His mouth descended.
Revulsion shuddered through her. Shayla struggled to stand, get away, only to be brought up short by the fist holding her hair. Fingers locked cruelly in her curls, tearing strands from her scalp as he yanked her head back. His thin lips crushed hers, mashing them into her teeth until she tasted blood.
Shayla wanted to shove him away, but she was on a slope of some kind and couldn’t get any leverage. Every time she lifted her hands from the thick sewage on the bottom of the pit, her position became more precarious. When she started to slip, it was only his grip that kept her above water. She didn’t trust him not to shove her under for daring to refuse his advances. One of his hands dropped toward her breasts, his fingers brutally twisting the vulnerable flesh.
She felt violated.
Outraged.
And pissed off.
He nipped at her bottom lip, drawing blood, not releasing her until she gasped in pain. As if claiming her as a prize, he jammed his tongue into her mouth. Shayla gagged at the slurp of his sloppy kiss.
Bastard.
Shayla sank her teeth into his tongue, steeling herself to not to let go as blood filled her mouth.
With a roar, he jerked away.
Shayla slid backwards and sank below the water. It took her precious seconds to realize that she was free. She surged toward the surface, noticing the pit sloped deeper, the water now up to her chest. And her spirits plummeted when she saw she’d ended up even further away from the door.
She shivered with the penetrating cold. She was bruised. Battered. Her clothes were soaked with putrefied water, her shoes squished with every step, but she was alive.
She considered it a win.
She spit out a mouthful of blood, and smiled at him. If she was going to die down here, she’d be damned if she’d do it without taking her pound of flesh.
Blood trickled down his chin, his lip already swelling. A line of bruises marched across his cheekbones. Her elbow still ached from the blow. Triumph burned bright until she met his gaze and saw his eyes darken with unadulterated hatred.
When he lunged for her, Shayla threw herself back to evade his grasping hands.
And slipped on the sludge.
Her head dipped below the water again. Her captor’s arm reached around her waist, crushing her in his cruel grip. Shayla knew better than to expect a rescue and tensed for the next blow.
Instead, she found herself airborne.
Before she could brace herself, she smacked headfirst into the wall.
Half her face went numb. Stunned by the impact, she plunged under the filthy water. The chilled shocked her back from unconsciousness and she thrashed. Something nudged her from under the water, and an unshakable fear that something was lurking down there made her chest constrict.
She heaved herself toward the surface, her movements uncoordinated as panic blinded her. There wasn’t anywhere solid to place her feet, the floor so slimy that every time she tried to stand, she slid further into the muck.
Precious seconds passed before Shayla gave up and planted her knees. She lifted her head, barely able to break the surface, and sputtered to get rid of the water that had found its way in her mouth. It left a brackish film behind that she wanted to scrape off her tongue.
When Jacob drew back his leg, Shayla flinched and lifted her arm to protect her face. But instead of hitting her, he kicked a half-decomposed corpse out of his way. The body toppled into the soup of decay surrounding her and everything girly in her shuddered in revulsion.
He fiddled with something lower against the wall, and Shayla took advantage of the opportunity. Ignoring her bruised ribs, she swam toward freedom in an awkward crawl. Just when her fingers touched stone, he clamped down hard on her ankle, crushing the bones, and she cried out as he dragged her backward.
“We wouldn’t want you to leave before our guest arrives.”
His knee caught her in the ribs. Air exploded from her in a harsh whoosh. When he pulled back his foot again, she braced for another blow.
But the foot never landed.
A heavy weight settled on her back, forcing her down until she was once more submerged.
The blow to her ribs was a blessing if she ignored the massive bruises. The inability to breathe prevented her from swallowing a gallon of water. The bones of her spine protested the pressure, creaking under his weight. Cold metal scraped against her neck. She wanted to reach up and pry it away, but her hands were all that held her above the dubious sludge.
Then she was free.
