Page 76 of Wolf Bound

This time, when I wake up, I’m lying on a metal table, staring up at bright fluorescent lights. The room is cold and sterile. The walls are white with nothing on them, not even a window. I wish there was a window I could look out so could tell what time it is.

I blink rapidity to fight the leftover fogginess of the sedative Nicolai gave me. I pull my hands up so I can touch the sore spot on my face where his fist made contact, but I find my hands are chained to the table, and when I shift my feet, I discover they’re also chained down. With all my strength, I fight against the restraints. I kick and pull against the chains, but it’s no use, they won’t budge.

I throw my head back and shout in frustration. I knew whatever Nicolai had planned for me wasn’t going to be fun, but I chose to go to him anyway. I take a breath, close my eyes, and remind myself that as long as I’m suffering, the pack and Ryker aren’t.

“That was a good effort,” a voice I don’t recognize comes from behind me. I jerk my head to look at the man who has suddenly appeared. The smell of smoke fills the room. Not the scent of a cigarette or bonfire, no, this odor is different, not easily identifiable, just the smell of somethingburningthat disappears as quickly as it appeared. “However, those chains are charmed with magic,” he says. “And there’s no getting out of them.”

The tall, lanky man walks to the side of the table where I’m able to see him better. He has a dark olive complexion that is shockingly perfect. His hair is black, not just a really dark brown, butblack,and it shorn short on the sides. The style reminds me of Ryker’s, but this man’s hair is much longer on top and pushed back. Some longer tendrils fall forward onto his forehead and around his face. He’s actually very striking. His face is all sharp angles, with chiseled cheekbones and a defined jawline, although it’s not his face that captures my attention. It’s his eyes. They’reviolet.

“Who are you?” I ask, then, “Whatare you?”

The man smiles down at me with perfectly straight and white teeth. “Are we allowed to go around asking peoplewhatthey are? Seems a bit…intrusive,don’t you think?”

“Yeah, well, I’m tied to a table. All my manners went out the window the second Nicolai punched me in the face.” I sneer.

“Well, you can hardly tell where he punched you.” The man examines my face. “You’re a fast healer. Which is good. You’re going to need that little skill with what his plans are for you.”

“Whatarehis plans for me?” I narrow my eyes at the man.

“For starters, he needs to force the shift onto you.”

“Well, jokes on him. I can’t shift. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

The man’s eyes flash with an emotion I can only pinpoint as pity before he sighs. “He’s going to torture you, and he will keep torturing you until your wolf makes her grand entrance.”

I figured it would be something like that. Since my wolf has a tendency to break through in highly stressful or highly emotional moments, what better way to force her out then by hurting or torturing me?

“You never answered my question.” I stare up at him. “Who are you? What are you? And I also want to know why you’re here?”

“My name is Jax. I’m a demon, and I’ve been asked to help torture you.”

35

Ryker

They ended up losing the helicopter almost immediately, which wasn’t surprising. But they did see it headed east. It’s a start, but not enough to know where Nicolai is holding Pruitt.

It’s been ten hours since I watched Nicolai drag her away from me, and every hour that she’s gone, my anger and the darkness surrounding my heart grows.

I took that anger out on my room. I tore everything off the walls and threw it all either back at the walls or sent it smashing into the floor. I even shattered my bedroom window, and the curtains that are partially ripped off the walls wave in the breeze coming in from outside.

I stand in the ruins, leaning against my dresser, staring at myself in the cracked mirror that hangs crookedly above it. The person who I thought died when I found Pruitt, stares back at me. He looks a lot like me, but his blue eyes are empty. There’s no light or happiness there anymore. My hair is standing up on my head in every direction from where I kept reaching up and grabbing it in frustration, and Pru’s words float into my mind.

“I love your hair.”

I hear it over and over again as I storm into my bathroom and pull the clippers out of the drawer. I hear it still as I bring the clippers up to my head and run them through my hair. Flashes of that night we spent together at the house come to my mind. Images of her reaching up and tangling her fingers in my hair appear as the locks fall into the sink below.

“Don’t ever cut it.”

I had promised her I wouldn’t cut it, but she’s not here to stop me. She’s not here to make sure I hold up my promise. She’s not here to keep the darkness at bay. She’s not here to make me smile or laugh.She’s just not here.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the bathroom mirror, and it shatters into pieces. My head drops, and I breathe heavily, standing in the mess of glass and cut hair.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and I find Remington standing there. If she’s shocked at the state of my room and what I’ve done to myself, she doesn’t say. Instead, she holds up a flash drive in her hand.

“She gave this to me,” Remi explains. “I promised her I would make you watch it.”

“Watch what?” I growl.

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