by Kim Faulks
"Easy," Zadoc warned as I scooped my hand through the water and slammed it to my lips. "Take it slow. You don't want to be sick."
My fingers trembled as I pawed the hunk of meat. A bone stuck out at the end. I grasped the edge and forced the thick edge into my mouth. Juices dribbled down my chin. The meat was strong, gamy and barely warm—still it tasted like heaven. I bit and swallowed, forcing chunks down with a handful of water. The wad hurt, bruising as it went.
"Easy, Joslyn. Easy."
The ravenous ache screamed louder than his soft words. I fisted fragments that smelled starchy like rice. Bits fell through my fingers as I scooped what I could into my mouth and chewed. Mouthful, after mouthful. I barely breathed, barely stopped. My jaw ached with the effort. I searched the plate, finding stray grains as the gnawing screams fell silent. I dropped my hand to my lap and laid my head against the bars.
The meat sat heavy. I eased the plate lower and dragged my fingers to my mouth. Salty juices lingered in the corners. I sucked my knuckles and stubby nails and dropped my hand to my full belly. Content. This was about as close as I could get. I had food…I leaned to the right and skimmed water from the top of the pail—and I had water.
An ache speared through my abdomen, drawing my focus into my body…and to the thing that lived inside me. Baby. The word seemed stuck. Seemed unnatural. Wolf felt more real. I knew the moment it attached itself to me. My body fought every second. I was racked with fever, ripped with pain. I screamed for hours on the bathroom floor before Nick came for me.
I thought was I was dying, until Nick took one look at me, sniffed the air and said, you’re pregnant.
Finn was the only one I could turn to. He urged me to talk to Mom and I stupidly complied. What a damn joke. She couldn’t take her eyes off the bottle long enough to register what I said. Her parting words were, you always were a curse to me.
So, Finn and I went to the doctor together. Not long after my visit to the doctor, Nick came back with a savage look in his eyes and I knew I was in trouble.
Now I was seven days pregnant and this thing, this…fetus was growing by the day. But no matter what word slipped into place…it was life.
Life. Life. Life…life. I turned my hand and skimmed my belly. Somewhere in there was a part of me, growing, living day after day. This should never have happened—and yet some part of me knew this was always the plan.
Not my plan. Someone else's.
Whose, I didn't know—but there was no way in Hell I'd die without finding out. Silence pulled me. I dragged my head from the hard bars and stared into the other cell. Zadoc stood watching me. His plate hard up against the side of the wall. His food untouched. "You haven't eaten."
"Not hungry."
Some empty part of me knew the words he held back. They glistened in his eyes when he looked at me, and so help me God, deep down they resonated. He saved me, and not just once. He saved me time and time again. I dropped my gaze to his chest. Pale skin glistened in the soft orange glow of the torch. Where had his wool gone?
"You going to eat?"
A slow shake of his head spoke volumes. "Maybe later." He nodded toward the clothes. "You should put those on, at least under the ones you have, it'll keep you warm."
The scuff of his shoe echoed as he turned. I pulled myself forward and snagged the end of the clothes. They were dark, black tracksuit pants, a clean white T-shirt. I jerked my gaze left. Zadoc hadn't moved…I knew somehow he wouldn't. He wasn't like other guys. He wouldn't sneak a peek—to him that would be dishonorable—and this man was all about honor.
I shoved myself to stand. The sudden movement made my head spin. The heady sent of his body filled me as I dragged his shirt over my head and clutched it tight. The cold moved in, biting hard. I stomped on the back of one sneaker and stepped free, and then followed with the other.
"You can use a corner of my shirt to wash. There's no soap, but at least clean water is better than nothing."
I wadded his shirt and shoved it between my knees, then slipped off the brown, corded jacket. My leather breaker was next. I speared my fingers along my hair and shoved the hood down. Leather hit the stones at my feet with a rush. I shuddered, quickly losing the thin white T-shirt underneath, leaving me in a faded old bra. I wrapped my arms around myself and turned to look at Zadoc. What would he think of me like this…some small, skinny kid? He'd laugh at me. They all laughed.