Shayla struggled to get her knees under her, exhaustion making her sluggish. Her head barely broke the surface. Brown, rank water sloshed down her face, and she greedily gulped air. Her tormentor stood calmly by the door, watching her impassively, as if he no longer considered her human.
Refusing to be caught kneeling in front of a creep like him, she shoved to her feet.
An unyielding metal cuff cut into her neck, slamming her back to her knees with a splash. She reached up. Cold metal met her fingertips. The shackle encasing her throat was at least two inches wide and a quarter of an inch thick. The weight of it abraded her skin.
A fucking dog collar.
The metal had been reinforced, the sharp edges built to penetrate fur so a wolf couldn’t struggle very hard without decapitating himself. If she wasn’t careful, the same would happen to her.
There was no lock that she could feel, nothing for her to try and pick. Instead, a series of tiny pins kept the two ends of the collar secured. The pins were too small for her nails to grasp. They were wedged tight. She yanked on the chain and discovered the other end was secured to the base of the wall. The length didn’t permit her to stand, barely allowing her to keep her head above water.
The stench of the place infused every part of her. Slime coated her body, invaded her mouth, like a legion of leeches. She touched her tongue to the split in her lip and winced.
Then she straightened as much as the chain would allow, refusing to show any more weakness to this asshole.
She wouldn’t give him the pleasure.
“If you’re going to fuck the animals, you’ll be treated like one.” He swaggered forward like he’d won.
Not likely.
When he came close enough, she slammed her fist directly into his balls.
He doubled over, gasping for air, stumbling back out of her reach, the stone wall the only thing holding him up. He glared at her, but didn’t come any closer.
Then he chuckled. “Bravo! You’re a worthy opponent, but let’s wait to see who’s still standing in the end, shall we?”
She relaxed at the reprieve from whatever torture he’d been planning. She wasn’t tough. She wouldn’t survive what a man like him enjoyed inflicting on women.
Jacob straightened and smiled, his ruined face twisted until he looked more monster than human, and Shayla couldn’t resist striking back the only way left to her. “I bet your new face, combined with your charm, will really have the woman flocking to you. However will you get off if you can’t tempt a woman close enough for you to beat her?”
Hatred contorted his face.
Then he laughed.
The sound so unnerved her that Shayla retreated until her back hit the wall, the chain preventing her from moving any further.
“It won’t matter soon. Your beastman carries the cure in his veins. He’s the strongest, his bloodline dating back centuries. It’s the most potent blood I’ve ever found. Your presence will ensure that I get exactly what I need.” Jacob sloshed through the doorway. The cell door groaned loudly in protest as he slammed it shut. The wall trembled, and a few smaller rocks plopped into the water, but it held.
A key turned in the lock, and Shayla saw him walk away, the confidence back in his swagger…if you ignored the slight hitch in his stride from her parting gift.
The son of a bitch wanted to drain Aiden.
Rage bubbled up, but fear slithered through the cracks of her composure. Aiden was to
o important to his people.
Too important to her.
Cold prickled against her skin that had nothing to do with the frigid water and everything to do with losing Aiden.
Jacob had no intention of letting either one of them go.
Water continued to gush down the walls. The pool rose steadily. Time was not on her side. She tugged on the chain, but the damned thing didn’t budge an inch. The collar weighed so heavily against her throat it felt like it was tightening with every breath.
She reached underwater. If she couldn’t loosen the bolt, she’d just have to take the whole blasted rock. She scratched around the fixture that secured her to the wall. Her nails snapped to the quick. By the time she admitted defeat and lifted her hands, her fingers were a bloody mess, and the only damage she’d managed to inflict was to herself.
This wasn’t going to work.
She needed a better plan.
Half of her face was battered, her lip busted, blood crusted her nose, and a large knot throbbed at the base of her skull. Her neck ached every time she so much as twitched, not to mention her ribs, which were bruised from front to back, made each breath a chore. That didn’t mean she was helpless.
