Coveted

by Stacey Brutger

  So when she saw a flesh and blood man standing not ten paces from her, it took her a moment to process that she was not alone. The relief was instantaneous, and she leaned weakly against the wall, locking her knees to keep from sliding into the water.

  The sight of him here, of all places, dumbfounded her. She opened her mouth to call out when small details filtered into her brain.

  She was staring at an honest-to-goodness dungeon.

  And he was very firmly locked on the other side of those bars.

  The last thing she expected to find in a supposedly haunted castle was a living, breathing man.

  She stood rooted to the spot, water swirling around them in a nosy rush, and stared at him through the bars of the cage. She could scarcely make out his form as he darted back and forth, frantically plucking things out of the current like a mad scientist bent on creating some masterpiece.

  His hands were scarred, nicked and dirty, streaked with dried blood that water couldn’t wash away without some soap and heavy scrubbing.

  It was then she saw the rat clutched in his fist, wiggling, scratching to be free. The man hunched over, lifting the little rodent to his face.

  Then his intentions became clear.

  Food.

  A strangled sound caught in the back of her throat.

  He pivoted in her direction, the movement so incredibly fast his shape blurred.

  It was a toss-up which of them was more surprised. His face emerged from the darkness, a full beard covering him like some prehistoric caveman, making him nearly indiscernible from his surroundings. He sat crouched in a creepy way that made him seem more beast than man.

  Thankfully, the old bars stood reassuringly between them, keeping her from bolting into danger like a halfwit.

  Pictures of missing people flashed in her mind, but he appeared to have been there long before the last two had disappeared. Indeed, his gaunt body was skin and bones, his flesh having long since melted away. His clothes hung on him, two sizes too large, indicating he’d once been a big bastard. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on him.

  That wasn’t vanity.

  It was starvation.

  The lack of grooming was a stark contrast to the city men she dealt with stateside. His hair had clumped together and tangled around his head, while heavy shadows ringed his eyes. Any tan had long since faded, leaving him with the sallow, pale look of someone grievously ill.

  Shayla slowly lowered her arm, the weight of her wooden weapon leaving her muscles trembling with fatigue. She jiggled her bag until her phone brushed her palm. Pulling it out, she flicked on the light.

  The man flinched, but he didn’t look away.

  Green eyes.

  The man had the most vivid eyes she’d ever seen. They would’ve been beautiful except for the fact that they stared at her unblinking, like a starved animal ready to pounce. She braced for him to charge, the hunger in him a visible thing, and she shivered to have it directed at her.

  He cocked his head, clutched the rat’s squirming body to his chest with shaky fingers. Then he held out his hand as if offering her the poor creature.

  She must have made some noise for he dropped the critter and launched to his feet. “You’re real?”

  * * *

  The woman jerked back at his sudden move, losing her hold on the phone. They both watched it plop into the water, the bright light barely penetrating the murky soup.

  A second passed as they eyed each other before lunging forward at the same time.

  Only by random chance did the current shove the phone toward him. The device swept by so swiftly it nearly slipped through his fingers. Despite his edge, she almost captured it first. He jerked the phone out of the water and stood with the prize clutched in his fist.

  The bright pink phone appeared fragile in his rough hands. The display was lit, revealing no service. He turned it over to see elegant writing on the back, nearly indecipherable in the darkness.

  What’s lost can be found. Call Shayla.

  He gave a little startled jerk at her name.

  From a fairy place.

  “Shayla.” He whispered it softly, savoring the sound of it. The woman lifted her chin, straightening from her crouch.

  “Did someone hire you to find me?” Wild emotions tumbled through him too fast to grab. Freedom was so close he could almost taste it.

  “I don’t do people.” Her face scrunched adorably, but he noted she didn’t say couldn’t.

  Vague plans about hiring her to find his men began forming. Her presence here couldn’t be a coincidence, but was she friend or foe?