To them I was a joke. Dad walked out. Mum was a drunk. Brother was the only decent one…and the girl…yeah she got herself pregnant by a wolf.
My fingers trembled as I grasped the T-shirt between my legs. I was naked, and I didn't just mean skin. I was rubbed raw and bleeding. Hell, I'd been bleeding for years…so why stop now?
I dropped a third of the shirt into the bucket and straightened. The cold water turned to ice as I ran the cloth over my arms and stomach. I hissed at the slap, trembled, and reached for the button on my jeans.
The sound of my zipper filled the space. My fingers stilled. I turned my head and stared at the hard curve of Zadoc’s shoulders. I fisted his shirt. I'd never met someone so…noble and brave, so ready to put my needs first.
So kind without an agenda.
I could still feel the weight of his arms, so warm…so alive. I mapped the inches between us, and my heart picked up pace.
"Joslyn…you better hurry," he murmured. His voice was husky and raw. "I don't want you getting a chill."
His words yanked me back to reality. A tremble raced. I grabbed his shirt and dipped again and made quick movements, wiping where I needed and dropped his soiled shirt to the ground. I snatched the track pants and stepped into the legs. They weren't thick, but they were warm. I yanked on the clean shirt and sweater, before piling on the rest of my clothes. I turned to Zadoc and watched the dull flicker play out along his skin. Hard muscles tensed and relaxed, as though somehow he knew I was watching.
I cleared my throat and found my feet. "You can turn around now."
Boots skimmed the rocks as he moved. I waited for my pulse to slow, but something had changed now. Something that could never go back.
"You should try to get some sleep."
I dragged my focus higher and nodded. I stared at the cold floor. His arms were warmer. In that cocoon, I felt…safe.
"I'm tired myself, and as skinny as you are, you put out some heat. Want to lie against the bars again?"
Lie beside him, he meant. But he wouldn't say it, would he?
No. But it wasn't to make him feel at ease—it was for me. I stepped into my sneakers and knelt, pulling the laces a little and tying a slack bow, and grabbed my dirty jeans from the ground. Maybe I could wash them somehow. But for now they'd do as a pillow. Zadoc stepped close, and sat against the ground.
A low growl slipped from his lips. I stiffened and jerked my head around, scanning the dark. "What is it?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. Just a disagreement—that's all."
I narrowed my gaze. The guy was strange. No doubt about that. I knelt and shoved out my hand behind me, gauging the distance and touched warm flesh...his flesh. My fingers skimmed the hard muscles of his stomach. But he was here—I closed my eyes—he was real.
My arm shuddered underneath me, bracing my upper body off the ground, still I couldn't drag my fingers away. He might leave me.
The shudder took hold, racing through me like a fever. I was attached to him, attached to his voice, his presence—that meant I was vulnerable.
I opened my eyes, tears slipped from the lashes and slid down my cheek. I kept my fingers against his skin and lowered my head to the stone.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for touching you. But I need…I just need…
"It's okay," he whispered. "You can touch me if you want."
His voice was a growl. His breath blew against my neck, and still it wasn't enough. It was never enough. His hand skimmed my waist and settled heavy, and somehow amongst the cruel, hard ground and the cold, something inside me sighed with relief.
/>
I reached farther, brushing the waist of his jeans, grasping more and settled harder against the bars.
His arm tightened, pulling my spine against the metal. "I've got you," he murmured against the back of my neck. "I'm not going anywhere. Sleep, Joslyn. Close your eyes and sleep."
Lashes skimmed my skin. My body obeyed his command. The tremble raced once more and settled. Exhaustion moved in and staked its claim, and I was lost to that dark abyss.
I dreamed of wolves and Dragons. I dreamed of blue skies and sunshine. But most of all I dreamed of him…of this scruffy-bearded man who towered above me. I dreamed of red eyes, of flight alight within him…and somehow those embers warmed a part of me that had been cold for so long.
Warm, loved. That feeling stayed with me for what felt like forever, until the dream slipped through my fingers and I opened my eyes.
The darkness rushed in. I blinked, turned my head.
