Page 69 of Fate Awakened

My breathing becomes quick and shallow, and my eyes flash to the other men surrounding me—the men who brought me here.

Holy shit.

Fear grips me as I wonder what in the world I’ve gotten myself mixed up in. My throat is dry, and I attempt to swallow, trying desperately to take in air. My body takes a step to run. Terror overtakes my common sense, when a firm hand grabs the back of my arm, causing me to cry out, and I slam my eyes shut against this new threat. Hoping, praying to a God I don’t even believe in, that all of this is a terrible nightmare, a drug-induced psychosis—anything but reality.

My nails dig into the flesh of my palms, reminding me of my injuries, and the pain is the only grounding emotion I have at my disposal.

“You need to breathe. Calm down. Do the counting thing, whatever, but you can’t lose your cool right now. You’ll die. Fuck, I’m so sorry, Brielle. I never meant for you to get swept up in any of this. We’re going to get you out, but you have to find a way to calm down,” Hudson whispers so quietly I almost can’t hear him over the pounding in my ears.

The low volume of his voice forces me to focus on his words and, through that distraction, allows me to begin to take back my control.

I’m not a victim. I’m not weak. I’ll fight to survive this.

I take a deep breath, allowing my body to hold onto the oxygen as long as it can before slowly releasing it.

Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Exhale. One. Two. Three. Four.

I repeat the breathing three more times before my heart rate slows enough to allow my muscles to relax. A numbing calm falls over me as the shock of everything I’ve been through in the last hour washes over me.

Werewolves exist. They have me hostage. They’re negotiating a trade with…

My eyes flash open as Dante speaks again, and the reality of the code words finally make sense.

Alpha.

Dante is the Alpha.

They’re all wolves.

But Cain…

I force myself to look at him. He stands focused on the exchange happening between Dante and this new man. My eyes trace the muscles on his chest and arms, sliding over the wolf tattoo that peeks out at his collar.

It was always right there in front of me.

Using every bit of resolve I have left, I keep myself from crying. My eyes track the movements of the foreign man, still unable to comprehend what he and Dante are saying in their back-and-forth exchange. He looks at me and begins taking steps in my direction, crossing in front of Big Tony to take a closer look.

Everything around me feels as if it is moving in slow motion. The words he’s saying sound as if they’re traveling underwater to reach my ears. He stops in front of me. His eyes scan up my body like I’m an item for sale. I bite my lip, hoping the pain will keep me from losing the small amount of control I’ve been able to regain.

Closing my eyes, I take another deep breath, inhaling with it the scent of his expensive aftershave. The smell is almost familiar. I try to pull at the wisps of the memory before they recede out of my grasp.

The man's words finally form coherently in my mind, and I open my eyes at his now close proximity.

“She’s rather beautiful. I can see why you’d want her back. It’s a shame you’ll have to kill her,” he finishes, his tone giving away the joy it brings him to say those words.

Kill me?

Confusion floods my mind as Dante responds.

“That’s our problem, Deacon. Hand her over, and we will release Kole. I tire of your idling.” With his statement, he steps forward, causing the men around me to tense—all the men except Deacon.

He locks his eyes on mine, stepping closer, his finger drawing a line up the outside of my arm. Every part of me wants to recoil from his touch, but my fear has me frozen in place, knowing I can’t outrun a pack of wolves.

Deacon moves around me, trailing his finger gently across the curve of my shoulder. He places himself directly behind me, pressing his chest into my back, and tucks a wild curl behind my ear. I try to lean away but realize his other hand is locked at my waist, effectively trapping me in front of him.

“I hope you didn’t believe you would be saved,” he whispers into my ear before inhaling at my nape. I cringe, letting out an audible squeak as my eyes lose their battle at holding in my tears.

Locking eyes with Cain, I see his turmoil as he wants to move to get to me.

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