Page 26 of Posing for the Artist Wolf

Suddenly, a figure stepped out in front of our car, materializing from the darkness.

“Kai, look out!” I screamed.

Kai slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching against the asphalt. The car swerved, and my stomach lurched as we careened off the road.

The world spun, a sickening crunch of metal and the sharp scent of pine filling my senses. When everything finally stilled, my head was throbbing. I blinked, trying to clear my vision.

“Kai?” I croaked, turning to look at him. My blood ran cold. He slumped against the door, a trickle of blood running down his temple. “Kai!”

Movement crunched in the darkness. I squinted into the night. Fireflies, I thought. Prayed.

Only fireflies didn’t blink.

Someone yanked open my door with inhuman strength. A figure leaned in, their face hidden in shadow. I pressed myself back against the seat, trying to get as far away as possible.

The figure sniffed the air, then muttered, “It’s not her.”

Another voice, from Kai’s side of the car, responded, “But this one will lure them right to us.”

CHAPTER NINE

KAI

Icame to with a jolt, my head pounding like a jackhammer. Groaning, I raised a hand to my temple. Pain radiated from the back of my skull, and I could feel a sticky patch of wetness matting my hair.

The acrid stench of blood—my blood—filled my nostrils.

But underneath that was something sweeter, familiar. Cinnamon and blackberries.

Claire.

“Kai? Oh, thank fuck, you’re awake.” Her voice was close, too close. My eyes focused and there she was, hovering above me. The worry lines etched on her face made my chest ache. “I thought... I was scared you wouldn’t...”

“Shh,” I whispered. I tried to sit up, but pain lanced through my side. Broken ribs, probably. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, her silver hair catching what little light filtered into wherever the hell we were. “Just scared shitless.”

“What happened?” I asked, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. The road, someone stepping into the road, then nothing.

“They ran us off the road,” Claire murmured, her eyes darting to the door at the top of the stairs. “You hit your head pretty bad. They brought us here, wherever here is. It’s been a couple hours, I think.”

Fuck. This was my fault. I’d dragged Claire into this mess, and now we were both trapped in some dank basement that reeked of mold, stale piss, and far too much wolf.

I should have stayed far away from her. Should have caged my wolf to keep him from stealing my skin and tracking her in fur. Now here we were, my past crawling out to sink its claws into us both.

My inner furry bastard lifted a lip and growled.

“How many?” I asked, wincing as I sat up straighter. My side protested, but I bit back a grunt of pain. Didn’t want Claire to worry any more than she already was.

“Four, I think. Maybe five. They’ve come to check on us a couple of times.” She shifted closer, and I could see her worrying her lower lip. “I think we’re still in Mill Creek. The drive wasn’t that long.”

Smart girl. Already gathering intel. Pride surged through me, replacing some of the fear. There were dozens of abandoned homes scattered throughout the area. Finding us wouldn’t be easy, even for the pack. And if these were Bowen’s men...

“Any idea what they want?” The pain in my head was subsiding, and I did a quick scan of my body. Those ribs were absolutely broken, but nothing else. A shift or two, and I would be right as rain.

Nothing as bad as my hand. The multiple breaks. The resets. The scars and tenderness that lingered as a reminder of my reckless fuckups.

Overhead, a floorboard creaked. Claire stiffened, her eyes darting to the ceiling. Her hand crept toward mine, grasping tight as she tracked the footsteps above us.

---