"I want to say good morning, but I have no idea what time it is, or what day it is."
His growl echoed through me, sounding all too familiar. I reached up and rubbed my eyes as a yawn took hold. "How long did I sleep?"
"Long enough for ten patrols of the guards and a change of food and water."
I stiffened at his words. Change of food and water. I blinked and raised my head, staring into the flickering light. The torch seemed brighter. One…now two torches burned, revealing a little more of my cell.
I shoved against the ground. A fresh plate of food sat beside the pail of water. I glanced to Zadoc's cell. Fresh food waited at the bars, just as it did before.
"I waited for him to come, just in case you woke hungry."
Movement came behind me. I shifted my gaze as Zadoc rose, catching the thick tortoiseshell colored pelt over his chest. A heady, animal scent permeated the air. He smelled of the beast he wore. "Is it warm?"
"Warm enough," he answered. "The food won't be warm. I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful."
"How many days has it been?"
There was a second of silence before he answered. "I don't know, two days maybe. It's hard to keep track of time."
There was no distance between hours and days. All I had was the slow ticking of my body growing older…and yet I had no idea how old that was. I scanned the cell, finding the empty bucket and shuddered.
"I'll turn around and put my fingers in my ears. Take all the time you need."
I was past humiliation, my body screamed for release and food. It screamed for a warm, soft bed, and for safety, but all I had was a bucket of water and a plate of food, and a bucket so I didn't have to relieve myself on the ground.
I climbed to my feet, wincing at the gnawing ache in my bones and shuffled over to the cell door. I gave him my back and made use of the empty pail. Mack had left a roll of paper. My fingers shook when I touched it. Days of sitting with my own stench with the filth and the heat…and now this…the cold and not one of my captors had shown me a glimmer of kindness—not until now. I yanked my pants up and covered the bucket with paper before pushing it into the far corner.
I headed for the food, stopping at the fresh pail of water. I bunted the edge and held onto the handle. A trickle slipped over the side, just enough to wash my hands. "I'm finished. You can turn around now."
Zadoc dropped his hands and slowly turned. He glanced at the untouched food and sat near his plate, as though the mere act would encourage me to eat.
The thick slab of steak balanced on top, underneath looked like a gruel of some kind. I tried to wet my mouth. The food would be tasteless and cold. Still I grasped the meat and lifted it as a shrill scream shattered the silence.
The sound was filled with fragility—with a tenderness not created for adults.
This was a child. A girl. I closed my eyes. The child's terror gripped me and wouldn't let go. The sound carried on a chilling breeze. Both cut me to the bone. I dropped the meat to the plastic plate and it hit with a thud. "Zadoc."
"I'm right here," he growled.
We climbed to our feet and took a step toward the cell doors. Gravity pulled us, but it wasn't the draw of bodies aligned—it was the pull of fear.
And in a heartbeat, the scream ended.
Silence filled the cells. A ravenous, raw emptiness that whispered things I didn't want to hear.
The torch fire blurred as I stared at the stony walls. There was nothing sacred in this goddamn place. No life worth protecting—no innocence worth saving…not to them.
Three days, or is it four in this Hell?
I closed my eyes.
I wouldn't survive.
Footsteps echoed, coming closer. One…two sets, accompanied by the clack of heels. I gripped the bars and pressed my forehead to the steel. Shadows danced on the cavern walls.
"Joslyn. Get to the back of the cell," Zadoc growled.
Footsteps echoed louder. They were coming. God help me they were coming for me. Fear bit like ants along my skin. I stumbled and grasped the bars as the blonde bitch came into view.
She turned her head, staring at me through the sides of the cells and those cruel lips curved.
Somewhere in the distance, the piercing cry of a young girl tore free.
The vile woman never flinched, as though this was business as usual to her.
Hate and fear all rolled together in one consuming wave. "You get off on torturing kids you sick fucking bitch."
She slid her hand over her head, pushing down the hood and held my gaze. "I've done some research on you."
The thunder in my chest sent an ache through my body. The bitch turned her head, spearing a cold, wicked gaze at Zadoc. "Twelve Guardians entrusted to protect the weak. You've done a wonderful job so far, haven't you?"
