Page 81 of The Weakest Wolf

The cabin door swings open easily beneath my hand.

Not only is there no lock on the cabin door, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here except Sierra. Fresh scents linger, which tells me that Bowen was here, and recently.

Maybe he heard my truck engine roaring back onto pack land and that’s what chased him off, maybe he ran off for another reason. Relief mingles with disappointment. I need him dead, but right now, I need to know Sierra is okay more.

With the sun inching higher into the sky, the moment I shove the door open, light spills into the dark space. And I stop.

I just stop.

How the previous alpha fit a human-sized iron cage into such a small cabin hovers on the periphery of my mind, but that isn’t my sole focus.

The woman, huddled in a small ball, in the darkest corner of the cage, her pain-filled whimpers breaking the silence, is.

Although the light from outside doesn’t touch her, that doesn’t mean I can’t see the dark bruises covering her back. It doesn’t mean I miss her jagged haircut that ends at her neck. It doesn’t mean I can’t tell that her arm has been badly broken, and one of her legs as well.

I step into the room, letting the door slam shut behind me.

Her whimpers, the sound of an animal in pain, grows.

Rage fills me, overflowing until I shake with it.

Your fault. This is all your fault.

I move toward the cage door. “Sierra?” I speak in a low voice, hoping it’ll calm the terror that I can taste. “It’s me. It’s okay.”

She burrows further into the corner.

I pull on the door. It doesn’t budge, so I lower my gaze and take in the keyhole. Locked. The bastard beat the shit out of her and locked her back in there. Maybe so he could rest up and come back later to pick up where he’d left off, or maybe he never intended to come back at all.

With all I’ve seen in this pack, both possibilities seem likely.

I grip the door with both hands and pull.

Nothing happens.

Which means I’m dealing with real iron here. For most shifters, bending or breaking iron would be impossible. Real iron like this is strong—almost too strong for a shifter to break.

My gaze returns to Sierra’s trembling body, and I grit my teeth and pull harder.

Metal screams.

You left her here, and this is what Bowen did to her. You’re as much to blame as he is. Is it any wonder she’s trying to crawl through the iron bars to get away from you?

Metal screeches. I grit my teeth and pull harder, my muscles straining with the effort. Something gives. Not much, but it’s a small sign—the first—that this is working. That I can do this.

I give it everything I have. All my strength, all my fury, all of it.

And it’s not enough.

Growling in frustration, I’m preparing for another attempt when my wolf’s snarls fill my head. There are no words, just a flood of raw emotion. Possession.

Mine.

Rage too.

Yes, she’s ours.

And something impossible happens.

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