There was one thing she could do that no one could stop. She could summon the wraiths. It would be dangerous to enter the Frost World again so soon, but she was willing to take the risk to keep Aiden alive.
Something bumped into her under the surface, stirred up by all the jostling. She cringed, but the need for a weapon was more important. With trembling fingers, she stuck her hand into the water. When she lifted her prize, she fumbled and nearly dropped it.
A human bone.
Then her fingers tightened. She would do whatever was necessary to end this once and for all.
* * *
Aiden loped toward the ruined castle in his werewolf form, his chest heaving, his heart pounding in time with his feet. All his thoughts were centered on what that bastard might be doing to Shayla.
Touching her.
Torturing her.
A snarl curled his muzzle, and he pushed for a burst of speed. The few wolves who had managed to keep up during most of the run fell back a few lengths. Water beaded off his thick fur, the clean air and rain helping clear the drug from his system, but it also meant heavy flooding in the tunnels.
He’d allowed Shayla to accompany them despite the danger. He’d believed he could keep her safe.
He’d been a fool, and now she was alone in the dark with a lunatic.
Lightning crashed, and the ragged edges of the ruins stood out in stark relief against the stormy sea. His skin crawled with the irrational fear that if he went back into that hellhole, he’d never emerge again. But to have Shayla back, healthy and safe, he’d risk the wrath of hell and all its minions.
Hundreds of blue and purple flowers were scattered around the base of the castle.
Wolfsbane.
The wind and rain dampened the effects, but it wouldn’t take much to pull him under again.
Aiden took one last breath of clean air and charged to where Shayla had found the entrance. The hole was a tiny thing. If he hadn’t been searching, he might have missed it.
Aiden leapt and landed hard…and wedged himself tight in the narrow opening. His weight sucked him down, but much too slowly. He slammed his fist against the slick surface, but the mud absorbed the blow, the ground taking its own precious time before it finally crumbled. Sensing the weakness, he rammed his fists down twice more before he fell through air.
He landed in a crouch, claws scraping against stone. The ceiling pelted him with large chunks of mud and rain as the fragile structure began a slow landslide. Flashes of lightning sent shadows dancing before the celling sealed shut behind him.
They were on their own.
There would be no rescue.
His eyes adjusted in seconds, but he faltered when the tunnel split off in two different directions. If he took the wrong route, he’d lose precious time.
He stopped and closed his eyes.
The world around him quieted. Two faint heartbeats echoed off to the right. Without hesitation, he sprinted through the tunnel, running full tilt into the blackened corridor.
There was no reason to be quiet.
The man wanted him, he was going to get him.
Water sloshed up to his shins and continued to rise. The stench of decay brought back visceral memories of his cramped cell. Tunnels closed in on him, the weight of the walls pressing against his chest, smothering all the air. His back tightened as he unconsciously braced for the inevitable strike of the whip. His careened off a sharp stone corner, shaking him out of the horror of his memories, and he concentrated on Shayla to preserve his sanity.
She must have been terrified when she stumbled upon him in the dungeon. The first thing he recalled was her beauty beneath the muck, her fierce refusal to back down.
She’d been trapped underground, stuck in the dark, yet stopped to rescue a being more beast than man imprisoned in an ancient dungeon. She’d been attacked by two men, beaten and left to drown.
She’d saved his life more than once and never complained. She stood up to him, called him a caveman when he deserved it. He hadn’t given her enough credit. Now that the roles were reversed, he was amazed at her ability to adapt. Anyone else would’ve buckled at the first hurdle.
A meager light shone ahead, and Aiden recognized the all-too-familiar setting of his cell. The hall was clear. He approached the dungeon cautiously, waiting for an ambush. The last thing he expected to find was Jacob behind the locked door of his old cell. Aiden shoved his arm through the bars, fur singeing at the sharp bite of silver, but he didn’t back down. “Where is she?”
