Page 98 of Howling
I’m not chained yet.
I refuse to admit defeat so easily.
Dropping into a fighting stance, I use the back of my hand to swipe away the blood dripping into my eye. I’m so focused on the threat in front of me, I don’t notice the floor creaking behind me until it’s too late. As I turn, the crack of a whip snaps in the room, and I feel the leather coil around my neck.
My hands instinctively reach for my throat, and I claw at the leather looped around my neck. A glance reveals Bellamy entering the room, and I relax slightly at knowing rescue is within reach. The mistake costs me, and I’m jerked off my feet by a hard yank of the whip. I land flat on my back, the air knocked from my lungs, and my throat feels crushed.
My vision darkens, and I reach toward Bellamy.
But instead of coming to my rescue, he crosses his arms and casually leans against the wall by the door. “If you kill her, you won’t get anything.”
I blink slowly, trying to process his words, and horror bleeds into my soul, his betrayal cutting deep.
“You’re not going to fight for your girl?” scar asks dubiously, neither of them seeming to care that I’m slowly suffocating.
“I’m Orion,” Bellamy states without inflection. “I came to collect her and return her to where she belongs.”
My heart shatters, and the world around me darkens as I flirt with unconsciousness. I’m no longer aware of my body, unable to feel anything but a wave of helplessness. Their voices are lowand rough, warped by the ringing in my ears, and I struggle to make sense of what they are saying.
The tight coils wrapped around my neck loosen, but my body is so far gone that I don’t even gasp for breath, the sound more of a wheeze as only a tiny trickle of air works its way past my damaged throat.
I’m lifted into strong arms, cradled against a broad chest, and the scent of frost crackles in my lungs—Bellamy.
His touch is gentle, and I shake off that betraying thought.
It’s probably just another figment of my imagination, like when I thought we were allies.
Something inside me dies as I’m carried from the room, and I surrender to the blessed oblivion of darkness. My chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself, like I lost something precious.
The last sound I hear is my wolf howling mournfully, and the rest of the world vanishes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DANTE
Ilinger in the kitchen…essentially the bottom of the stairs, so I can watch and wait for my kitten to return. The others aren’t much better as they pass through the room every two seconds with a sock or a bottle of water to add to our supply.
I was smart and immediately took charge of organizing our stock.
Of course since I never volunteer for anything, the men just assumed I was being my normal, asshole self.
Suckers.
I putter around the kitchen, humming under my breath as I search the cupboards for anything that I think my kitten might enjoy, giddy as a schoolboy waiting for his first crush. After a few minutes, boredom quickly takes over, then impatience when she doesn’t emerge.
I’m not even bothering to do anything as I cross my arms, lean against the counter, and wait for her to appear, freshly showered and smelling like heaven.
The longer I go without seeing her, the more on edge I become.
When I spot Bellamy sulking around upstairs, I narrow my eyes and stealthily follow, careful to pull back my scent. Though he might have fought with us, I don’t trust the fucker. I can’t dismiss the fear that he will disappear with my kitten if given the chance—not happening, not on my fucking watch.
My abilities as a skinwalker come in handy when skulking in the shadows. While my scent doesn’t change completely, I can suppress it better than most. I call upon my feline identity, and my skin darkens, whirls of black forming as my jaguar emerges.
More and more of my senses sharpen, and I’m furious to realize that I can’t sense my kitten.
It’s like she’s completely vanished—no, not vanished.
It’s like she never existed.
