Page 41 of Wolf Found

They hadn’t gagged him, so he could talk to them. He found that he didn’t want to, and not just because he thought whatever drug they had given him might make his tongue trip over itself. There was nothing he could say to these men to make them see reason. They had kidnapped him.

If Joseph truly believed what he’d said, he thought he was helping Graham. On the other hand, he’d also tried to reingratiate himself to Ash and failed, so which was the lie? Maybe they were both lies, and even Joseph didn’t know who he was.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Graham had figured out who he was and what he wanted, and these men didn’t have the power or strength to give it to him.

He wondered if he’d be taken to the Martingale alpha, and if maybe he would listen. Not likely. He was used to playing god-king to his own tiny empire of followers. None of them questioned him. The last person in the pack who’d had the power to do that was Ash.

Ash.

Graham squeezed his eyes tight and tried to find the pack bond they had formed. It was there. It had to be. Only an alpha could break pack bonds...

That was a chilling thought. Would the Martingale alpha be able to take the only thing Graham had ever wanted?

The tingling warmth of Ash filled his chest. Ash.

There was worry there. Downright fear, in fact, and Graham had never imagined feeling that from Ash. But there was also determination, and it bolstered Graham’s own. The Martingale pack couldn’t take Ash away from him.

Even if they shackled him to the old kitchen in the omega building for the rest of his life, he’d had Ash. If only for a moment, someone—multiple someones—had valued him for something other than his cooking skills.

Not that they hadn’t valued those too. In retrospect, he was beginning to realize he was actually quite good at cooking. He’d always known it was his particular talent, but he hadn’t thought himself better than anyone else who was good in the kitchen.

But then he’d started baking for the Second Chance Cafe, and people at the shop were always talking about how amazing his work was. Sometimes he’d selfishly stop in the middle of working and just listen in to the conversations happening in the dining area. About his work. He’d learned new words, like sublime and stupendous, from people talking about his baking.

Despite the dire situation, even remembering it made him smile.

His eyes flew open. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

Did they just want him back so that they could chain him up in the kitchen and make him work? That seemed a little arrogant; there were almost a dozen omegas at the enclave who could cook. Well, four who weren’t children and had any skill in the kitchen, and one of those was over eighty and slower than making damned croissants.

But there were other people. Even if none of the omegas could do it, they had over a hundred betas. Surely Graham wasn’t so much better than all of them, that he was worth all this trouble.

He dismissed the idea. It didn’t actually matter, did it? Whatever their reason was for forcing him to go back, it was wrong, and a dismissal of his own decision-making abilities.

If there was one thing Graham had discovered during his time in Colorado, it was that he was more than capable of making decisions not only in the kitchen, but in real life. Maybe they weren’t always the right decision, but that was okay. He was allowed to make mistakes and keep going.

That was how life worked.

His head went fuzzy after a while waiting there, listening to the murmuring voices but not making out any words, and he fell into a restless sleep.

When he woke again, he wasn’t in the van anymore. He also wasn’t in his old room in the omega building. This room was bigger and nicer, with an actual bed with a frame and box springs. He thought it might be one of the guest rooms in the alpha’s home.

Which meant, unless he was mistaken—

He went to the door, tried to turn the handle, and he’d been right. It was locked from the outside.

No wonder they’d brought him there. Even they knew they hadn’t brought him to a place he considered home anymore. They had brought him to a prison.

Perhaps he’d been especially arrogant thinking they wanted him back for his cooking. Perhaps they only wanted to punish him for daring to take control of his life. It begged the question of why they hadn’t done the same to Hannah, but he would never wish suffering on his friend, so instead he was glad she had escaped.

He went and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering how long he was going to be trapped there. Instinctively, he reached out and found Ash, still there in his heart, and held on tight with both hands.

Hours later—or maybe a few minutes—he heard the sound of a lock sliding open, and looked up in time to see Joseph standing in the doorway. He had a sad expression on his face, and it made Graham sick.

The man actually did believe he was helping.

Graham let his head fall back to the bed, not wanting to look at him.

They were silent for a while, neither moving nor speaking, before Joseph found his courage. “I know you don’t understand it now, but I had to protect you from that. He did the same thing to me once. Almost convinced me to leave my friends and family, just for him, for that purposeless kind of love.”

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