Page 26 of Sold Wolf Slave

Pacing back and forth, I ran my fingers through my hair, unable to shake the image of Morgan serving Cain from my head. It seemed imprinted there, refusing to go away. I hadn’t been able to scry and check on her since then. With Will and his new friends asking questions and constantly being around the house, there hadn’t been a good chance yet.

I could have explained everything to Will, told him about Morgan, and how I wanted to get her out of there before it was too late. Except just the thought of doing that went against everything I had been taught since those guys had first grabbed me. You couldn’t trust slavers, and you couldn’t trust guys who dealt with them. Will seemed like a nice guy, but for all I knew, he was just trying to make me more docile and compliant. If that was the case and I ever opened up to him about Morgan, I’d be putting her in serious danger.

No, keeping her a secret was the best option until I knew more about what I was dealing with.

That didn’t stop me from needing to know how she was doing. My wolf had that same protective desire, and her own desire to check on Morgan only intensified my own. It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, one that I knew wouldn’t go away until she was next to me and we were both safe. But at least for the time being, I could soften the itch if I could just see her.

The door to the house slammed shut, dragging me from the swirling thoughts in my head. Will and the other two men were supposed to be going out for a while. If they had all gone, this might be my chance.

I slowed to a stop, letting the last creak of my footsteps fade to nothing as I pricked my ears and waited to hear any sign of life in the house.

Nothing.

I didn’t waste time, not knowing how long I would have. I unlocked the door to my room and poked my head out, listening once more for the telltale signs of other people. When none came, I scurried down the stairs to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards.

I grabbed a shallow bowl and filled it with water. I went over to the coffee table, placed the bowl down, and crouched before it. I waited until the sloshing water had slowed and stilled. My heart pounded in my throat as I waited, infuriatingly still, so I wouldn’t disrupt the water again. Once it had stilled, I pricked my finger, let the blood drip into the basin, and started the same ritual I had done the other night.

Morgan’s face rippled to life in the water before me. She looked healthy, at least. But I could tell by her surroundings, the grimy wall behind her, and the dim lighting that she was currently in a cell.

I let out a low growl of anger. I needed to get to her. Needed to save her. I couldn’t—

“What’s this, then?”

I gasped, shooting to my feet. My hand slammed against the bowl and clattered to the ground. Water went everywhere, splashing across my feet and pooling on the floor.

Will stood in the doorway. He stared at the bowl, then up at me. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought the three of you were going out.”

“I forgot something.” He took a step forward, folding his arms as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’ll ask again—what are you doing?”

I scrambled, trying to come up with some feasible answer that wasn’t flimsy as hell. Instead, all I could come up with was, “What? I can’t have a drink?”

“From a bowl?”

I glanced at the upturned bowl and the still-spreading water, the liquid covering more and more of the wooden floor. I glanced back at Will, who continued staring at me with that same intensity that seemed to electrify every inch of me. My mouth opened and closed as I tried to think of a way out of it.

“Kendra?” he asked. When I kept silent, he let out a growl. “For fuck’s sake, talk to me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Something about that set me off. “How the hell do I know you’ll help me in the first place?” I demanded. “You’re in this damned place just like all the other guys. You can say you’re different all you like, but all I see is another fucking asshole who came to score a girl or two.” I marched over and jabbed him inthe chest, only vaguely aware that I was doing it in the first place. “It’s because of guys like you who come here, who agree to fight in the pits or buy a slave regardless of their intentions, that this place is able to work in the first place. You might say that you’re here to help, but you were still more than happy to take me as your prize. You don’t care about tearing families apart or—”

The words stopped coming as they lodged and stuck in my throat, choking me as I tried to keep yelling. I reeled back, staggering as the tears started spilling down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. I started sobbing, and the tears wouldn’t stop. All the anxiety and emotion that had been plaguing me for days came out in a torrent.

Strong hands grabbed mine, wrapping around them. I couldn’t help it. Despite myself, I found myself leaning against him, taking comfort in his scent. I shouldn’t. I knew that. He was the enemy, the asshole who had won me in a fight and taken me even further from my sister.

And yet, I didn’t move. I didn’t push him away. I just leaned against him and continued crying, letting the tears continue to fall as I buried my face in his shirt. His arms wrapped around me, his hand stroking my hair in soothing motions, holding me as I continued to sob.

“It’s okay,” he muttered. “It’ll be okay.”

But he couldn’t know that. He didn’t know that. At that moment, nothing felt like it would ever be okay again.

He let me cry, simply stood there and helped me, not demanding anything and not interrupting. It was a simple act of kindness that any decent person would have done. But it had been so long since anyone had done anything remotely kind or empathetic for me that I couldn’t help but appreciate it. I stilldidn’t trust him, but I had to admit there was some modicum of decency somewhere in there.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Will stepped back, holding me at arm’s length as he looked me up and down. Something like a mix of sympathy and determination flickered across him as he regarded me.

“Kendra,” he said. Hearing my name on his lips sent a flutter through me despite myself. “Tell me what’s really going on here.”

I wanted to lie, but I knew that no lie I could come up with right now would convince him. And part of me, maybe my wolf, trusted him. Or at least wanted to trust him, enough that it seemed okay to tell him the truth. At least about this.

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