Page 43 of Sold to the Alpha Wolf

It took a good few minutes before my heart rate calmed down, and I was able to breathe evenly again. That nightmare, that…vision, had been so similar to the other one. And it felt real. I couldn’t shake it. My entire body believed that shit was going to happen unless I…unless I did something about it.

“What the hell is going on with me?” I whispered.

Glancing over at Jet, he slept soundly, his breathing even and smooth. I couldn’t wake him up. But I also couldn’t just go back to bed. The images were still there behind my eyes when I blinked, and I knew they meant something.

The library.

Jet had said there were resources there, and I had to know what was going on. Now.

Hurrying through the room to grab a slim-fitting nightgown and a robe that Kenzie had lent me, I silently slipped from the room. I descended the stairs until I was all the way to the basement, moving like a ghost through the halls.

The area down here was so different from the rest of the house—concrete slab walls and fucking cold as hell. There was a long hallway that only went in a single direction. I followed it past several rooms. One was clearly storage, filled with barrels and food, and even a meat curing station. The next was secured by a thick set of bars at the door, and I imagined it was some type of prison or dungeon.

Last on the right was the largest room, piled high with books on tables, on the floor, and lining the numerous shelves. I went in, immediately scanning the spines for anything that might pertain to the Völva, magic wolves, or wolfless shifters.

I ended up with quite the stack and took them to the large table in the center of the room. There was a panel that extended from inside the table, which was currently open to display a large map of the wolf territories on a glass panel.

As much as curiosity ignited as I looked at the map and the bit of paperwork by it, I had to understand what was going on with me. So, I began reading. Book after book, passage after passage, and after a few hours, my brain was swimming with all the information.

I leaned back in my chair, staring down at the last passage I’d read.

Believed to be associated with shifter children without a wolf, the Völva have existed for as long as wolves existed. Perhaps longer. Little is known about wolf origins, but they are inexorably linked to the Völva. What’s more, the appearance of a Völva and their gifts may be connected to a time of profound change for the entire shifter species. Their gifts are not to be ignored. Look to the horizon when a Völva appears, for as sure as a wolf howls, the birth of a Völva or the emergence of their gifts heralds a new era in magic.

“Well, shit.”

Chapter 18 - Jet

The red warmth of sunlight coming in through a crack in the drapes made me squint. It was morning, and I stretched against the bed, enjoying that blissful strain of waking up my muscles. Last night had been…it had been perfection, and I was ready to repeat that exquisite connection again. Rolling over, I slid my hands across the mattress a few inches, seeking out Senna’s sleeping form.

I had to reach further, and when I’d crossed the length of the bed, I started upright, looking down to see her side of the bed empty.

“Senna?”

When I called out into the room, there was no response, but what made the shiver running down my spine worse was my innate sense of Senna’s distance. She was nowhere in the room, but somewhere distant, and I could feel how cold the bed was. She’d been gone for a while.

Flinging the covers off me, I scrambled to get on a pair of pajama pants.

“Senna!”

I ran to the door, throwing it open and hurrying down the stairs of the house. Keeping the yell sealed behind my lips as I dashed through the kitchen and foyer was a feat of strength I didn’t know how long I could maintain. But I didn’t want to wake the other wolves. Not yet.

Only if I truly couldn’t find Senna. Which I fucking would.

Coming to a halt in the long hallway centrally located in my home, I sucked in a deep breath, scenting the air for any indication of her direction. There was nothing near the front or back doors.

“Okaaay,” I dragged out the word, “that’s good, but where are you? Dammit, Senna.”

Rushing back toward the kitchen, more of her scent pinged. I zeroed in on the smell of my mate, that rose and almond aroma drawing me to her. There was another stairwell at the far corner of the home. It went down into the basement.

“What?” My heart surged as I spun and glanced down in that direction. “Fuck, are we keeping anyone down there right now? Shit!”

I took off running, flying down the stone steps with my feet pounding against the cold floor. Reason had long abandoned me at his point, and the fire in my blood to find Senna was all-consuming and destructive. Anything in my path to get to her would be torn to shreds—friend or foe. And I didn't have the strength to remind myself that was problematic at best.

Damp, cool air filled my nose, and I hurried past the storage chamber and the empty prison, barely letting myself feel glad about that on my mad search for my mate. Your pregnant, wolfless mate, at that.

Gods, I’d never felt a possessive fury like the one coursing through my veins, and the fear that gripped me—worrying over the possibility of Senna being injured—made my guts swirl like a boat in a hurricane.

Lungs burning from the strain of sprinting with everything I had, my wolf chomped at the bit to be freed. We can’t. What if I need fingers? What if she needs first aid?

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