  “That’s mine. I answered your question, now give it back.” She tightened her grip on the rotten piece of driftwood, hefting it as if she would bang him over the head if he dared refuse. She looked spitting mad enough to do it, too.

  Desperately needing to see her clearly, not quite convinced she wasn’t some figment of his imagination, he shone the light on her.

  “Hey.” She lifted her arm to block the glare.

  Human.

  Dainty and next to worthless.

  He should’ve been disappointed.

  She should’ve repulsed him.

  He scowled that she didn’t.

  Fear and hope burned through him. The hair on his arms stood on end, her very presence calling to him on a visceral level that was almost mesmerizing.

  It made no sense. She resembled nothing more than one of his drowned rats, but he was willing to bet she tasted better. A hunger of another sort curled through him, and he hardened in an instant.

  Her blue eyes sparkled in the darkness as she peeked up at him, her gorgeous eyes growing larger as she took in his deplorable appearance. Wet clothes were plastered to her, leaving nothing to his imagination. She was a little bit of a thing, all hips and curves that had his hands flexing to explore. Her lips were full and inviting, and he found himself drawn closer as if to steal a taste. Dripping strands of hair rested around her shoulders, a curl to it that would turn wild when it dried.

  And despite her bedraggled appearance, she was the most exquisite creature he’d laid eyes on in years. He inhaled, and her light citrus fragrance sent a shock to his system. He’d dated beautiful women, but he’d never had such a visceral reaction to one, where every part of him demanded he claim her immediately.

  But he’d read about it once.

  A mate.

  Hope clawed up his throat, so desperate that he forgot how to form words. Aiden shook his head to banish such foolishness. True mates no longer existed. Hadn’t for centuries. A cheap imitation did nothing for him. He’d just been too long without a woman. It was the only reason that made any sense.

  Aiden was painfully aware of his scruffy appearance. Hell, he could hardly stand his own stench. Shame, mixed with fear that she might run, helped him maintain his distance. He would not sully her by laying his filthy hands on her, no matter how much he craved it.

  “What are you doing here?” Aiden winced at the harsh tone of his voice, clamping his mouth shut when she flinched. The only sounds he’d made in the last few weeks were a few choice swear words and the howls of pain he was too weak to contain any longer.

  When she backed away, his heart thumped painfully against his ribs. He held up his hands and stepped back, even though he desperately wanted to charge forward and beg that she not leave him. Then he held out her phone. “Wait. Please.”

  His hoarse plea made him wince.

  Begging like some pathetic human.

  “You’re not one of them, are you?” They could’ve sent her down here. And if they had, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist her for even an hour. There was something about her reaction to the rat that told him she didn’t have the stomach for torture.

  At the thought of the lost rat, his stomach rumbled in protest, cramping so hard that he nearly doubled over.

  “One of…them?” The low, hesitant sound of her voice sent a shiver of pure lust through his system. He swayed, w
ishing she’d speak again.

  His condition mortified him, and he straightened, not wanting to appear weak. Not in front of her. He tucked his rough, callused hands behind his back, hiding their condition.

  When the little goddess ventured closer, he stilled so as not to frighten her. Without warning, his beast broke his iron hold over him for the first time since being imprisoned. Any illusion of control vanished. Mercifully, his wolf didn’t manifest, didn’t take over. Maybe more frightening, the beast seemed content to simply be near the woman.

  His wolf peered out of his eyes, and Aiden held his breath, unsure he’d be able to stop him if the beast decided to fight free.

  The wolf whiffled, inhaling her scent.

  Learning her.

  But then he did it again, this time to savor the fragrance that rose from her skin.

  Once satisfied, he laid his head down on his paws and whined, wanting her touch just as badly as Aiden did. His animal had never reacted to a woman so strongly. Aiden wanted to revel in the sensations, but he needed to get them out of there first.

  Maybe the rain would keep his captors away, but he doubted it. A wave of rage crashed over him, and he knew what he had to do. He straightened to his full height, feeling like a monster as he towered over her.

