Chapter 13

Chapter

Thirteen

HEL

I wake to sunlight pouring into the bedroom, and for a moment, I'm wrapped in a contentment so foreign it takes me a moment to recognize it. Not the shallow kind of happiness I used to fake back home, but when I was younger and my brother, Ragnar, lived at home.

No, this feels… deeper. Real.

Then the word mate floats through my mind, and everything rushes back from last night.

My fingers find their way to my neck, to the spot where Ghost's teeth broke skin. The mark thrums like a heartbeat under my touch. The heat that used to feel like it was strangling me now purrs through my veins like warm honey.

"Well, this is new." I turn onto my back and find that the other side of the bed is cold, Ghost-less, and I'm annoyed at how disappointed that makes me feel. Judging by the sunlight streaming through the windows, I've slept most of the morning.

I roll onto his side of the bed, and his scent surrounds me—pine needles, rain-soaked earth, wolf, and cocoa. His smell is filled with pheromones… of his seed, something so distinctly him it makes my wolf practically dance under my skin. "This is so not fair," I grumble, even as I bury my face in his pillow. My body feels as if it's been rewired to respond to him.

My arousal lingers. I snuggle deeper into the blankets, creating a nest of warmth that smells like him, like us, like safety—and isn't that a joke? Me feeling safe?

Yep, for the first time in too long.

I curl in on myself, desperate to drown myself in his smell, all while slick pools between my thighs at the growing hunger for Ghost that sweeps through me.

My gaze drifts shut, and I might have dozed off again because the next thing I know, my bladder is protesting with a heavy pressure.

"All right, all right." I untangle myself from my blanket cocoon. The moment I stand, I feel the delicious ache between my thighs that makes me bite my lower lip. Memories of Ghost's cock deep inside me, his huge knot stretching me… it all floods back, and I'm grinning like an idiot at how incredible it felt—his tongue, the orgasms—sending an excited shiver over me.

Take that, Jarl, you incompetent ass. All those times, he blamed me for his inability to knot, and it turns out, he was just … lacking.

I snicker to myself on the way to the shower, then yelp as cold water hits my skin. "Zeus!" Nothing like arctic water to wake a girl up.

I raid the wardrobe Awa keeps stocked—bless that woman. I pull on riding pants, an oversized white button-down, and a leather corset that makes me feel like a warrior princess.

When I emerge from the bathroom, I spot a platter of muffins near the window. "Hello, beautiful," I purr, snatching one up. The first bite hits me with an explosion of banana, rum, and coconut that has me moaning. "Mara, you magnificent witch," I mumble around a mouthful of heaven. I grab a second one because I'm starving, and these are amazing. Much like my mate… Fuck, I have a mate now!

Speaking of Ghost…

Where is he?

"Down, girl," I tell my wolf firmly. "We're not going to be one of those clingy Omegas who can't function without their Alpha. Even if he does smell like sex and sin and— Nope, stopping that line of thought right there." But my heat is definitely coming. I can feel it simmering under my skin, stronger than before but not yet urgent, and already my panties are drenched just from thinking of Ghost.

I head out of the room to a quiet hallway. I'm surprised there are no guards today.

The stone hallway is oddly quiet as I head for the kitchen, and the sunlight pouring through the windows makes everything look deceptively peaceful. I pause at the balcony, drawn by movement near the tree line in the far distance. A figure darts into the woods, too quick for me to identify, and something about the movement makes my instincts heighten.

Footsteps sound behind me, and I twist around to find Eve. She joins me at the railing, her silence heavy, her forehead furrowed, shoulders curled forward. She stares out at the woods, tension radiating off her in waves.

"Everything okay?" I ask, though I shouldn't care. Yet, the way she's holding herself, it's like she's bracing for impact.

Somehow, I know whatever she's about to say is going to shatter this brief moment of peace I've found.

She turns to me but keeps glancing over her shoulder, as if expecting someone to materialize from the shadows in the hallway. She's wearing a simple cotton dress with an apron dusted with flour, probably from helping Mara in the kitchen. Though, the way her fingers keep worrying at the apron fabric makes me think she's not here to discuss breakfast.

