Trinity Bound

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Oh goddess.

  Fear crawled on her skin like thousands of tiny bugs searching for a home.

  What was he going to do?

  Hannah took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. If she panicked and lost her focus, she might lose a chance of escape. She almost laughed at that. Escape? She wasn’t some alpha heroine in a romance novel. No, she was just a witch who needed her earth and missed a guy who shared a cell with her. She must be crazy.

  The strong scent of lemony citrus invaded her nose when she inhaled again. She almost coughed at the pungent aroma. She looked around at the sickly sterile environment and shivered at the cold practicality of Corbin’s torture chamber. The scent was harsh to her senses. Though not as strong as a werewolf’s, her sense of smell was more attentive than a normal human’s.

  Corbin moved above her, blocking her view of the room, a gleeful look in his eyes. Like a kid on Christmas morning waiting to open his enormous amounts of presents and stocking stuffers. She swallowed down the vomit threatening to rise. This was going to hurt. Badly.

  The evil wolf carried a cat-o’-nine tails in one hand and a whip in another.

  He never stopped smiling as he hit her five times with the tails then five times with the whip. She cried out with each hit, each stroke. She might have been strong in some respects, but the blinding pain racking her body and her blood soaking the floor was too much for her to handle. Tears leaked from her eyes as he hit and hit.

  “Tell me, Hannah, what is your power? Why are you so damn important?” Corbin sneered the words, looking engrossed in his flaying.

  Powers? That was what this was all about? She was just an earth witch, a rare one due to her healing. But that couldn’t be what he wanted. Right?

  Corbin hit her again, her vision going black, as the door opened. Hector, the Alpha, Corbin’s father, walked in.

  “Enough, Corbin.” Hector’s voice radiated power and demanded respect.

  Corbin stopped but looked like he was about to revolt. He took a deep breath, glared at Hannah, and then painstakingly placed the tools of his trade on their bench. With one last smirk in her direction, he stomped away like an insolent puppy.

  Hector stepped purposely toward her.

  She braced for his fist or hand, too pained to do anything but take it.

  But the strike never came.

  “Hannah, why won’t you use your powers?”

  She couldn’t, not without the earth. But she wouldn’t tell them that. No, she couldn’t tell them anything. Once she did, they wouldn’t need her anymore. Then they would kill her. And maybe Reed.

  Chapter 2

  Reed Jamenson watched as Corbin dragged Reed’s mate out of the dungeon against her will. He growled and pulled at his chains again as fury boiled in his veins. Hannah, sweet Hannah, with her curly brown hair and plump lips, dragged like a marionette doll whose strings were pulled too tight. Her screams seeped through the metal door, and he pulled at his chains, willing all of the strength a werewolf like him could possess. Blood seeped beneath the manacles as he struggled to no avail.

  Typical. He wasn’t strong enough to protect a mate he’d just met. Wasn’t even strong enough to protect himself. Shame dimmed his fury. That’s how he’d ended up in the Central’s clutches to begin with. Too weak to escape capture. He might have sacrificed himself to save his brother’s mate, but he could have done more. The Centrals had come to their den and attacked, killing countless Pack members. His brothers had fought valiantly, purposely. Yet, Reed, only an artist who thought he could fight, had lost.

  They’d knocked him unconscious, thrown him in their truck, and taken him away. Three nights or so had passed, yet his family hadn’t come. Did they want to? When the Centrals had taken Willow, his sister-in-law, she’d been gone for only a day at most. Their family had chased after Anna, his other sister-in-law, but they were too late for her. Grief warred with his other emotions. What group would he land in? Or would they come for him at all? He was the fourth of six sons and one daughter. He held no power in the Pack, no purpose. He was just a man who liked to paint and fancied himself an artist. A nobody. Yeah, he was a werewolf and could kill a man with his bare hands, but he still felt inadequate sometimes.

  His arms and legs were a mottled collection of bruises and cuts spliced together in a macabre pattern that almost appealed to his artist senses. Almost. Every time they came in and he tried to help Hannah in any way, they beat him. His back and side were sore to the touch. No doubt he had bruised, if not broken, rib or two. They kept away from his face oddly enough. But Corbin and his cronies didn’t stray from Hannah’s. And Reed couldn’t protect her. Rage bubbled up from deep inside him.

  Reed shook his head to rid himself of those melancholy thoughts and took deep calming breaths. Acting irrational wouldn’t help; it could only harm in this situation. And frankly, he needed to get out of here and save Hannah. Even if he had to do it himself. They’d dragged her out of here and he could do nothing but watch and pull at his chains.

  The thought of her honey and bitter apple scent made his mouth salivate. Her corkscrew curls lay flat against her face when they let her walk or when she shook her head. His fingers ached to pull at one gently and see if it would spring back. He wanted to paint her angelic face, her chestnut hair. That’s what he did when he found a subject he found desirable. But Hannah was no normal subject. Her wide gray eyes stared at him with a glimmer of hope, and he prayed he could deliver. Though he was in a dark, gloomy dungeon, his cock still hardened at the thought of what she would taste like when he licked her skin. Or lower.

