Chapter Nine

Waking up in an unfamiliar bedroom had terrified the hell out of Alister. Finding himself naked, even worse. He had to have shifted when that asshole knocked him out. He could only hope that was the reason. Luckily, after searching the room, he'd found a closet filled with high-end clothing that fit him perfectly.

At least the scumbag had excellent taste in fashion.

Too bad he didn't have excellent taste in morals.

Once dressed, Alister had felt a little less frantic, though he lacked shoes. At least now he could face his perverted captor without his dangly bits exposed.

But it had been hours since he'd woken up. Now Alister paced the room, wishing he could open the thick glass windows. But even if he could, he was too high up to climb out without falling to his death. And with the windows facing the ocean, no one would see him if he tried to signal for help.

When he'd first woken up in this room, Alister had tried numerous times to break down the sturdy oak door with his shifter strength, but all he had to show for his efforts was an aching arm.

Hoping the bedroom door had magically unlocked since the last time he'd checked it, Alister turned the knob, but the damn thing was still stubbornly locked.

Alister flopped down onto the plush bed and thought about Paris, of the excitement and anxiety in Sam's eyes concerning the cookout that was now two days away.

Of Wyatt.

Last night, Alister had been consumed with so much pain and fury as he'd watched his mate suffer so brutally at the hands of the hellhound.

It seemed impossible, but what if Wyatt hadn't died? Could he have healed from so much blood loss? Alister had to cling to that glimmer of hope, needed to cling to the desperate belief that he hadn't lost his mate. Without that belief, there was nothing left for him to live for.

Alister pushed from the bed and began pacing again. He had to find a way to escape. If he didn't…

At the sound of a key turning in the lock, Alister froze. The door opened and a woman entered, carrying a tray of food.

Without hesitation, Alister shoved past her and raced into a hallway. He could go left or right. Alister chose left and took off, quickly realizing he was in a luxurious apartment with multiple floors. Through a sheer glass wall, he could see for miles.

How high up was he exactly?

As he ran down the flight of stairs, gripping onto the chrome railing for balance, Alister caught glimpses of a stylish living room on his right and another hallway on his left. He bolted left, then tried to stop when two beefy men emerged on other end, but his feet slipped on the marble floor and he fell hard on his ass.

The scent of wolf shifters hit him immediately.

"We're going to need you to go back upstairs," the guy on the right said. He folded his arms, making his biceps larger as he stared at Alister like he was a wayward child.

Not without a fight. Alister flipped over and shoved to his feet, racing toward the living room. When he entered, he realized there was only one way to escape.

The balcony door.

Alister sprinted across the room and out the door to find himself on a fifty-foot-long narrow terrace. The world tilted around him, blurring into a disorienting mindfuck. His head spun as he frantically reached for the railing, terrified he would fall over it and plummet to his death.

Alister's heart raced so fast it threatened to explode.

"You're seventy-five floors up." The color drained from the guard's face as he white-knuckled the doorframe. "Why don't you come back inside so we can both breathe easier?"

"Come back inside for what?" Alister was gonna throw up if everything didn't stop spinning. "So I can be subjected to your boss's perverted whims? Go to hell."

He swayed sideways, his grip on the railing slipping as he leaned too far over. The guard lunged forward and grabbed Alister's shirt. With a forceful yank, he slung Alister back inside where he crashed to the floor.

Never do anything that mind-boggling stupid again.

"Jimmy is terrified of the balcony. He isn't too happy you forced him go out there."

Alister looked up and gasped, shocked the fashion designer he admired stood in front of him. Solomon Tarne was Mr. Mysterious? It was hard to believe the brilliant designer was the sicko who'd bought him.

Most of Alister's clothing was purchased at Tarne.

"Go take a moment for yourself, Jimmy," Solomon said. "I don't want you getting sick on my pristine floor."

Alister scrambled backward until the wall stopped him, unable to process the terrifying reality before him. Solomon had always seemed like nice and somewhat shy man in all the online videos Alister had watched. Although the guy wasn't attractive, he possessed immense talent.

"I must say, I do love a good public spectacle. That video of your little brawl was quite entertaining, and it made finding you so much easier."

Alister's heart sank as he thought back to the fight behind the ice cream hut. He remembered seeing people recording it, but never once did he think it would lead to Mr. Mysterious finding him.

Solomon crouched in front of Alister, causing his skin to crawl with disgust as the creep gripped his chin and inspected him like a piece of meat. "You truly are an exquisite young man. You did me quite the favor by running from that auction. It made it easy for me to buy you without any competition." His lecherous green eyes swept over Alister. "I can't wait to have you bound and at my mercy, listening to you scream with pleasure while I indulge in your beauty."

Alister glared defiantly as he jerked his chin free.

Solomon sneered, causing his oblong chin to jut out and his wide nostrils to flare. "You will learn to enjoy my touch, even if I have to resort to extreme measures to break your spirit."

"Old geezers aren't my thing," Alister scoffed in disgust. "Especially men who use their wealth for despicable purposes."

"I'm going to enjoy using that smart mouth of yours." Solomon rose to his feet. "When I come back from my meeting, we'll see how long you can hold on to your rebellious attitude." His smile was chilling. "I relish the thought of breaking you, Alister."

If the guards weren't there, Alister would have wipe that smug look off Solomon's face. Instead, he remained quiet.

"Take him back upstairs," Solomon snarled at the other guard. "Ensure he stays where he goddamn belongs!"

Alister struggled and thrashed as he was dragged back upstairs, locked in the room he'd escaped from.

"Fuck all you sons of bitches!" Alister shouted. "If anyone steps foot in this room, I'll rip out their heart!"

Despite his anger and threat, Alister collapsed to the floor in tears. No one was going so save him. Even if Wyatt miraculously survived, he wouldn't know where to find Alister.

Solomon had won, and once again, Alister was at the mercy of someone else. Only this time it wasn't his parents. This time, it was someone who was about to turn his life into a living nightmare.

Determined not to go down without a fight, Alister stood up and removed his clothes, returning them to where he'd found them. Then he shifted and crawled under the dresser, curling into a corner.

When Solomon returned, Alister was ending that monster once and for all. Because his heart, body, and soul only belonged to Wyatt.