"Listen, Hel." Her voice comes out barely above a whisper. "I don't hate you or anything, but sometimes we do things in life for pure survival." She lets out a bitter laugh. "This island is about surviving. Especially when you make the wrong decisions and trust the wrong people." Her lips pinch together, and there's something in her eyes that reminds me of a trapped animal.

I study her, tilting my head. Part of my brain is screaming that this is the same woman who tried to kill me, who I shouldn't give a damn about. And yet…

"Is someone going to hurt you?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. I don't know…" She swallows hard. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know that." She leans in closer. "I'm not interested in Ghost."

I can't help rolling my eyes and taking a step back. "Oh, this again? Because I distinctly remember you last night?—"

"Shh!" She grabs my arm with surprising strength, dragging me to the far corner of the balcony where the shadows are deeper. Her nails dig into my skin.

"You are so stupid sometimes," she hisses.

"Oh, thanks," I drawl, trying to pull my arm free. "That really makes me want to listen to you. Really winning me over with the charm here."

"Would you just—" She makes a frustrated sound. "Look, surviving here means making allies, and it's easy for you because you got Ghost from the get-go. Some of us have to work harder. I try to make out that I like him because I need his protection."

The genuine fear in her voice has me pausing. I search her face, trying to make sense of her behavior.

"Protection from what? What's going on?"

A sound echoes down the hallway, footsteps, maybe, or voices. Eve goes rigid, her face draining of color so fast I think she might faint.

"Just…" She licks her lips, glancing toward the sound. "Don't trust those closest to Ghost because nothing is as it seems. Nothing." The words tumble out in a rush, urgent and terrified. She turns to leave.

"Wait…" I grab her arm. "Where's Ghost now?"

But she's already pulling away, practically running down the corridor, her apron strings trailing behind her. The sound of her footsteps fades, leaving me alone with a growing sense of unease.

"Okay, that was fucking strange and disturbing." A chill races up my spine as her warning echoes in my head. Those closest to Ghost… My mind starts cataloging everyone.

Awa with her endless kindness.

Mara and her muffins.

Axel and Knut, who've been by his side for ages, it seems, but I don't really know them.

Or anyone else he's close to.

I'm still learning the ropes myself.

Movement catches my eye, drawing my attention back to the woods. Two men emerge from the tree line, dressed in black, like shadows. They pause at the edge of the clearing, scanning the land and remaining there.

I twist around to hurry to the kitchen and not be alone, but I slam straight into a solid chest. I jerk backward, managing to create just enough space to glance up and find a familiar face.

Axel.

Before I can speak, his hand clamps over the back of my head while shoving a chemical-soaked rag against my mouth and nose.

My blood turns cold as I react instantly, shoving against him.

The sharp, sweet smell burns my nostrils as I thrash harder, my hands clawing at his arms, my legs kicking out. But he's like steel, pressing the rag harder against my face as he pulls me tight against his chest. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, and my movements become sluggish and uncoordinated. My legs give out, and the last thing I feel is Axel's arm around my waist, stopping me from hitting the floor as darkness claims me.

T here's a bitterness coating my tongue that makes me want to gag. I snap open my eyes to find I'm no longer on the balcony. A yard surrounds me, and the rough bark of what I'm pretty sure is a tree digs into my spine. My shoulders ache from having my hands bound behind me.

I blink to clear my blurry vision as my head pounds, and I make out what looks like a graveyard of trees, stumps scattered everywhere. Random pieces of furniture are strewn about, too—cushions, half of what might have been a dining table once, even what looks like a bathroom sink lying on its side. But it's the roaming wolves, at least two dozen, that make my heart stutter in my chest.

They're everywhere. Some lounging in patches of sunlight, others pacing between the stumps with predatory grace in my direction. One massive gray beast lifts its head and stares right at me with amber eyes that are far too intelligent to be just an animal.

"This is just perfect," I mumble under my breath, testing the ropes around my wrists and tugging against them. They're tight enough to burn.

What in the world had Axel had me breathing, as my brain still feels foggy?

So, where the fuck am I?

In the distance, I spot makeshift homes. Some are just tattered tents held together by rope, while others are actual structures built into the trees themselves. Platforms and rickety bridges connect some of the higher dwellings, where men lean against railings and stare down at me like I'm the main attraction at a particularly pathetic circus.

