Page 22 of Falling for My Shifter Boss

She becamemine.

My fists clench at my sides, fury burning through every inch of me. My wolf surges forward, and this time I don't fight it. The snarl that tears from my chest is barely human.

"Adrian." Eli's hand lands on my shoulder. "We'll find her."

I shake him off, lifting my head to inhale once more, locking onto her fading scent trail. West. They went west, toward the old industrial district.

I know exactly what I have to do.

Find her. Tear apart anyone who stands in my way.

And this time—this time I won't let her go.

Because Maya isn't just another name to add to my list of failures. She isn't just another person I couldn't save.

She's everything I never knew I needed.

And I'll burn this whole city down to bring her back.

Chapter 11

Maya

Consciousness returns in fragments. First, the cold—a bone-deep chill seeping through my clothes. Then pain, radiating from my shoulders down to my bound wrists. When I try to move, metal bites into my skin, and the sharp burn tells me everything I need to know. Silver.

I force my eyes open, but darkness greets me. The air is thick with the smell of damp concrete and something metallic—blood. My blood. Memory floods back: walking to my car after work, the strange scent I caught too late, the cloth pressed against my face. Hunters.

"Look who's finally awake." The voice comes from somewhere in the darkness, followed by footsteps. A light flicks on, harsh and blinding. I squint against it, trying to make out the figure approaching. "Sorry about the accommodations. Can't be too careful with your kind."

As my vision adjusts, I see him—tall, well-dressed, with the kind of face you'd expect to see in a boardroom, not a torture chamber. But his eyes are cold, calculating. Behind him stands a broader man with scarred knuckles, watching me like a cat eyeing wounded prey.

"Where am I?" My voice comes out raspy. How long was I unconscious?

"Somewhere no one will find you." The leader—because that's clearly what he is—crouches down to my level. "Unless you decide to be reasonable."

I test my bonds again, but the silver chains hold firm. My wolf, usually a constant presence in my mind, feels distant and sluggish. They must have dosed me with something. Wolfsbane, probably.

"The gala," he continues, studying my face. "Security details. Access points. Guest list. Simple information that could save you a lot of pain."

I manage a laugh, though it sounds more like a cough. "Go to hell."

The punch comes from the other man—Knuckles, I decide to call him. It catches me across the cheekbone, snapping my head to the side. Stars explode behind my eyes.

"That's just the beginning," Knuckles growls. "We've got all sorts of toys that work real nice on wolves."

As if to prove his point, he pulls out a syringe filled with purple liquid. My heart rate spikes—more wolfsbane. They're going to keep dosing me until I break or die.

But I won't tell them anything about the gala, about Adrian's plans. He's been working too hard, sacrificing too much to create a real sanctuary for our people. A place where supernatural children can grow up without fear, where families can put down roots without constantly looking over their shoulders. And Adrian... my mate, though we've barely acknowledged it. I won't be the reason his dreams turn to ashes.

"This is concentrated stuff," the leader explains casually, holding up the syringe so it catches what little light filters through the grimy basement windows. "Most wolves can't handle more than three doses before their systems start shutting down. But you seem strong. Maybe you'll last longer."

The needle slides into my neck. Fire spreads through my veins, and I can't hold back a gasp. My wolf whimpers, retreating further into the recesses of my mind. The room spins violently.

"We'll give you some time to reconsider your position," the leader says, his expensive shoes clicking against concrete as he moves toward the door. "Maybe a few hours alone will help adjust your attitude. Think about your family, Miss Ramirez. Think about what matters most."

The door slams shut, leaving me in near-total darkness. My throat burns with thirst, though the lingering effects of wolfsbane keep my stomach too unsettled for hunger. The silver cuffs have become a constant, searing presence around my wrists, made worse by every futile tug against the restraints. My shoulders scream from being bound behind me for so many hours.

The concrete floor beneath me has leached away what little warmth I had left, but I barely notice anymore. Everything hurts too much to distinguish individual discomforts. My wolf, usually a warm presence in my mind, feels distant and weak, like a candle flame struggling against the wind.

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