Page 59 of Vengeful Mates

She clasped my wrist and pushed it down. “It’s just nerves. I’m fine to ride.” My mate always put up the strong act and never showed weakness. An act she assumed since joining her father’s club.

“You’re worried about this?”

“Yeah.” That explained why her stomach didn’t settle.

“Me, too.”

She pawed at my cut and tugged me closer. “Come back to me, Alaric Hawke, or I’ll kick your ass to the Underworld and back.”

I grinned and saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.” I leaned in to whisper the rest to her, “You’re sexy when you get all bossy.”

She smiled even though her bond still roiled. “I’d be happy to bring my inner dominatrix out for you.”

I saluted her again. “Yes, ma’am.”

She giggled, eyes shining with love and appreciation. I tucked her head in the crook between my neck and shoulder.

The sudden smell of fear permeated the room. Earlier, I put it down to angst from Dash and his three men along for the ride. I hadn’t smelled it out here though. The ginger beer brewing in the kitchen masked the smell.

“Do you smell that?” I asked her.

Aaliyah clutched her belly. “It’s making me feel ill.”

“It’s coming from down the hallway.” I lifted us to our feet, clutched her hand and took her down the passage, following the scent.

We snooped, checking in Dash and Steele’s bedrooms, the offices, even the bathrooms, the odor growing stronger at the end of the hall.

Dirt and dust. Cold air and old furniture. A basement. We kept up our search until we found a door hidden in a fake closet and opened it.

“There’s someone down there,” my mate reiterated my conclusion.

A growl sounded at my prying open the door. Sharp. Threatening. Someone locked an animal down there. One of the men’s dogs. A rabid wolf shifter. Caution proceeded me.

My assessment changed whenhersmell hit me. Freesia and honey. Moonlight and wilderness. Sourness of fear and frustration. Tangy, metallic scent of rolled steel. Chains or a cell holding someone captive. My rabid werewolf theory gained traction.

“Stay there, angel, I’ll check it out.” I let go of my mate’s hand, wanting her safe at the top of the stairs. “Call for help if my inspection goes awry.”

Aaliyah’s magick wove around me like a protective blanket. “Someone might be hurt.” She was best positioned to detect injury or harm.

My mate’s steps creaked on the old wooden boards behind me. I paused to give her a warning to stay put. The fierceness in her eyes and challenge on our bond told me she wouldn’t back down. Proud of my brave mate, I clasped her hand, keeping her behind me, my body her shield.

Tension crackled on my nerves as we descended into the darkness. “Hello?” I called out.

No answer. Hinges squeaked on the bed springs. Shuffles along the concrete. The scent of distress amplified with each step.

“Who’s down here?” Again, no reply.

At the bottom of the cellar, I paused, blocking Aaliyah’s path. Vigilant, I scanned the darkness with my shifter vision. Old shelves, chairs, and cartons of beer in one corner. Cell in the other with wrought iron bars. A silhouette inside the cage. Taller than Aaliyah. Curvier and fuller boned. A shifter by the flash of golden brown in her eyes.

Fuck. Dash kept a woman captive.

I smelled her fear from upstairs but confused it for the men’s.

“Oh, honey, are you hurt?” Aaliyah’s hand slipped from mine as she tried to nudge past me. I caught her wrist to keep her with me, bringing her down the final step to the concrete floor beside me for a better examination.

Isis’ magick scanned the cage for wounds and any danger.

My mate raised her palms. “My name’s Aaliyah. I’m friend, not foe. Are you hurt, honey?”

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