to his knees before he managed to straighten. He searched the darkened interior for his lover’s attacker, but the man was nowhere in sight.
Then the smell hit him.
His heart dropped into the bottom of his stomach as the acrid smell of death filled his senses, making him retch. It mingled with the scent of his lover, sending him to his knees as his wolf interpreted the two as his love’s death.
He whispered. “Steve?”
A growl met his statement. The noise drew his attention downward and over near the iron thing that looked like a narrower version of a shark’s cage. A wolf laid down in the middle of the cage, teeth clamped down on a ravaged bit of meat. Blood pooled around the base of the cage, smeared backward toward one side, like someone had moved away from the cage. Someone who was bleeding pretty profusely.
The person who could only have been Gunter was slouched against one wall, staring sightlessly at the cage. The big chuck that had been ripped out of the place between his neck and shoulder painted a grim picture.
Good boy. He was so proud of his mate. He was no shrinking violet in need of saving, he was a strong submissive in his own right. There was no reason to save him when he practically saved himself.
He crawled over to the cage. “Steve, babe, it’s me. I’m here.”
Steve looked at him, suspicion in his eyes.
Hope placed his hand beside the bars of the cage. “See, babe? I’m your mate. I’m here for you.”
Slowly, the meat dropped from Steve’s open mouth. He sniffed Hope’s hand and then licked his thumb. Everything in Hope softened.
“I missed you.”
Steve whined.
“I’m going to get you out of here, mate.” He straightened and looked at the padlock on the door. “Keys?”
Steve sat up and rolled his shoulders forward. His form shimmered and twisted, transforming as he regained his human shape. “Pocket,” he murmured, voice hoarse. He still looked wild, one moment away from losing his shit.
Trying not to gag, Hope went over to the body and fished in all the pockets he could find. He’d never been a fan of cadavers but he was oddly pleased at the state of disgust this particular cadaver was in.
“Did he hurt you, Steve?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
“No. I didn’t let him,” Steve whispered, the hysteria creeping into his tone. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not a victim.”
He really wasn’t. He was a hero to Hope.
Keys in hand, Hope straightened and returned to the padlock before working the variety of keys into the slot. The thick silver one fit perfectly, and the lock clicked open without preamble. Hope quickly tossed it aside and then threw open the door.
Steve immediately threw himself into Hope’s open arms. He was ready for his mate and hugged him tight, uncaring of the blood and filth that decorated his skin. He didn’t ask, didn’t need to. The man on the ground had tried to torture him again, but his Steve had found a way to fight back, to survive.
“I’m so proud of you,” Hope whispered. “I love you, Steve. I really do. Spend forever with me.”
“Take me home,” Steve begged between deep sobs. “Please, take me home, Hope.”
Hope swept his lover up into his arms and the nearly silent weep
ing continued. He just let him cry. He understood he trauma of the moment. Every bit of trauma he’d suffered had undoubtedly been doubled with Gunter’s kidnapping, regardless that Steve had prevented any serious damage.
He sat Steve by his clothes and forced the man into his underwear and his T-shirt so they wouldn’t be walking down the road with Steve buck naked. He lifted his cell phone and shot Mustang a message about what happened along with the fact that Steve would be coming back to his place.
“I love you,” Steve said suddenly, his voice gravel-filled. “I really love you. Need you to know.”
“I know, sweet.” He pocketed his phone. “Let’s go.”
He would never let anything else happen to his mate ever again. He couldn’t. The past week had been hell, and the only person who had anything to say about it could take it up with him.
He knelt again and scooped Steve up in his arms.
Steve rested his head on his shoulder as they walked. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“I will always come for you, Steve.”
“I know that, too. I knew you’d come.” Steve snuggled closer. “Proved it.”
Hope would hope so. No matter if the world stopped spinning, spun backward, and the sun went off, he would come for his mate.
Epilogue
Steve shook his doctor’s hand before he made his way out of the shiny set of office spaces that housed his Circle-appointed psychologist. Hope had made the suggestion when he’d given his official report of what had happed in the cabin. He was glad they’d finally given in to the need for a shrink for the whole pack system. Sometimes mental trauma weighed more heavily than physical trauma. It only made sense they would allow for the treatment for mental problems.
Of course he hadn’t expected it to a be a young, hot available who would be handing out the treatment.
As he came out of the double doors on street level, he found Hope sitting where he’d left him in the parking space, jamming to some good alternative music he could really get behind.
