Page 95 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

33

TILDA

It took me all of three weeks from being a respected member of this community to being their prisoner.

I’m kept under lock and key for forty-eight straight hours, not even allowed to leave to use the bathroom. I don’t get to see Enid, or anyone else I know. Patrick comes in once more to interrogate me about the den, and I refuse to answer any of his questions even when he threatens to torture me.

Then he says he’s contacting the Heavenly Host…trying to trade me for supplies.

What a fucking fool.

Another day passes, then another. The only way I know is by watching the red glow of the sun grow outside the tiny garden-level window in my cell, then disappear again.

I’m kept going by the knowledge that Reyes is alive. Things are tense for a bit on that first night, stabs of pain shooting from my chest to my shoulder—but they remind me that he’s still here. I would know if he was dead; I’m certain of that. I feel him gaining strength on day two, finally resting on day three, and then I feel him wake up.

Incense washes over me on that fourth morning, and I reach over in my cot like I’ll feel him there. He isn’t, obviously, but it tells me what I need to know.

He’ll come for me soon.

And I have to get out before he tries…or it’s going to be a bloodbath. More of our pack could die.

Getting out and meeting them halfway is the best course of action.

So, by day five, I’ve formulated a plan.

It does include potentially killing Patrick, but at this point I’m not averse to the idea. In fact, I’m ready to burn Homestead to the ground and drag Enid out with me…which may also factor into my plan. Maybe I’m going a little stir crazy, but my plan gets more and more elaborate, ending in a fiery display of rage.

I realize why when the moon rises that night.

It’s almost full…and I need my mate.

This is…less than ideal. I’m a grown woman who’s spent my entire life in full control of myself, and all of a sudden, there’s a monster in my chest that’s willing to do anything to get back to her mate. My wolf doesn’t care if there’s a town full of people here; they can all go to hell as far as she’s concerned.

The lines between us are getting blurry.

I think I like her rage.

Especially because I’m not just a member of the pack—I’m the Prime’s mate, and I won’t be separated from Reyes. I can feel his anger, simmering in the back of my mind like an open flame. It keeps me awake at night, my heart pounding in sync with his fury. Every moment in this damn cell sharpens my instincts, heightens the itch to fight, to escape. I’ve spent five nights here, pacing like a caged animal, waiting for someone to come through that door—someone I can end if it means getting back to him.

But of course, on the morning of the sixth day—the last day before the full moon—they send the one person I could never lay a finger on.

My sister.

I know it’s her before I even see her face. Her scent—lavender soap and that faint trace of mint tea she’s always loved—fills the room, stirring a mix of emotions I can’t untangle. Relief, fury, heartbreak. When the heavy metal door creaks open, Enid steps inside, clutching a satchel to her chest like it’s a shield. She’s still too thin, her frame too small for her age, and her eyes—so much like mine—widen the moment she sees me.

I’m sitting on the cot with my back against the wall, my legs stretched out in front of me, my hair tied in a messy knot on top of my head. The air is stifling, hot enough that sweat clings to my skin, making it feel like every breath is a chore. My whole body burns with restless energy, every muscle coiled tight, ready to spring.

But when I see her, that tension morphs into something else entirely.

“Oh,” I breathe, my voice sharp and bitter in the small space. “It’s you.”

Enid hesitates at the threshold, glancing over her shoulder before stepping fully inside. The door clangs shut behind her, the sound like a death knell in the silence. She presses herself against the far wall, clutching the strap of her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

She’s afraid of me.

My chest tightens, the realization hitting harder than I’d expected. My own sister—my blood—doesn’t trust me anymore. The people of Homestead have done this. They’ve poisoned her against me.

“What do you want, Enid?” I ask, my voice low but laced with venom. “Come to check if I’ve grown fangs yet? Or maybe to see if the lycan bite has made me sprout a tail?”

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