Page 97 of The Weakest Wolf

All the fight goes right out of me.

I peel my eyes open and I wish I hadn’t. Bowen stands over me wearing blood and skin. Nothing else. None of the blood is his because there’s no way he would go up against an alpha if he didn’t have to. He’ll sacrifice the rest of the pack for that task.

He smiles down at me, his wolf in his brown eyes. “Or maybe you liked all the special attention I showed you and want more of it, hmm?”

I forget about everything but my terror.

Bowen must scent my fear because his smile widens before he turns to the farmhouse, dragging me along behind him. “Let’s explore that, shall we?”

My eyes fix on the fighting wolves. Galen is there. I should call for help, I should do… something.

But all I can do is shake.

I don’t think I blink until the farmhouse door slams shut behind us, trapping me inside the house with Bowen.

And I wake up.

Fight, Sierra.

Fight.

I twist and struggle to break Bowen’s hold. He stumbles and I cry out when his grip tightens in my hair. “Fucking bitch,” he snarls as he regains his footing.

My hope dies as he drags me further down the hallway.

We pass the kitchen, the dining room, and the lounge. With every door, I get further and further away from the front door. And escape.

“How about we try something else this time,” Bowen suggests, his voice filled with new excitement, “something a little more… intimate?”

Oh God, he’s taking me to a bedroom.

My teeth chatter as a cold sweat breaks out all over my body.

Bowen chuckles. “I thought you’d be begging by now. Or at least making me an offer, something similar to the one that mother of yours made. Maybe we could—”

I throw myself back against Bowen’s legs. I can’t hear this. Not again.

Bowen goes down, and the sheer relief of my release washes over me, but only for a second.

After scrambling to my feet, I take off. I won’t make it to the front door when I can already feel Bowen bearing down on me. I dart past the lounge and the dining room. Nothing in them will help me.

Not like the kitchen.

My hands grip the kitchen doorway and I propel myself inside. As I turn, a soft gust of wind ruffles my hair and a harsh swear signals how close Bowen was.

But then my feet fly out from beneath me, and screaming, I fall. A second later, Bowen curses again.

My breath punches out of me as my back slaps against the floor.

What the hell?

I stare in disbelief. Bacon? Why is there…?Breakfast. I made breakfast, and Galen swept everything to the floor before he…

Uh, not the time to think of that, Sierra.

Darting a glance behind me, I don’t expect to find Bowen pushing himself to his hands, his face twisted in confusion.

If this wasn’t life or death, it would almost be funny.

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