Page 20 of Sold Wolf Slave

I didn’t want to believe him—I wanted to be angry at him. He had still won me, still married me against my will. And yet, there was a gentleness to him I hadn’t seen from other men here, or other slavers in general.

That’s not true, a voice whispered in my head.Don’t forget about Erik. He seemed nice enough until he and his friends grabbed you.

The voice was right. I couldn’t trust Will, no matter how kindly he treated me. For all I knew, he could just be biding his time, getting me to open up to him just so he could have more fun breaking me later.

The worst part about the whole thing was that my wolf was drawn to him. She wanted to be near him. She liked the way he smelled, like sea breeze and cedar, and she loved the way he fought so fiercely and cleverly. She was intrigued by him. And despite my best efforts, I wasn’t immune. It was hard for me not to imagine what it would feel like to have his lips caress my neck, or those calloused hands run along my sides.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the image. I didn’t need that right now. I had enough problems without adding him to the mix. And there was still no guarantee I could trust him, no matter what he said.

And none of that changed the fact that I couldn’t get Morgan out of my head. She loomed over every other thought, constantly there as I tried to figure out how to save her. I had no idea where she had been taken, and the thought continued to eat at me like a parasite gnawing its way toward my heart.

I had to do something about it. But I couldn’t. Not from here. That said, that didn’t mean I couldn’t do anything. I could at least see her, make sure she was all right.

The instant I knew Will wasn’t going to bother me, I slid out of bed. I crept barefoot down the hall, my ears pricked for any sign of life elsewhere in the house.

I came to the bathroom door. I looked around one last time, slipped inside, then closed and locked the door behind me.

Staring at the sink, my heart started working overtime as I stared into the marble basin. I should be rushing over to cast the spell I planned on casting, except fear gripped my insides. As desperately as I wanted to see Morgan, I was terrified of what I might end up seeing.

But not knowing was worse. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and grabbed the faucet. I filled the sink withwater. Once it was filled, I pricked my finger. Letting several crimson drops fall into the water, I dipped my finger into the water and stirred, muttering under my breath softly enough that my voice wouldn’t carry past the door. The spell cast, I removed my finger, stepped back, and waited, barely breathing.

One moment, I was staring at the bottom of the basin. Next, the water rippled and vanished, replaced by a crisp image of Morgan. Her head was bowed, but I could still recognize the curly, auburn hair. She was carrying something on a tray—a glass filled with amber liquid.

I watched, searching for any clues that might tell me where she was. She was in a grand hall or room of some sort, with elegant artwork and glittering, gilded walls. I let out a soft sigh of relief as I watched. They had at least moved her to one of the nice manors, where only the wealthiest of the members lived. She was still a slave, but it was a better fate than being sent to the fighting pits or one of the brothels in the city.

I waited to see if I could catch a glimpse of her master. If I could learn where she was, maybe I could figure out a plan on how to get her out.

She pushed through a door into a massive office. A figure sat behind a large desk, his head bowed. Something looked familiar about him, but I couldn’t tell what. I watched, barely breathing. If she had already been sold, I wanted to know who it was.

Then the shifter raised his head, and my world crashed as I recognized the harsh, handsome lines and dark hair of Cain. I stared, refusing to believe my eyes as he reached out and plucked the glass from Morgan’s tray. His eyes flicked up and down her body, a slow, disgusting smile spreading across his face as he took a sip, his eyes never leaving Morgan.

I staggered back, my concentration snapped as shock rattled my system. The image vanished, replaced by agitated water, traces of pink from my blood still swirling inside. I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

Except scrying didn’t lie. Morgan was one of Cain’s personal slaves.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch the mirror. I ran my fingers through my hair as I struggled to take deep breaths, my mind spinning. I’d failed her. Again. I had tried and tried to protect her, to get her out of harm’s way, and all I seemed to do was force her deeper into danger.

I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand here, doing nothing. I needed to save her. If she were under Cain’s control now, there was no telling what might happen to her.

Your fault, a nagging voice hissed in my ear.All your fault.

If I hadn’t rocked the boat, if I’d just stayed in my lane and not tried to escape, Morgan wouldn’t be there. She would still be in a cell, waiting for who knew what. But that had to be better than serving Cain, a cruel, sadistic slaver who would get enjoyment out of breaking someone as sweet and innocent as Morgan.

If it was my fault, then I had to be the one to fix it.

I closed my eyes, letting myself slide down to the floor as I took deep, steadying breaths, trying to keep my composure as my head spun and my stomach flipped upside down. I stayed there for what felt like an eternity as I let the shock and guilt wash over me.

Just a couple of minutes, I told myself.Then get a grip and do something about it.

Once I got a grip on myself, I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet, mind already set on what I was going to do.

I had to break her out.

I knew where Cain lived—everyone did. Even if he had tried to conceal it, which he had never bothered doing, the massive palace-like mansion in the center of town would have given it away. I didn’t know precisely how to get inside, but I’d heard whispers from other slaves about back entrances for servants and smuggling slaves in and out in secret. All I needed was to find one of them, get in, and figure out a way to break her out.

Impulsively, I wanted to try and do it all in one night, but I knew how risky that would be. Still, I couldn’t just stay here when I knew where she was. I needed to see her, to check on her, and make sure she was okay. Every slave knew how ruthless Cain was. I couldn’t let him keep his claws in her.

I decided it without really realizing it. Either way, it didn’t matter to me. I was going to go save Morgan. I didn’t care what happened to me.

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