3. MIA

Chapter 3

MIA

~ An Hour Earlier ~

Panting in wolf form is pathetic. But I’ve never done this before. The pain that slices through my side is faint, but still evident enough to cause panic.

The werewolves of Blackclaw watch me from the top of the cliff. Waiting. Lord knows what they’re waiting for. With suspicious beady wolf eyes, they glare at me where I’ve fallen.

Struggling with paws that are at least three times the size of human feet, I’m finally able to stand.

That’s when Darren, the Blackclaw Beta, begins the descent of the cliff. With calculated steps, he climbs down as he watches me with suspiciously narrowed eyes.

Each step of his fills my gut with churning dread. A feeling of impending danger that threatens abuse. Torture, at their hands.

That’s when I realize that they have no idea who I am. They’ve never seen my wolf before.

Neither have I. I don’t have a clue what I look like. Only what I feel in wolf form. Awkward. Terse. A rollercoaster of emotions I’ve never experienced before.

Right now, it’s fear that dominates my being.

Pressing my eyelids closed, I attempt to use the mind link. Something I’ve only ever heard of before.

The Blackclaw wolves use the mind link shared with other members of the pack to communicate while in wolf form. They’d often brag about it in my presence.

Because they knew that I had never experienced it before.

‘It’s me, Mia,’ my inner voice echoes in my mind. When I open my eyes, I’m surprised to find that the other wolves have begun following Darren down the cliff.

I close my eyes as panic rises like bile in my wolf throat. ‘Please, Blackclaw wolves. I’m Mia.’

Opening my eyes again, I’m only met with the critically suspicious growls of the Blackclaw wolves.

Not only do they not recognize me. They also can’t hear the mind link I’m trying to send.

The panic in my chest coils until it’s unbearable to stay stagnant. My flight or fight response kicks in, the former winning the tug-of-war. Spinning on my hind legs, I glance over my shoulder.

Just as I suspected, the Blackclaw wolves believe I’m a threat. As their steps quicken. I look out ahead of me and start running.

Behind me, the ground shakes as Blackclaw gives chase. All I can do is run, focusing on the ground ahead of me so that I don’t stumble and fall again.

Everything around me flashes past in a haze of brilliant colors. Greens and browns, occasional pastel pinks, and lavenders. I don’t have time to stop and cherish the gift of the wolf I’d just received.

The snarly howl that rings out from behind echoes through the forest. It fills my eardrums with the menace behind the howl, propelling me forward.

I near the Blackclaw border, the wolves hot on my heels. There’s no way I can stand up to six trained wolves. I have no choice but to cross the Blackclaw border, into uncharted territory.

Not looking back, I keep running. Further southwest, using the river as my only guide. At least if I use the Missouri River as my breadcrumbs, I can trace my way back to Rocheport.

The further along I go, the quieter my surroundings become. When the only thing I hear is the hooting of an owl, I slow down. The silence of the forest is eerie and I can’t help thinking that they’re still hunting me.

I slow my pace keeping a wearie eye behind me in case I need to run again. They must have given up when I crossed the border. An imaginary line, where none of the Blackclaw wolves are allowed to cross in their wolf forms.

I’m able to breathe again. Though it’s in wolf form, I relish the coolness of the brisk air as it fills my lungs.

Still panting, my knees quiver under my weight. Threatening to buckle. Haphazardly making my way toward the river, I fall onto my belly.

The relief of water on my tongue is immense. Cool and calming, I lap at the river water, basking in the comfort it provides. I’m so deep into the relaxation I feel, that I’m only alerted when I hear the sound of a twig cracking.

Looking up with wide eyes, I’m shocked to find a wolf across the river. With jet-black fur, he stands imposingly and stares at me intently.

Something about the majestic black wolf is intriguing enough to instill fear in me. That fear courses down my spine, prompting me to respond to my defense. He snarls with intimidating power.

His dark eyes narrow and it’s more imposing than the glares of Blackclaw. Without a thought, I try to get to my feet. But my weak knees buckle under my weight and send me tumbling into the flowing river.

The current isn’t fierce, but I’m panicking. I haven’t swam in wolf form before. And it feels impossible with my thicker arms and paws for hands. Fighting for air, I’m startled when I feel teeth clamp onto my neck.

Suddenly, I’m pulled out of the water. Landing in a pile against a warm body of sleek fur drenched by the river water. When I open my eyelids, I meet his penetrating glare. Another trickle of fear flows through my wolf body.

I scramble to my paws, the wolf in front of me demanding my respect. Perhaps it's his aura of strength and purpose. I bow my head, eyes focusing on a stone so he knows I mean no threat.

“Who are you?” a domineering voice commands, prompting me to lift my head.

Surprised by the huskiness and pure command in that voice, I’m even more shocked when I look up. Gone is the werewolf, and in its place is a man.

One that takes my breath away when my eyes land on him. Standing there stark naked, his tanned, honey-golden skin is illuminated by the moon’s glow.

Mentally licking my lips, my eyes travel the length of him – probably six feet tall. His broad, muscular shoulders taper into rock-hard abs that contour his torso, running down into a v-line.

