Page 10 of Wolf Bound

Ms. Hartfield preens under his attention, a huge smile on her face as she gazes at Arthur like he hung the moon, or whatever that stupid phrase is. “It’s a shame really,” she says, stepping up to the bar and staring at Penn. “If this one didn’t work, I was going to keep that one for myself.”

Everything in me revolts at her words, my peryton throwing herself violently against the edges of my mind, begging to come out and fight her. First they attack us with that awful fucking sound, now they’re going to make veiled threats? Not fucking today.

“Fuck you,” I curse on a shaky breath, pushing myself up onto shaky legs far sooner than I’m ready for. “I’ll kill you.”

My magic pulls back into me, giving me the first hint that Penn is okay. A soft tap to the back of my ankle tells me he’s awake and waiting for a prime chance to make our captors aware.

“You’ve gotten feisty, Talia. It’s a shame really, I much preferred the demure, shy version of you. It was so much more like your mother,” Arthur says so casually it sets my teeth on edge. With the amount of emotion he’s using, he could be discussing the weather. “Your father was where you got this attitude from. Make sure we don’t have to put you down like we did him. The blood was hard to get out of the furniture.”

My fists clench at my side as I fight with every fibre of my being not to fall for the bait. It’s not the first time he’s used my parents’ deaths against me, and if I don’t find a way to get us out of here, it won’t be the last.

Arthur steps into the cell, the woman close on his heels. They both carry shackles in their hands, the set in Arthur’s hands I know far too intimately. It’s that moment that Penn jumps offthe ground, his body healed as if nothing happened thanks to my healing magic.

Arthur is more prepared than either of us gave him credit for, unfortunately. He quickly pulls a syringe out from behind his back, stabbing it into Penn’s neck before I can even breathe. A feral scream leaves my mouth, the pent up pain and anguish of twenty four years in this hellhole coming out as I lunge at the woman, determined to take her out so that when I get to Arthur, it’s just the two of us.

Ms. Hartfield is less prepared, her eyes wide with fear as I throw myself onto her, clawing at her face and pushing her back into the bars of the cell. She falls, the sound of her head cracking against the metal rings out through the cells. Her body goes limp, the smell of blood permeating the already stale air.

Spinning around, I settle my gaze on the man that’s made my life hell. Penn’s body is slumped on the ground, the shackles laying discarded beside him.

“You don’t want to attack me, Talia,” Arthur admonishes, his hands up in a placating way. Too bad for him, he’s still holding the syringe he used against my mate. “You’re only going to make things more difficult for yourself. We know all about you and what to do to make you obey us. One more step, and I’ll have this pathetic wolf killed right before your eyes.”

Looking Arthur dead in the eyes, I let a slow smile pull up the corners of my mouth. “Tsk, tsk, Arthur. That was the wrong fucking thing to say.”

My body is moving before the words even finish coming out of my mouth. The only thing on my mind is death. Arthur Beaumont is the scum of the earth and I’m going to enjoy watching the life leave his eyes.

“I don’t think it was,” he whispers, a gleam in his eyes as the cold steel of a knife hits me in the back, pain and the numb feeling of nightshade poison radiating from the wound. Fallingforward, I’m caught by the psychopath himself, a self-satisfied grin lighting up his disgusting, old face. “Goodnight, Talia. When you wake up, that’s when the real fun begins.”

The world around me goes dark as the wail of my peryton fills my mind. We failed not only ourselves this time, but our mate, too. This is why I told Penn I can’t be his mate. My whole life I've just been here, waiting while enduring unending torture. I'm not sure I can be the mate he deserves, one that's strong and powerful, but I know I won't give up trying.

I will not allow us to die here.

Chapter Six

Forrester

Following Wes through the woods of this backwater town, the human part of me cringes at the fact that I’m back where I said I never would be again. The wolf part of me is howling in excitement and anger. He’s excited to be back with his pack, the lone wolf lifestyle was as hard on him as it was freeing for me. We’re both in agreement on the anger though. Someone fucked with Penn, the only shifter I care about anymore, and they’re going to fucking pay for that.

Wes’ deep reddish brown wolf form stops suddenly, his body stills as his nose sniffs the air around us. Skidding to a stop just to the left of him, I lift my own white muzzle into the air, trying to find what caught his attention.

Wes is by far the best tracker in Forntida pack. His nose is unparalleled when it comes to scenting things that don’t even register on a normal wolf’s radar. Add in the fact that he can sense impressions left behind by moments in time, and I’m convinced that there’s nothing this guy can’t find.

Tracking is Wes’ forte, while hunting is mine. All wolves born from the original Forntida bloodlines carry a special gift, one based purely in magic. It heightens one of our senses, allowing us to see beyond what other wolf shifters can see.

For Wes, it’s impressions, for Penn, it’s the future. Drayton and I share a bloodline through our father, which means our gifts are similar to each other’s. Drayton can sense emotions in everyone, he can see what they feel and what they are struggling with. I can see emotions to a point as well, but mine centres around what makes you weak. It’s like a sixth sense for finding what cuts someone the deepest. It means Drayton’s gift is meant for leading the pack, while mine leaves me in the shadows to protect.

Wes’ form suddenly changes beside me, the wolf receding and the man moving into his place. Following his lead, I shift back, stretching my arms over my head and looking around the forest.

“Did you smell that?” Wes asks, his body language excited while his eyes are searching. “I caught the scent of one of the people that were back at the scene. They’ve been through here recently.”

“What?” I turn to fully look at him, his hands already pushing into the dirt to find the more hidden impressions. “I thought we were following a fucking algae smell. You’re telling me that by following some stupid sea smell, we stumbled right into the people that took Penn?”

“Not exactly,” Wes murmurs, bringing the dirt up to his nose and breathing in deeply. A smile lights up his face, the thrillof tracking always makes him look younger. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Then explain,” I snap, already on edge from Penn disappearing and having to be back with this fucking pack.

Wes looks up at me, his long dark hair falling back and revealing his full look of annoyance that he’s thrown my way a million times before.

“The people that took Penn covered up their scents to the point that even I couldn’t pull them out anymore when they hit the tree line. That in and of itself is a huge feat for someone to do,” Wes explains, standing up and looking up at the trees as he does. “They were desperate to cover their tracks, which isn’t unusual. What is unusual is that they covered them up to the degree that they did. It tells me that they had insider information about my talent with scent.”

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