Page 66 of Cowboy Wolf's Kiss

The sky darkened as the last remnants of daylight slipped away like a distant memory.I missed it.The rodeo.The film festival.

My heart squeezed, and I wanted so desperately to cry out loud.But I didn’t dare.

Even though my surroundings were familiar, the mood around me was dark, sinister.

I glanced up, wondering if we were going to get snow before the holiday—an uninvited thought that both thrilled and terrified me.

The prospect of a white Thanksgiving when so many were just wet or too warm felt like a promise I so desperately wanted to cling to.

As I sat there, the cold seeped through my clothes, biting at my skin.The knot around my wrists was rough and unforgiving, chafing away at my skin.

My mind raced, grappling with the uncertainty of my situation.Kidnapped in broad daylight.Rendered unconscious.Brought here.But why and for what?

I mean, I knew it wasn’t for anything good.I also knew I didn’t want to end like this.I just had to make it out alive.

I strained my ears, hoping to catch the distant sounds of people or cars driving down the road.

Instead, I was met with an unsettling silence, punctuated only by the occasional snap of a twig or the rustling of unseen creatures in the underbrush.

I shivered, pulling my knees closer, desperate for warmth.As the first flurries of snow began to fall, I felt a mix of dread and longing.I could not give in to whimsy or despair, so I thought of Emmet and took stock of myself.

He deserved a mate who fought to come back to him.And I was going to do my best to be worthy of him.

First, I was alive, that was one good thing.

Second, I was tied up—okay, not so good.

Third, my head ached on both sides.On the right, where that sonovabitch had struck me with his fist, and on the left side where I hit the door and cut my eyebrow.

Head wounds always bled so much, and mine had gushed for a long while before it slowed.I could feel the dried sticky mess on the side of my face.

Fuck.This didn’t look good at all.

I felt dirty and bruised.I couldn’t even imagine what I looked like cut open, bloody, with nervous sweat and tears tracking through the dirt and muck on my skin.

Emmet.

My thoughts were on my mate, and I had never felt so scared and full of regret.

He would blame himself.I knew he would, and that just broke my heart.I tried to move, but the ropes were so tight.I winced at the soreness in my muscles and the pain in my head.

The man in charge—he said his name was Flint—had laughed when he saw my wound.He seemed to get off on hurting me and seeing me suffer, so I tried my best not to let my pain show.Not even when he dug his finger into the cut.

“That would leave a scar if you were gonna live long enough, but you ain’t, so I wouldn’t worry your fat ass over it,” he taunted, sucking air between his teeth and making my stomach sick.

The other three men with him snickered and chortled.They were thin, gritty looking, and they had a sour green aura surrounding them.

“Can we have her, Boss?”

“Yeah.Let us play with Emmet’s whore,” another said.

Fear trickled down my spine, making me gasp.

“No.That will ruin the fun.I want him to watch as we ruin his precious mate,” Flint growled.

Revulsion filled me as he shoved my face away, banging my head against the tree trunk, and I grunted at the pain throbbing behind my eyes.

“What are you waiting for?If you want to kill me, why not get to it?”I asked, so damn angry at this whole situation.

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