A line that dictates the path to the manhood between his thick thighs.

I gulp, hard. The first stirrings of arousal I’ve ever felt in my life overwhelm me while in wolf form. Frightfully looking into his face, all I see is his eyes glinting in the night.

“I asked you a question,” he speaks firmly, taking a step forward. My initial instinct is to back away.

Or so I thought.

Something about his mere presence demands that I stay rooted to the spot. Unmoving. Just marveling at his fine form.

“Shift and answer me,” he orders gutturally.

To my sudden horror, I realize I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to shift on command. The emergence of my wolf tonight was so sudden and unannounced, it’s not like I’d invoked it on my own.

All I can do is stare at the werewolf in his human form, praying he sees the fear in my eyes. Hopefully, he’d have some kind of understanding.

But my hope is lost when he takes a step forward and his face comes into view.

“Shift,” he demands again, this time reproachfully. Sharp, bladed dark brows furrow over emerald gems that seem to glint under the moonlight. Plump, cherry-red lips furl as he growls.

The sound reverberates in my eardrums just as my airways are filled with a floral scent. The intoxication to my senses is too much all at once. My eyelids become heavy, and my surroundings fade to black.

I'm running as fast as I can in wolf form. But the ground beneath my feet sinks. I lose my footing and fall. Tumbling down, narrowly missing boulders and trees on my way down.

I fall faster than I'm capable of running. So fast, my head begins to spin. It whirls my surroundings into a vortex of flashing images, vivid colors slicing through.

I'm jolted into reality by the fall that doesn't end. Heaving for the air that seems lost to my lungs, my eyelids fly open.

I had only been dreaming.

How much of the past few hours was real, I'm not sure.

Not until I turn my face and see the man staring at me.

Metal bars separate the space between us, but his intense gaze comes through. Mesmerized by the impact of those green depths, it's like I'm called to hold his gaze.

Commanded to do so, with no other choice.

He's clothed now in a white coat that pulls taut against his arm muscles. A perfectly defined man whose mere presence elicits heat between my thighs.

Gasping when his eyes flit to the rest of my body, I'm made aware of one tiny detail.

I don't have any clothes on.

My hands fly to my breasts in an attempt to remain decent. The man chuckles snidely before turning and disappearing into the shadows.

It gives me time to get familiar with my surroundings. I'm in a metal-barred cell only large enough for a mattress on the floor. That's where I'd been curled up, probably since I fainted in the woods.

My relief is limited to the fact that I'm in human form again. Instinctively lifting a hand to my face, I sigh with that relief when I can feel my familiar features.

Thank Goddess!

Of course,I am not relieved about the sound of imposing footsteps just outside the cell. I can't see much thanks to the dim lighting of my surroundings. It’s enough just to see that I'm in a dungeon made of stone.

The footsteps grow closer, and I'm wary when I see a pair of sneakers in front of me. Too ashamed to look up, the man pushes a set of clothes through the bars.

“Get dressed,” he instructs me.

Doing as I'm told, I grab the white cotton clothes from him. Luckily for me, he turns his back to me, allowing me to dress in privacy.

I feel embarrassed as I slip the clothes on. Why didn't he dress me, instead of leaving me naked in this cage?

“You shifted in your sleep,” he says as if in reply to the question in my mind. “I brought you here after you passed out in the woods.”

“Thanks.” I clear my throat to indicate that I'm done dressing. That's when the man turns around to face me.

“Why didn't you shift when I asked you to?” His brows knit to a frown as he stares into my face. This time, his question doesn't come imposingly. It's gentle and more curious than demanding.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I push my hands under my thighs. I have to tear my gaze from the man, my pounding heart threatening to soar out of my chest.

I've never felt so attracted to a man. So carnally drawn to him, that I imagine tearing through metal to fling myself forward. I have to physically shake off those thoughts when I reply, “I–I don't know how to.”

My honesty earns me a disparaging grunt, prompting me to look up.

“You expect me to believe that?” he snorts. “Tell me the real reason why you didn't shift.”

His calm composure is the only reason I don't burst into tears. It radiates off him, filling the air with a sense of calmness. It's why I repeat that I don't know how to shift on command.

A frown flits past his face before he huffs.

“Fine,” he sniffs. “I'll have to command the truth from you, then.”

He presses his eyelids shut for a second, taking a deep breath. “I am Theo Marrock, Alpha of The Nightwalker Pack. I command you to answer my question truthfully.”

It's no wonder his presence had been imposing. Even now, his command must be heeded.

I do so by getting to my feet.

“I tell no word of a lie, Alpha,” I admit again. His eyes meet mine, and I see a flash of remorse in them. At least he believes me now.

“Who are you?” he asks with a deep frown.

“I am Mia Alverez, Omega of the Blackclaw Pack.”

As I give my name and the name of my pack, the color seeps from the Alpha's face.

“Blackclaw?” he grates through gritted teeth as his eyes narrow at me.

The fear that courses down my spine is enough to send me stepping back. In front of me, the Alpha of Nightwalker appears to be losing his temper.

And I'm on the frontline.