Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

K endra

The rough hands that grabbed me forced a blindfold over my eyes, cutting off the world in an instant. Panic surged through me as darkness swallowed everything, leaving me disoriented and breathless. I struggled, my wrists raw from their hold, but it was no use. The Resistance had me, and Rowan was too far gone to help.

I couldn’t see anything—just the overwhelming blackness that stretched in all directions—but the rest of my senses flared to life, desperately trying to make up for the loss of sight. I could hear everything: the shuffle of boots on the forest floor, the crunch of dry leaves beneath my captors’ feet, and the distant murmur of birds in the trees, like the world had carried on without caring that I was being dragged into the unknown.

Several hours had passed and I could tell that the sun was high overhead—I could feel its warmth on my skin, the way it filtered through the canopy of leaves above, casting patches of heat on my face as they pulled me forward. The air smelled damp, earthy, and alive, a mixture of pine and loamy soil. I could sense the vastness of the forest surrounding me, the closeness of the trees, their rough bark brushing against my arms as we moved deeper into the unknown.

My heart pounded in my chest, every beat a reminder that I had no idea where they were taking me and Rowan or what they were planning to do with us. I could hear the occasional grunt from one of the Resistance members as they dragged his unconscious body along, his heavy breathing the only sign that he was still alive. I wanted to call out to him, to reach out and let him know I was here, that we would get through this. But the fear knotted in my throat, choking me into silence.

The forest sounds, birds, the rustling of wind in the branches, were soon joined by something else. A distant hum, low but steady, like the faint murmur of machines or generators. It grew louder the further they dragged me, and I could feel the change in the air—less wild, less open. I couldn’t tell where we were going, but I knew we were leaving the safety of the woods behind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of stumbling over roots and rocks, the hands gripping me tightened, pulling me to a halt. I heard muttered orders passed between the Resistance members, their voices clipped. My heart raced, and for a moment, the world was so still I could hear my own shallow breathing.

Then, with a rough tug, the blindfold was yanked from my face.

The sudden flood of light blinded me for a moment, and I blinked rapidly, my eyes adjusting to the scene before me. When my vision cleared, I took in the sight of a small, rundown suburban town nestled in the middle of the forest. The buildings were worn, their paint peeling and windows cracked, but they were still standing, and somehow still functional.

It was like something straight out of the history books.

The houses were close together, their yards overgrown with weeds and grass, though some had been tended to, patches of vegetables growing in what had once been front lawns. There were children, barefoot and dirty, running down the cracked sidewalks, their laughter faint but real. Adults moved through the town, some carrying baskets of supplies, others repairing fences or tending to livestock that wandered through makeshift pens.

But even as I took in the town, a chill ran through me. This wasn’t just some peaceful, hidden community. This was the Resistance. I could see it in the way they moved, in the weapons strapped to their belts, the wary, calculating way they looked at Rowan’s unconscious form as they dragged him across the street. These weren’t just survivors—they were soldiers.

“Welcome to your new home,” one of the men beside me said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He gave me a rough shove, sending me stumbling forward.

I caught myself before I fell, my eyes still darting between the worn-down houses and the people who stopped to stare at us, their eyes cold and suspicious. I felt a prickle of unease as I noticed the way they looked at Rowan, and then the way they looked at me.

They didn’t trust us, and I doubted they ever would.

They dragged Rowan’s limp body toward a large, dilapidated warehouse on the edge of the town, its rusted metal siding and broken windows giving it an ominous appearance. I struggled against the hands holding me, my heart pounding in my chest as they pulled Rowan away from me, his unconscious body dragging through the dirt.

“Where are you taking him?” I demanded, my voice breaking with desperation. “He’s not a threat—please, just let me stay with him!”

The man beside me sneered. “You’ll see him soon enough,” he muttered darkly. “Once we’ve decided what to do with both of you.”

My heart twisted, panic rising in my throat as I watched Rowan disappear into the warehouse, the heavy metal doors slamming shut behind him with a loud, echoing clang. I had no idea what they planned to do with him, but I knew one thing for sure: these people hated wolves. And whatever they had in mind, it wasn’t good.

Before I could even catch my breath, the hands gripping me yanked me forward again, forcing me away from the warehouse and toward a rundown house nearby. The building was smaller, more intact than some of the others in the town, but it was clear it had seen better days. The windows were boarded up, and the front door hung crooked on its hinges.

They pushed me inside, the door creaking as it swung shut behind me, sealing me inside. The room was sparse, with only a few worn pieces of furniture scattered around. A small table, an old couch, a few broken chairs. It wasn’t a prison cell, but it might as well have been. The door was locked from the outside, and I had no way of knowing what they were doing to Rowan.