  “I’m sure you can find out hot stuff, once you actually get our mate out of here.”

  Reed’s wolf practically snickered at him. But that was par for the course. Fucking wolf never took anything too seriously, but still wanted to protect in his own way.

  “We’ll save her. We have to.”

  Reed could only agree.

  The metal door creaked open, and the demon walked in, a limp form in his arms. Reed bit back a moan. Hannah.

  The smell of blood, her blood, reached his nostrils before he saw the thin trails on her stomach, arms, and legs. He was going to fucking kill whoever had touched her. Corbin, the demon, the random guard who looked at her wrong, he didn’t care. They would die. Painfully.

  Her spilled blood enraged him. Muscles bulging, he pulled at his chains and tried to take a swipe at the demon. His hand turned to a claw as his wolf tried to take control, which was a departure from his wolf’s usual jovial self.

  The demon merely laughed at his attempt and stood back. With a nod to the camera, the chains attached to the collar around his neck tightened and pulled, blocking his oxygen. He still fought his chains, not caring if he passed out. The demon gave another nod. The two goons who’d taken Hannah out the door before came back and locked her to the wall again. She slumped to the floor unconscious, and he growled in pain for her.

  The demon smirked and walked out of the room, the goons on his heels like strays begging for scraps. Reed’s collar loosened, and he gasped for breath. As his body absorbed sweet oxygen, he took a closer look at Hannah. For some, most likely sadistic, reason, they’d placed her closer to him. He didn’t care to think of the whys yet, but now he could touch her, hold her, care for her. Though he wasn’t like North, his brother the doctor, he would do his best to heal her as well.

  He scooted on the stone floor, flicking pebbles of the broken wall away from her so she could be comfortable. Well, at least as comfortable as possible. She looked like a broken doll with her eyes closed and chocolate curls surrounding her pale face. He brushed a curl away, the soft hair like silk on his cut-up skin, and saw a large bruise forming on her face. A slight nick on her lip had already begun clotting, and Reed had to hold back a growl of anger. He didn’t want to scare her. Only kill that slimy fuck, Corbin.

  Long gashes ran up her torso, arms, and legs. The thought of the whip or whatever the fucker had used made him want to v
omit then go back and use the damn weapon on Corbin. Yeah, that sounded nice. Maybe he’d give it to Hannah when she woke up so she could have a go and take vengeance on the man. That thought was almost enough to perk him up.

  Reed leaned over her, careful of her injuries and whispered her name.

  “Hannah,” he whispered again, caressing the unbruised side of her face. Despite the coldness of the room and the loss of blood, warmth radiated from her skin. He inhaled her honey and bitter apple scent again, this time detecting a faint earthy scent.

  Interesting.

  His mate was a witch. He liked the idea she already knew of the supernatural. Once they got out of this, he wouldn’t have to explain everything to her like Jasper had with Willow and Kade had with Melanie. It was nice at least something was going his way.

  “Hannah.”

  She mumbled something incoherent and turned into his palm, nuzzling him. His heart swelled at the unfamiliar touch of a mate leaning closer. Was this what his brothers felt every time their mates walked into the room? He liked it already.

  Even bruised, bleeding, and beaten, his mate was cute.

  Her lips parted and Reed felt the very inappropriate urge to kiss her. He shook his head. Seriously man, not the right time. And frankly his mind was too befuddled to think about any aspects of mating besides the big picture.

  Reed looked around for something to clean Hannah with, but in the moldy dungeon, not much was available. Desperate to at least clean up the dried blood, he tore strips off his shirt that lay on the ground next to where he was chained, the sounds of ripping fabric echoing off the stone walls. He took the strips of cotton and placed them against the wall, collecting the droplets and small streams of water along the stone. Now damp with whatever moisture he could get, he took the strips and carefully cleaned around her wounds. Only small gashes rose along her skin, thankfully. For the most part, there only seemed to be bruising and angry red lash marks. The bastard had only cut her skin in some places.

  His scent mingled with hers, crisp apples and wolf. He liked it. And by the growling contentment he heard from his wolf, he did too. He could get used to this. But something still nagged at him. Something was missing. Was it because of where they were? Because they hadn’t completed the mating? This was his first time meeting a potential mate. He didn’t know quite what to feel—what was right. Not all things could come back to instinct.

  That missing feeling crept up on him. Was this how Kade felt with Tracy? He had met another potential before he met Melanie, and it hadn’t worked out. Did Kade also feel this missing element? Something lacking? Was Hannah really the right one for him?

  Reed shook it off. This was not the time to think about such things. He needed to heal Hannah.

  He traced her face again with the tips of his fingers, reveling in her beauty even with the swelling around her bruises.

  Hannah opened her eyes and screamed.

  “Hannah, shh,” Reed gently whispered. “It’s okay. It’s me, Reed. I won’t let him hurt you again. I promise.”

  Reed stared into her dove gray eyes, pleading for her to believe him, even though he knew some things might be out of his control.

