Page 6 of Claimed by the Pack

3

Chase

“What do you mean, you don't know where he is? Chase, you know the rules. Our hard and fast rule is that no one disappears without telling someone where they are, where we can find them.”

“I know, I'm sorry. Did you try calling him?”

Chelsea frowned at me. “Of course I called him. I've called him a dozen times over the past two days. And you want to know something, Chase?”

“What's that?”

“I would be really worried about him...but since you're our resident worrier, and you don't seem to be worried about him at all...”

“I'm worried,” I told her. “Look,” I held up my hand. “It's shaking.”

Chelsea looked like she wanted to smile, but she didn't. She kept the stern look on her face and said, “I see that, but you see Chase, I believe you're worried...about yourself. You're worried about how mad I'm going to be when I find out you're covering for him. It's not like Ridge to disappear, so either something happened to him, or he's up to something that he shouldn't be. Which is it, Chase? Talk to me.”

I reached up and wiped the sweat off my brow.

The rest of the pack was busy, the other alphas out on a new assignment, protection duty for a visiting politician...I was glad that none of them were there. As intimidating as Chelsea can be on her own, the idea of Titan glaring at me, or Will sitting there with an eyebrow cocked, or Clay or Manny, interjecting while Chelsea berated me would have pushed me over the line from nervous into nauseous.

I hated how nervous I was.

It wasn't natural for a wolf, I knew...but, I wasn't quite sure what to do about it either. Telling the truth usually helped.

I hated to lie.

But telling the truth in this case would get my best friend in trouble and he would likely kick my ass when it was all over.

“Chase,” Chelsea said again.

I sighed.

“He's with a girl, like I told you. He took her into the woods. She's his mate, he says.” I frowned at myself for adding the “he says.” It was just strange, when I met Cheyenne, I'd gotten a crazy strong feeling, a desire to kiss her. I'd met a lot of women I wanted to kiss in my life...but that feeling with Cheyenne was different. It almost drove me to just do it without thinking. The more I thought about that, and from what I remembered growing up in the pack, that was one of the signs of meeting your mate.

Between Ridge and me, I'm sure Cheyenne would pick Ridge anyways. I just needed to control my impulses once he brought her back to the compound, both out of respect and for my own safety. Ridge loved me, but what was his, was his. He didn't share, and if he cared about something or someone, he'd fight to the death for them.

“In the woods? Is she a wolf?”

My stomach felt like someone was stabbing a knife into it and I felt acid rising up in my throat as I said, “No. She's human.”

“Son of a bitch!” Chelsea said. “Did he drug her, Chase?” The “drug” was a light sedative, derived from a plant in the forest. Us shifters had used it to help with sleep or anxiety for years, eating the leaves right off the plant. Somewhere along the way, one of us figured out how to extract the drug from the plant and encase it in an edible capsule and it had been used to “capture” human mates for years. Ridge had sent me to pick it up the last time I went into Bali for supplies. I felt like a criminal, meeting with the seller in a dark alley. The drug wasn't exactly illegal, but not exactly legal either. It wasn't on any kind of FDA or pharmaceutical data base...but they could figure out what it was and where it came from if they tried, and Chase was sure he'd be charged with something if he was caught with it. But for Ridge, his best friend, and his hero most days, he'd do anything.

“I didn't see...”

“Cut the bullshit Chase. Did he drug her? I saw a poster at the post office in town today. There's a girl who has gone missing. Is it her? Is her name Cheyenne?”

I couldn't keep it in any longer. Chelsea would figure it out anyways and then I'd be in deeper shit. “Yes, he drugged her, and yes, it's Cheyenne.” Just saying her name tickled my core. I had to get over that for sure or when Ridge did come back, he'd sense it. He had better senses than any wolf I'd ever known, even the alphas. That's why when he said Cheyenne was his mate, I didn't doubt him, despite my own feelings otherwise.

“Shit!” Chelsea jumped to her feet, reached down and picked up the carrier seat that her baby was sleeping in and headed for the door of the meeting room. Their compound had one large cabin with a meeting room, a kitchen and a guest room. The alphas and their child had their own little cabin, Ridge, me and Grayson shared one, and there were a dozen or so more, shared in different ways among the rest of the pack. I continued to sit there after Chelsea left, wondering how much trouble I was in. I figured it was pretty deep shit, and that's when I decided since I was already up a creek, I'd take it further and just throw the paddle over myself. I walked over to the back door of the cabin, cracked it open and sniffed the air. There was no scent of a wolf or a human and no sounds that anyone was around. I quickly stripped off my clothes and shifted. With the pup, Chelsea would have to drive up to the cabin in the woods. I could get there faster the back way, on four legs. I was a fast wolf, one of the fastest on our compound. It was really the only thing I had to offer...but at least it was something. I knew Ridge was going to be pissed at me, but no more so than Chelsea was and I'd survived that...so far.

* * *

Cheyenne

“Let me go!”I had been alone with Ridge in a small cabin in the woods for at least two days. I was a little disoriented, since he refused to let me go outside. I'd tried to run, more than once. I was halfway out one of the narrow windows one day when he caught me and another time, while he was sleeping, I'd stolen the key to the door. At least I thought he was asleep. He let me get the key in the door before he grabbed me, put me back in my room and locked me in. He was so maddeningly polite about it all too...at least most of the time.

I kicked him once, pretty hard in the chins and he growled at me. It was a literal growl, like an angry dog. That scared me, but not enough to lay down and be docile. If he was planning on raping or killing me, I would fight to the death. And if he was planning on any of that, I wished he'd just get it over with. Being locked up and not knowing what might happen was the worst kind of torture...at least that I knew so far.

---