Page 70 of Alpha Wolf's Nanny
“You, sweetheart. All of this is for you. You should be pleased. Money was a nice incentive at first. But let’s be honest, this ain’t about that anymore. You made us look stupid. Ran off like we’re amateurs. Nice to know you take after your dear old dad.”
Her breath caught in her throat. So they knew about her father.
The man tossed the knife, flipping it in a menacing arc through the air, before catching it expertly by the handle. “Don’t you worry about pops, sweetheart. We caught up with him a year and a half ago. And boy, did he squeal like a piggy.”
Cassie gasped, a ragged, wet sound, as something inside her that she didn’t even know was still there broke. She hated her father. Hated him ever since he left. But to know he’d been hunted like her, tracked down and butchered…
Bile rose in her throat, and she fought to keep the contents of her stomach down.
The man stepped closer, and Cassie could see the yellowing bruises on his knuckles. She recoiled as much as the chains allowed.
“So, here’s the thing, we’re gonna have to make an example out of you. A very public, very messy example. Word gets around fast in certain circles.”
Rick growled again, slamming his body against the cage. The metal groaned. Cassie looked at him, desperate for any sense of recognition, of humanity, but there was nothing. Only the beast. Whatever drug they had given him, it was powerful.
The man glanced back at him, sneering, “That one’s going to fetch us a nice little fortune. Once we sedate him properly, of course. Nasty things, shifters. Can’t have him tearing our heads off before the sale. Very nice of you to lead us to Timberrdige, by the way. We might get quite the supply chain going.”
“Sell him?” Cassie choked. “He’s not a thing. He’s a person!”
He crouched so they were eye-level. “No, sweetheart. He’s a monster. Just like you. Just like all of you little freaks hiding out in your cozy forest towns. People don’t want peace with your kind. They want proof that monsters bleed, too.”
He stood and turned to leave. “Back in a tick. Gotta prep the goods for shipment.”
He laughed as he walked off, the sound echoing through the room.
For several long minutes, the silence was deafening.
Oh God. Oh God. They knew about the pack. About the boys. She had let them go straight to Silvermist. And now…they were going to attack. And it was all her fault.
Cassie sat frozen in the chair, trying to breathe through the panic pressing down on her chest like a vice. Her ears rang with the echo of that mocking laugh, each cruel syllable scraping down her spine. She was shaking so hard now that the chains rattled with every breath, the cold bite of metal a constant reminder that she was trapped, helpless, and utterly alone.
Rick’s growls quieted for a heartbeat, but then resumed, low and guttural, the sound of something suffering, something barely tethered to the world. She looked at him and felt a fresh wave of despair wash over her. He was a monster in a cage. But he was her monster. And he was all she had.
Tears stung her eyes. Cassie closed them, clenched her jaw, and willed herself not to cry. Not now. But the weight of it, of what they wanted to do to her, of how close she was to breaking, of the looming threat to Silvermist and the boys, was too much.
A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“No,” she whispered aloud, angry at herself. “No, no, no.”
With a burst of frantic energy, she twisted her torso hard enough that the chair creaked beneath her. She did it again, and again, ignoring the way her shoulders screamed in protest. The third time, the old wood cracked. On the fourth, the back leg gave way with a splintering crunch.
Cassie toppled sideways and hit the ground with a grunt. Pain exploded in her shoulder, but she didn’t care. She was out of the chair, or at least what was left of it.
But the chains were still there.
The cuffs around her wrists and ankles held fast. She could barely move more than a foot in any direction. Her limbs were scraped and raw from the tumble, and now she lay half-curled on the concrete floor, the broken remnants of the chair still tangled around her.
She tried to sit up but couldn’t quite manage it with the way her arms were still fastened down. Tears threatened again, hot and helpless.
“That’s it, then,” she whispered bitterly. “That’s all I’ve got.”
She slumped back against the floor, defeated, her heart hammering in her chest. Rick snarled and paced, hurling his weight at the bars again, and the sound reverberated through her bones.
No. No, she had to keep a clear head. Had to keep her wits about her. She couldn’t afford to break down. Not now. Not when the boys were depending on her. Not when Rick, feral and frantic, was their only hope of getting out of this place alive.
She glanced toward the cage. Rick was still pacing, claws clattering on the concrete, his snarls raw and constant. His body slammed against the bars with enough force to make them rattle, but the locks held firm.
“Rick,” she tried again, louder this time. Her voice cracked. “Rick, please. I need you to focus. You have to come back to yourself. Just for a second.”