  “You’re not safe down here. You have to get out.”

  She reared back at his at his comment. He wanted to recall his words, lure her closer, promise her anything if she just stayed a minute longer, but he would not risk her safety, even if might mean his freedom.

  “Do you think I’d be here if I knew the way out?”

  She sounded so exasperated Aiden almost smiled, then he cocked his head in confusion. “How were you able to find me if you don’t even know how you got here?”

  “I fell.” She muttered, casting a quick glance over her shoulder. “Exiting that way was not an option.”

  “So you searched for a way out and found me.”

  Shayla nodded once.

  He didn’t want to admire her ingenuity. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. He failed miserably at both accounts. Before he could press for more information, a sound to his right made him whirl.

  Familiar male voices.

  Fear shredded the last of his composure, and he surged toward the bars. He gripped the metal, uncaring when his flesh sizzled, how the skin of his palms slowly tightened and then cracked. “Run!”

  She gazed at him, not as afraid as she should be. “There is nowhere to run. I can’t go back the way I came.”

  Footsteps scuffled toward them. The stench of their bodies swept through the tunnels, and his wolf pressed forward beneath his skin, desperate to defend the woman.

  “There is another way out, but you must hide right now. If they discover you here, they’ll kill you.”

  Her brows furrowed, and the look might have been cute if he weren’t so terrified for her safety. He wanted to keep her close. She was his last chance at freedom. At least that’s the only explanation he had for primitive way he responded to the idea of her in danger.

  He peered down the tunnel, conscious of time ticking away. When he turned back, she was gone.

  Profound loss carved his chest out, the force of it enough to break the last hold he had on his sanity.

  He shuddered at the thought that he’d imagined the whole thing.

  Then he heard her voice.

  “If you want to keep me a secret, I suggest you turn off my phone and hide it. I’ll need it to get out of here.”

  He stared stupidly at the piece of pink plastic he still clutched, then swore. He just managed to shove the phone into the waistband of his pants when the lights from his visitors bounced off the walls.

  Conflicting signals muddled his mind. The warrior in him wanted to strut in front of her. The ancient practice of attracting a mate by showing his prowess might have been lost through the years, but the customs had been ingrained in him since his birth over two hundred years ago. Conversely, the human side of him wanted to hide his abilities for fear she might run.

  Both sides were desperate to do whatever it took to keep her close. The reactions were so strong, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself from following her around like a lost puppy.

  His limbs trembled with fatigue, and he gritted his teeth against the need to rest. He couldn’t crash now, not when more than his life hung in the balance.

  “I don’t see why we have to come down here tonight. The full moon will be here in two days. He won’t be able to hold out then.”

  The nasally whine annoyed the piss out of Aiden, and his claws punched through the tips of his fingers, eager to rip into the man’s throat. He ignored the truth in the taunts, pitifully pleased that they were vague enough not to frighten his little goddess out of her hiding place.

  The one they called Hugh tossed scraps of some animal they’d scavenged from road kill just outside his cell. Aiden locked his knees to stop himself from dropping to his knees and gorging on the rotten food. The swirling current quickly swept it away, and the big one laughed, his pot belly jiggling.

  Whiskey fumes exploded from him in waves strong enough to intoxicate the person standing next to him as well.

  Hugh might be stupid, but one didn’t tug on the tail of the lion without consequences. He liked to feel important. Beating up kids and women had fulfilled that need until Jacob hired him.

  “Come on, Jacob, let’s get out of this shit hole.”

  Aiden didn’t dare allow himself to relax. Jacob took pleasure in the torture, studying how long he could push and still keep his prey alive. He wouldn’t forgo it on a whim.

  “Fine, leave. I’ll follow in a bit.” Jacob was the taller of the two, his lean frame tightly controlled, his cold eyes calculating.

  Neither of them saw Aiden as human, not that it would have stopped them. To get what they wanted, they would’ve killed him just the same.

  “Sure, but I gotta take a piss first.” Hugh turned and fumbled with his pants.