A black wolf, lean and scarred, slinks closer to me. Its lips pull back to reveal yellowed fangs, and a growl rumbles from its chest that makes every hair on my body stand on end.

Dread crawls up my legs, seeing there are lots of them, and I'm alone and tied up. My heart thunders against my ribs, and I'm trying my best not to freak out.

The wolf suddenly lunges, snapping at my leg. Pure instinct takes over, and I kick out, catching it right in the nose. It yelps and jumps back, shaking its head.

"Back off!" I shout, but my voice shakes too much. A few of the men in the trees laugh.

An explosion of snarls and the sound of flesh hitting flesh draw my attention to the right. Two wolves are locked in a fierce battle, rolling across the dirt in a fury of teeth and claws. Blood sprays as one catches the other's shoulder, and the injured wolf's howl of pain sends chills down my spine. Other wolves gather around to watch, some wagging their tails as if this is their favorite entertainment.

"Fuck!" I whisper, trying to look anywhere else to find out how to escape and what the hell they want with me. I notice a man walking in my direction, and my blood turns to ice in my veins.

I recognize him instantly.

It's the same fucking asshole who chased me when I first arrived on the island.

He's wearing nothing but black pants that hang low on his hips, showing off a torso covered in scars. His dark blond hair is wild.

His gray eyes lock on to mine as he approaches, and that's when I clearly notice the mark on his chest. His skin is charred, looking more like leather in the center of his chest—right where the lightning had struck him.

I break out in goose bumps and bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from making a sound. I know where I am now. Ghost warned me about the other half of Nightmare Island, about these wolves. The enemy pack.

He pauses right in front of me, close enough that I can smell perspiration on him.

"Welcome home." His crooked grin has my skin crawling.

I try to turn my head away, but his hand shoots out, gripping my chin. His fingers are too warm against my skin.

"Last time we met, you slipped away." His other hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back. "But you're special, aren't you? And there's a rule on this island that that fuckwit Ghost seems to always forget." He leans in closer, his putrid breath making me gag. "Anything new belongs to whoever found them first. And that makes you mine, doesn't it, Omega?" He inhales deeply against my neck, and my stomach turns.

"Fuck you," I spit out.

"Oh, I like fighters." A laugh rumbles through his chest. "They're more fun to break."

Movement catches my eye, and I spy Axel striding toward us, looking like he owns the place. He doesn't even glance my way, the traitorous bastard. I grind my teeth but keep my mouth shut for now.

My mind races back to Eve's words, and suddenly, her actions make a horrible kind of sense. If she was using Ghost for protection, what kind of monster is she hiding from?

I stare at Axel.

"Sten," he states, and finally, I have a name to go with the nightmare in front of me. "Hel's yours. You got your side of the deal. Now you agree to mine."

Sten releases me and turns to face Axel. They take a few steps away from me as Sten cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders. Everything about him—from the way he moves, the calculated casualness, the barely contained violence—reminds me so much of my husband that I want to scream.

He taps his fingers against his thigh in a rhythm that seems random but isn't. I know that tic, that false tell of nervousness hiding his real intention.

"Of course," he says, voice smooth. "A deal's a deal."

In a split second, Sten's holding a blade, and his arm swings, burying it into Axel's throat. Blood sprays, and Axel's eyes go wide with shock.

The wolves around us go wild, rushing around, howling, growling.

Sten laughs, the sound grating on my skin. "I don't fucking owe you or anyone anything, you fucking weasel."

A gasp tears from my throat as Axel falls to his knees, hands clutching his neck. Sten lets out a sharp whistle, and wolves of all sizes and colors emerge from the shadows.

"Have at it," Sten calls out, grinning. "I don't want any remains."

I want to look away but can't as the wolves descend. The sounds. Oh gods, the sounds—tearing flesh, cracking bones, Axel's gurgling screams cut short.

My whole body trembles, and I feel the familiar electric tingle in the air as clouds begin gathering overhead, responding to my fear.

But Sten's back.

"Don't touch me."

His hand is back on my chin, squeezing, forcing me to look at him.

"I see you're calling your storm." His grin is all teeth, no humanity. "So let's make this quick."

And a scream rushes past my mouth as I watch him lift his blade.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.