My stomach churned with anxiety as I slumped onto the couch, my mind racing. What were they going to do to him? What would happen to us now?

One thing was certain.

I was going to have to figure something out.

A few hours passed, though it felt like an eternity. I paced the small room, my mind a tangled mess of fear and frustration. The boarded-up windows blocked out any view of the town, and all I could do was replay the last few hours in my mind—Rowan being dragged away, the cold, suspicious glares of the Resistance members, and the gnawing uncertainty about what was happening to him.

I hadn’t heard anything since they locked me in here, no sounds of footsteps or voices outside the door. The quiet only deepened my anxiety, making every minute feel like it stretched on forever.

Just as I was starting to think I wouldn’t get any answers, the door creaked open.

A woman stepped into the room, tall and imposing, her dark hair pulled back into a tight braid. She wore a leather jacket, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular arms and an array of tattoos. Her presence was commanding, her confident gaze immediately scanning the room before they landed on me. I could tell instantly that she was in charge.

“Captain Sorin,” one of the guards said from behind her, standing at attention as she entered.

She waved the guard away, shutting the door behind her with a quiet thud. The room felt suddenly smaller with just the two of us inside. Sorin’s cold, calculating gaze settled on me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice smooth, but with a sharpness that made it clear she wasn’t here for pleasantries.

“Kendra.”

She crossed the room slowly, her boots scuffing the worn floor as she came closer.

“Tell me, Kendra,” she said, her tone almost conversational, though there was nothing casual about the way she watched me. “How did you end up with a wolf?”

I swallowed, unsure how much to say. “Rowan—he’s not what you think. He’s?—”

“A wolf,” Sorin interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “He’s dangerous. We’ve seen it before, over and over again. Wolves take humans. They control them. They keep them as prisoners.” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes flicking over me like she was trying to figure something out. “That’s what happened to you, isn’t it? He captured you and wouldn’t let you go.”

The assumption hit me like a punch to the gut. She thought I was Rowan’s prisoner? My mind raced, and I struggled to find the words.

“No,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “It wasn’t like that. Rowan—he saved me. We were traveling together.”

Sorin raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Saved you?” she echoed, her voice dripping with skepticism. “That’s what you think? Or what he made you think?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she didn’t give me the chance.

“I’ve seen it before,” she continued, pacing slowly in front of me now, her voice growing colder with each word. “Wolves taking humans, keeping them close, convincing them that they need each other. It’s a twisted form of control, Kendra. They make you think you’re safe with them, that you’re protected, but really, you’re just trapped. A pawn in their games.”

I shook my head again, my pulse racing. “That’s not what this is. Rowan… he cares about me. He’s not using me.”

Sorin stopped in front of me, her expression hardening. “How long were you with him?”

I hesitated. “A few days.”

“And in those few days, you became convinced he’s different?” Sorin asked, a cold smile tugging at her lips. “That’s how good they are at manipulating you. He didn’t have to keep you locked up, didn’t have to tie you down. But he made you believe you couldn’t leave him, didn’t he?”

I felt a flare of anger at her words. She had no idea what Rowan and I had been through, no idea how much he had risked to keep me safe. But I could see it in her eyes—the utter certainty that I was just another human caught in a wolf’s web. She wouldn’t believe anything I said.

“Look,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm, even though I could feel the panic rising inside me. “I’m not his prisoner. I stayed with him because I wanted to. He protected me when no one else could.”

Sorin’s eyes flickered, but her expression remained cold. She stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Whether you realize it or not, you’re still under his influence. Wolves don’t protect humans out of kindness, Kendra. They always have an agenda. And I don’t intend to let you go until we figure out what his is.”

My heart sank. There was no convincing her. She’d made up her mind.

Sorin studied me for a long moment, and then finally, she sighed. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’ll keep you here, under close watch. You’ll be allowed out of this house, but you’ll be monitored closely. If you step out of line or try to contact him”—her voice hardened—“we’ll assume you’re a spy too.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. It was clear Sorin wasn’t going to let me leave until she was sure I wasn’t a threat—or until she dealt with Rowan, whatever that meant.

Sorin stepped toward the door, her hand on the knob as she gave me one last glance.

“You’re lucky, Kendra,” she said coldly. “If we’d found you with any other wolf, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

And with that, she turned and walked out, the door shutting behind her with a final, ominous thud.

What did that even mean?

“ Any other wolf …”

All I knew was that I had to find a way to reach him before it was too late.