Zadoc’s growl sent a shiver down my spine. The three wolves behind her sniggered. They would’t laugh when he killed them—no, they wouldn’t be laughing at all.
"Let me see if I remember their names. First there's Marcus, and Victor…then Evander and Michael and Lucas, Bastian, Isaiah, Orlando, North, Byron, Xael…and you, Zadoc."
She trailed her hand against the bars and steeped closer to his cell. I wanted to say something, to draw her focus back to me. But the cruel sneer. The hateful fucking gleam in her eye pinned me to the ground.
"Congratulations, you can repeat names like a damn monkey."
The child's torment rebounded against the walls, growing louder, with each goddamn second.
"Stop it."
His voice cracked. Her smile widened.
"Fucking hateful bitch." He screamed and stepped closer to the bars. "You want me? You got me."
Move, the voice inside me snarled. Scream, fight. Fight like he is fighting. My legs wouldn't move. No matter how hard I tried.
Still the child screamed, and raked my soul. My hand fluttered to my stomach.
Please God. Please.
Zadoc shook his head, as though he tried to tear himself away from the sound. But there was nowhere to go, and there was nothing we could do, not here behind bars.
"Let them go, all of them," he demanded, his voice hoarse with vengeance. "Take me instead. Take me, or so help me God I'll slaughter every last one of you."
The smile died on her face. I held my breath as she stepped up to the cell door. Zadoc could touch her if he wanted. He could reach through the bars and snap her fucking neck. I glanced to the goons behind her. One carried a gun. Would that stop a Dragon? Would that stop Zadoc?
I swayed under the image. The girl's scream ended, and for one hateful second part of me wept with relief.
"Open the door," she murmured, her voice honeyed strychnine. "Let's see how far the Dragon is willing to go."
"No. No. Not him."
All eyes turned to me as I stumbled forward. I couldn't look at him, couldn't see the pain in his eyes. In my mind, his arm was still wrapped around me, holding me, protecting me…so who would protect him?
"Joslyn. Stay out of this."
Panic filled his voice. S
till it didn't matter, nothing else mattered but getting out of this place alive. The bitch wanted me for something, and I would use that. "Take me instead. You want me here for a reason, so I'm here. Just leave him alone. And the little girl, bring her here. He'll take care of her. He can do that."
I grasped the bars, and dragged myself toward the door. The goon behind the blonde bitch moved. Keys clanged together as he moved. Jesus…Jesus… My knees buckled. My legs wouldn't hold. Panic filled me like a trapped bird, desperate for flight. I wanted to fly. I wanted to get far away from this place, away from this horror and these people—Zadoc shimmered amongst the tears—but not without him.
The wolf slowed at the door. I stared into those cold, dead eyes and knew I wasn't getting out of here alive. The key was in his hand. I tried to breathe, but there was no air. A vicious smile skirted the wolf's lips as he stepped away from my cell and headed for Zadoc's.
"No," I clawed the air. "Wait."
The lock to his cell clicked, the sound ricocheted like a stray bullet to hit me in the chest. "Please," I begged, clawing, hurting, something tore inside. "Please, don't do this."
The other wolf lifted the gun, and took aim. Not at Zadoc, but at me.
"One wrong move, Dragon," the blonde bitch whispered. "And I will plaster this whore across the floor."
I caught movement in his cell. I held onto the bars and dragged my gaze from the gun as Zadoc neared the open door. He turned his head to look at me. "It's going to be okay. I want you to do something for me, can you do that?"
Tears were cast aside as I nodded.
Solemn brown eyes held mine. His voice edged with tenderness. "Turn around Joslyn; you don't want to see this."
The blonde bitch clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Now where would be the fun in that?" She wrenched her head to me. "Don't fucking move. You see what we are. You see what he is, and don't ever forget you exist because I allow it."
Zadoc stiffened and cast a careful glance at the gun, and then at me.
"Try it." The wolf tightened his grip around the firearm. "Let's see how fast you can move. Maybe you can survive a bullet, but I guarantee she won't."