  Hannah took a deep breath and then sank into his arms. Her warm weight felt like heaven. Like home. He held her to his chest, careful of her hurts, and whispered reassurances in her ear.

  “Hannah, don’t panic, baby. We have to be quiet. The cameras are still on, and they can hear us.” He kissed her temple, too weak not to relish her sweet taste. “I don’t know why they put us so close together this time, but we can use it to our advantage. We can try to formulate a plan and get out of here. I’ll protect you. I promise.”

  “I’m not incapable.” Hannah’s soft voice reached his ears. “I can help to.”

  Reed let out a dry chuckle. “Good, because we may need it.”

  She let out a surprised laugh then cringed in pain. Reed stiffened and his heart sped up.

  “What hurts, Hannah? Tell me and I can help. I don’t know much, but I’ll do what I can.”

  He couldn’t let go of her completely, but he did survey her body to check her cuts. Okay, he also looked because her curves were damned delicious. Bitable for sure.

  He tore more off his shirt, noticing the way Hannah’s gaze never strayed far from his naked chest. Reed almost preened for her but caught himself, finding that slightly inappropriate. As he cleaned up the rest of the dried blood, she cuddled into him, and he bit his lip not to groan at the contact. Definitely not the time to be thinking about pounding into her soft curves.

  He stroked her face again, staring into her eyes. He could get lost in those eyes.

  “Really, Reed? How cliché can you get?”

  Reed held in a laugh at his wolf. Yeah, that pretty much summed up his thoughts for the moment.

  “Dammit, I hate my powers sometimes,” Hannah grumbled.

  Startled at the curse coming out of her seemingly sweet mouth, it Reed took a moment to comprehend what she’d said.

  “Huh?” Smooth.

  “My powers. I’m a healer. But I can only heal others. Not myself.” She bit her lip in what he thought was annoyance and looked damn cute.

  “You’re a healer?”

  “Uh huh. So I can heal you, if you don’t mind me touching you.” Again, her teeth bit into her plump lip.

  His eyes widened, and he told himself to remember the thing about touching for later. Their Pack was missing a true Healer. One who could heal by the touch of their hand and would strengthen the Pack. North, his brother, was their doctor. But it wasn’t the same. Could this be fate giving him a nudge?

  “Um, you can heal me. I don’t mind.” He felt his ears warm, and he knew he must be blushing like a school boy. Oh, yes, that would show her how perfect I am for her. Act like a virgin in the back of my mom’s Buick.

  “Okay, this won’t hurt. But it might tingle.”

  She placed her warm hands on his chest and ribs. They both gasped at the contact. Did she feel something too? He didn’t think witches had clear mates like werewolves did, but he couldn’t be sure. His body tingled where her skin touched his. He felt the muscles and ribs knitting together, blood pulsating in his veins. Who knew healing could be so erotic? He growled at the thought of her hands on another male while she healed them. Did they feel this good too?

  Hannah quickly lifted her hands. Reed felt lost at the loss of her touch.

  “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” she said, panting a bit, but still sounding worried.

  “What? No. It felt good actually.” Again, he felt his face heat up.

  “Oh, but you growled.” She scrunched her brows, utterly confused and very cute.

  “No, I was just thinking about something else. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Oh you didn’t scare me. I don’t think you could ever scare me.” She ducked her head, but not before Reed caught a shy smile on her face.

  He didn’t know what to feel about that. Did that mean she didn’t think he could protect her? Or did she feel safe around him? He hoped it was the latter.

  She smiled then settled into his arms, careful of her wounds. Hannah felt incredible next to him. Right. But still, something was missing. Something important. He just didn’t know what. And even though they fit together quite perfectly, he didn’t tell her they were mates. This wasn’t the right time, and frankly, he had no idea how to bring it up. They needed to get out of the basement first. Then he needed to kill some sadistic ass.

  Chapter 3

  Josh Kolb rubbed the back of his neck, the tension of the day ebbing through his nerve endings, screeching at him to take a break. Right, like that would happen. Weary exhaustion crept through his body. He was getting too damn old for this shit. He’d been working for his buddy’s security company for five long years since he’d got out of the SEALs.

  He’d just got off a job he was sure was slowly sucking the life out of him. Mrs. Carnoski, an elderly woman who in no way resembled
a nice grandmother type, was an ice queen with a stick up her ass. No matter how many times he showed the woman how to set the alarm and work the system, she still needed his “help.” And by help, he meant she needed to press her Botox body against him and flirt endlessly with innuendos no one could mistake. Josh cringed at the thought of her touching him. Not even on his weakest days would he ever want that bag of bones.

  Still fuming and a little uncomfortable, he walked to the hot dog stand and ordered a reindeer dog. He loved Jim’s. Homemade sausage from reindeer, boar, elk, or anything the man could hunt for himself. Jim would grill it once it was ordered then add caramelized onions and cream cheese. Add a bag of chips and a Coke and Josh had himself a delicious meal for five bucks. Not too shabby.