  A moue of distaste curled Jacob’s mouth. He turned his back and ignored the other man. “You don’t have to die. The offer is still on the table. Just give us what we want.”

  The key to Aiden’s cell dangled from a cord around the man’s neck.

  Taunting him.

  The bastard knew and did it on purpose.

  “No.” It was the same question every night. Their offer was a lie. If he gave consent, he would wind up chained in his wolf form and bled dry for the rest of his very short, miserable life.

  Tonight was different. His eyes skimmed the key, but his obsession had broken, and he quickly turned his attention to Hugh.

  Tension held Aiden stiff as impotent rage consumed him. For the first time since he’d been captured, Aiden prayed.

  Don’t move, baby.

  “What the—”

  A piece of wood swung out of the darkness, cracking Hugh across the temple. The rotten wood exploded in a spray of splinters. Hugh, overweight by a good thirty pounds, his pants still open, staggered backwards, but didn’t go down.

  “What the hell are you doing, Hugh?”

  Blood poured into the man’s eyes, and a nasty cut gaped open over his brow. He turned at the sound of his name, and stumbled a little too close to Aiden’s cell.

  Desperate not to lose this chance, Aiden lunged forward and snatched up the rotund man through the bars. The movement dislodged Shayla’s phone, and it landed with a plop, before disappearing into the murky water. Then there was no more time to think. He looped his arm around Hugh’s neck, pulling until the man was crushed against the bars. Bones should’ve snapped like matchsticks, would have if Aiden had been at his full strength. Now he was just too weak.

  “Jacob, he’s got me. Shoot him,” Hugh shrieked.

  Jacob ignored his lackey, squinting in Shayla’s direction as if he could see her despite the lack of light. When he turned and lifted the cattle prod from the wall, there was a peculiar gleam in his eyes, something malicious
.

  Out of time.

  The man would kill Shayla and enjoy it.

  Aiden couldn’t allow that to happen.

  If he received a jolt of electricity, they’d take him down and leave her vulnerable. To know that she’d died because of him shriveled the last bit of his humanity. Aiden heaved backwards, using his weight, ignoring the Hugh’s frantic scratching at his arm.

  “Hey, dickhead.” The woman flew out of the shadows, landing on Jacob’s back and clung to him like a tenacious monkey. Jacob lurched forward, the momentum nearly catapulting her over his shoulder.

  Aiden went ballistic. His teeth lengthened, fur burst out along his arms. He said a silent plea that the darkness was thick enough to conceal the changes and tightened his hold. Hugh squealed like a girl, but Aiden couldn’t take his attention away from the fight.

  Jacob reached up, grabbed the back of her shirt, and tossed her into the water. Instead of giving up, the woman rolled to her feet. Then he couldn’t see her anymore as Jacob stalked down the hall. He was controlled, took pleasure in the hunt, like the lord of the castle.

  The man was twice her weight.

  One blow and he’d crush her.

  But he would be careful, hurt her just enough to prolong the torture.

  Aiden growled in fury, relishing in the satisfying crunch of bones when Hugh’s neck finally snapped. He let the body drop and rushed toward the edge of his prion in time to see his woman being slammed up against the wall.

  She slid down the rough stones like a limp rag. Aiden could do nothing but watch, helplessness threatening to choke him as she ineffectually slapped at Jacob’s chest. Then she turned defiantly toward him, steely determination etched on her face.

  “Catch.”

  Aiden nearly missed her toss.

  Cold metal smacked his palms.

  When he opened his fingers, he couldn’t believe what he saw.

  The key.

  Damned foolish woman. Admiration for the female flared through him. With shaky fingers, he put the key in the lock. “Hit her again, bastard, and I’ll rip your spine from your body and beat you with it.”

  Jacob held the woman off the ground, her feet swinging, unable to land any solid blows with her sneakers. Jacob cocked back his arm, his fist ready to land a crushing blow when he turned and saw Aiden with the key.