Page 108 of The Devil's Wrath

With unsteady legs, he hoisted me up beside him. I clung tightly, my legs buckling under the strain.

Before we could register what was happening, masked men descended upon us, encircling us with their weapons pointed, blocking any chance to flee.

In an instant, one of them landed a brutal strike against Theo’stemple, knocking him to the ground. I screamed as rough hands seized my damp hair from behind, yanking me away from him.

“Theo!” I cried in agony.

I thrashed against the unyielding grip of my captor. Panic surged through my veins as I fought desperately to break free, but it was futile. The man holding me was built like a tank, his arms like steel bands around my waist. Meanwhile, Theo managed to stagger to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury as he confronted them. There were four in total—the same masked men we had seen earlier in the SUV.

“Let her go,” Theo snarled, his fists balled at his sides. Blood trickled down his face, yet he barely flinched from the pain.

The men responded with mocking laughter—a harsh, jarring sound that sent shivers down my spine. The man gripping me tightened his hold, his fingers sinking painfully into my arms. “Not a chance,” he sneered. “The boss has plans for her.”

“Your boss can go to hell,” Theo spat. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with the jaw of the closest assailant. But it made little difference. Outnumbered and outmatched, his strength had waned under the chill of the river.

I writhed and screamed, clawing at my captor’s eyes, but his iron grip on my throat stifled my cries.

“Not so fast, princess,” his gruff voice growled in my ear. The odor of cigarettes and stale sweat emanated from him, making my stomach churn. “You’re coming with us.”

“No!” Theo bellowed, summoning every last bit of strength to break free and rescue me as they dragged me up the embankment and back to the road.

Theo fought like a man possessed to reach me—his fists a blur of furious strikes landing on jaws and noses with sickening crunches. But for every opponent he knocked down, another took their place, delivering relentless kicks and punches that eventually drove him to his knees.

“Theo!” I screamed in vain.

The man holding me clamped a gloved hand over my mouth. “Quiet, bitch,” he snarled, dragging me toward the waiting SUV.

Tears streamed down my face as I fought against him with everyounce of strength I possessed, but my body was weakened from the icy river, and my limbs were heavy and uncooperative. He yanked my arms painfully behind my back before he zip-tied my wrists together, then tossed me into the back seat of the SUV.

Panic clawed at my chest as I struggled to sit up, my bound hands making it nearly impossible. Hot tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I had to get to Theo. I had to help him. Fear for his life, for our unborn child’s life, consumed me. The man grabbed another fistful of my hair, wrenching my head back painfully.

“Don’t even think about trying anything,” he warned, his breath hot against my ear. “Or I’ll put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours.”

The SUV lurched forward, tires screeching as we sped away from the bridge, away from Theo. A wail of despair tore from my throat. “No! Theo!”

My heart shattered with every mile that separated us. The man beside me kept a bruising grip on my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh through the soaked fabric of my dress. I shivered violently, my teeth chattering as the adrenaline wore off and the icy chill of my wet clothes seeped into my bones.

“W-where are you t-taking me?” I managed to stutter.

The man sneered, his cold eyes glinting behind his mask. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I swallowed back the rising panic, trying to calm my racing heart. I had to stay strong for Theo and our baby. Tears pricked at my eyes as I thought of Theo, battered and bleeding on the riverbank.

Please let him be okay, I prayed silently.Please let him find me.

THIRTY-EIGHT

THEO

Death was nothing like I’d expected. It felt oddly . . .painful. My consciousness faded in and out, each wave accompanied by pain, broken only by brief flashes of her face as she struggled to get to me. I’d fought until I couldn’t, praying for a miracle. Hoping that Wrenly being taken from my arms was nothing but a nightmare. Surely I’d wake up from being plagued by her screams echoing through my head as she was dragged away from me.

But the next time I opened my eyes, everything was a blinding white. I squinted against the brightness, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Was this Heaven? Or some sort of purgatory? As my vision adjusted, I realized I was in a hospital bed in the infirmary at the manor. A figure stirred beside me. It was my mother, slumped in a chair with her cheek resting on the head of the bed. Dark circles underscored her closed eyes, and her hair was a tangled mess. She looked exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept in days.

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry and raspy. The slight movement was enough to rouse her though. Her eyes fluttered open, widening in relief as they met mine.

“Oh, thank the heavens. You’re awake!” she exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes as she grasped my hand tightly. “We thought we’d lost you.”

“Where’s Wrenly?” I managed to croak out, my heart clenching at the memory of her being torn away from me.

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