The words were a little mumbled, distorted by his canines and muzzle.
The man leaned against the far wall as if he hadn’t a care in the world. That was if you ignored his fat lip and bloodied face.
Aiden smirked, realizing Shayla had landed a few well-deserved shots. But that pleasure dimmed when he envisaged the retaliation she’d suffered in return.
Jacob smiled, his eyes gone glassy with madness and the need for retribution. His absolute belief of his superiority thickened the air as he lifted a key. “How about we trade?”
The bastard’s smug attitude set his teeth on edge.
Something was wrong.
Instead of ripping his head off as his beast demanded, Aiden angled his body until he could see every corner of the cell he knew so intimately.
It was empty except for the human filth leaning so nonchalantly against one wall. Shayla was gone. His heart bottomed out, and Aiden very deliberately turned toward Jacob. “I’m listening.”
“Your little rebellion destroyed my business.”
Aiden’s growl rumbled in the tunnels, his rage deepening at how Jacob so casually phrased his justification of genocide.
“You will give me your blood, a small dose now to confirm its potency. Then you’ll give me the rest to re-stock my inventory. In exchange, you may have the key to release your little pet.” Jacob nodded to wall behind Aiden.
Dread thickened in his gut. There was only one thing behind him…the old, dilapidated cell that they used to punish unruly wolves. Aiden whirled, eyes tracking across the other room. It appeared empty on the first sweep, and he crammed closer to the wall, not even breathing as he searched again. It was only when he studied the surface of the pool that he spotted Shayla.
She was alive.
He nearly dropped to his knees. His heart thudded painfully against his ribs. “Shayla.”
She didn’t respond at all, and worry ate away what little calm he’d managed to scrape together.
Time was running out.
No matter how much his mind rebelled, the quickest way to save her was to do what the bastard wanted.
For now.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Desperate to get to Shayla, Aiden clutched the bars of the cell. Flesh sizzled, the skin of his pal
ms tightened then cracked, but he didn’t feel any of it. He heaved against the bars until his muscles trembled under the strain. Only when the entire wall threatened to come crashing down on top of her did Aiden reluctantly stopped, afraid to even breathe as the stones shifted.
A roar of frustration ripped from his throat.
He was so close.
“It’s useless, you know. You’ll not get to her without the key. The metal is reinforced. The longer you touch it, the more the silver will poison you. Weaken you. You tried for months and never escaped. Use force, and you’ll only bring the place down on her lovely little head.”
Aiden reluctantly conceded defeat. When he uncurled his fingers, the top layers of his skin peeled away like thick calluses.
Determined to conserve his energy, he released his hold over his wolf. His body melted down, pressure increased on his bones, the density making them heavier. Fur receded, his skin grew tight until it felt stretched over his bones.
It worried him that she hadn’t reacted to anything.
Something wasn’t right.
“Shayla? Can you hear me?”
Her eyelids fluttered, but that was her only response.
A chill crept from her cell, so cold a light crust of ice floated on the water.
Then it hit him.
She was using her fucking powers, calling her wraiths.
Killing herself to save him.
His heart skipped a beat before he finally conceded there was only one thing he could do to save her.
As if sensing his capitulation, Jacob wandered toward the edges of his prison. “There is a syringe by the wall where the key used to hang before I took to wearing it. You know the place, don’t you? You used to stare at it for hours.”
Aiden lifted his head to see a needle resting at eye level. Everything in him rebelled against giving into the demand.
Until he looked back and saw Shayla barely clinging to life. Then he did what two months in prison failed to do and stabbed the needle into his arm.
“Give it here.”
Jacob had his face pressed up against the bars of the prison, his arm outstretched as far as he could reach. Aiden wanted to rip off that arm and beat him with it. The only thing that stayed his hand was the bastard had left the key at the far end of the cell. Frustration lengthened his canines. Shayla didn’t have time for his team to dismantle the prison.
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