Chapter 1

Chapter

One

BEN

Ben knew he screwed up.

It was blindingly obvious, considering he was zip-tied by the wrists and ankles and crammed in the trunk of a car. A car that had travelled for several hours after he regained consciousness.

Ben swore as they took a sharp turn, banging his cheek against the bat his wolf captor used to get the drop on him. The trunk stank of his blood and sweat, as well as old socks and a stale gym bag that told him the wolf liked to pump iron when he wasn't hunting.

Ben planned to loiter in plain sight for two weeks, waiting for Vaughn, alpha of the Westplains Pack, to take the bait and come for him. But a different wolf caught him and stole the gun destined to take down Vaughn for good.

Now they travelled halfway across the state, and a sense of doom settled deeper into Ben's bones with each passing mile.

Squirming, Ben strained against the zip-ties keeping his wrists behind his back but only succeeded in sending cutting pain across his raw skin. Faint red light trickled in from the taillights; otherwise the interior was oppressively dark. It was late at night, the sound of other cars alarmingly infrequent, which meant they travelled the backroads, too.

Likely because his asshole captor didn't want anyone else zeroing in on his prize.

Water sprites like Ben were rare and coveted for the soft magic they carried that brought prosperity to a pack. Ben learned to use it to his advantage, as many assumed soft magic meant a gentle creature. And maybe he would have been gentle had Vaughn not decimated his clan's grotto a decade ago and stolen the territory.

So now Vaughn was going to die by his hand—if Ben could get a bit of luck to go his way.

Head aching, Ben forced himself to lie back and relax his stiff muscles. More time passed, and he needed to remain flexible to take his captor down.

The car suddenly turned hard and braked, sending Ben pitching across the dirty lining. Loose gravel rattled under the tires before they came to an abrupt stop.

Ben held his breath as the engine turned off. His captor got out, the car door slamming shut before footsteps approached.

A hand patted the roof above Ben's head, and he held very still and silent as he listened. The quiet stretched for long, heart-pounding minutes. Were they in pack territory? Was he about to be thrown to the wolves? It was a long time since he'd last felt truly helpless. While he planned to get close enough to Vaughn to finally kill him, his current situation left him feeling unprepared.

But then the footsteps shuffled off.

Ben strained fruitlessly against the zip-ties, aware his time was running out.

His asshole captor soon returned, keys rattling against the lock of the trunk. It opened a fraction, and the wolf peered in, unsure whether Ben was unconscious or ready to fight.

The wolf was an ugly fucker, Ben decided, with mousy-brown hair, a weak chin and overly-muscled chest and arms as if he tried to compensate for his unremarkable face.

The trunk lid fully opened and the asshole waved a roll of duct tape with a sly grin. "No noise, little sprite," he said before forcefully slapping tape over Ben's mouth.

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, his captor lifted him up, and Ben caught the red flash of a motel vacancy sign before being hauled over the wolf's shoulder. His captor carried him across the gravel to a squat, rundown building with only one other car in the parking lot. The wolf kicked open a door.

The motel room stank of stale cigarette smoke and unwashed sheets, the walls marked with brown water stains. The harsh light showed off the dark brown carpet and nasty bed complete with cigarette burns on the cover. There was a single lamp, a dented bar fridge, and a door leading into a bathroom.

The wolf threw Ben onto the bed hard enough that he bounced on the lumpy mattress.

Before Ben could get over his disorientation, the wolf was on him, grabbing him by the throat and pressing him down into the stinking pillow.

"You're my lucky ticket, boy, so don't try anything, got it?" the wolf hissed, tightening his grip on Ben's throat as if he wasn't twice Ben's weight and a foot taller.

Ben resisted kicking and headbutting the wolf. That would only get him knocked unconscious again. Instead, he blinked up at the wolf and gave a wide-eyed nod like he was terrified. He promised himself that as soon as he got loose, he'd show this fucker the real meaning of terror.

The wolf stroked the side of Ben's face, his finger scratching at the dried blood on Ben's temple. With a grin, the wolf put his finger in his mouth and sucked hard before rubbing it vigorously against his gums.

Ben fought not to gag behind the tape.

"Vaughn never said you'd be tasty, little sprite," the wolf said, smacking his lips. He pushed Ben's face to the side, half into the nasty pillow, before licking a stripe from Ben's collarbone to his ear.

A small, outraged sound escaped Ben's throat. He was going to kill this wolf.

The wolf sat back with a grin, settling his weight on Ben's legs as he looked Ben over like a piece of meat. "I think I'm going to keep you, sprite. I'll have you give up your luck like a good little thing." He stroked Ben's cheek.

Ben wanted to vomit. He breathed deeply through his nostrils, trying to find his peace by thinking of smashing this fucker's face through a wall.

"Yeah, Vaughn's gonna be real mad when I don't show up with you. Maybe I'll stash you here and tell him you ran. It's worth the risk, hmm, little one?"

This was even worse than Vaughn overpowering Ben and stealing his luck. Ben was prepared to lose everything—his freedom, even his life—so long as Vaughn died first. But it stood to all fall apart because of this greedy, ugly wolf.

Giving Ben's cheek one last pat, the wolf rolled off him and headed for the bathroom, leaving the door open. He pissed loudly into the toilet, groaning in satisfaction.

Minutes later, water sputtered and hissed in the shower.

Ben rolled, not hesitating as he kicked both feet into the lamp on the bedside table. The stupid thing was plastic, but the bulb wasn't. It obligingly shattered, and Ben froze as he watched the bathroom door. The asshole remained in the shower, water splashing.

Ben hit the carpet beside the broken glass and scrabbled blindly for a piece big enough to cut through the zip-tie. Fingers stinging from tiny little cuts, Ben watched the door to the bathroom as he frantically sawed back and forth on the plastic tie. It gave slightly, and Ben hunched forward and strained, pulling his wrists as far apart as possible before the tie snapped. Gasping, he quickly turned to his ankles, blood making his grip on the glass slick. But he managed, cutting free soon enough.

He stood, grimacing as feeling flooded back into his feet. Peeling off the tape covering his mouth, Ben hesitated for only a heartbeat before heading for the bathroom.

Cautiously peering in, Ben saw the wolf's wide, pale back as he faced into the shower. Water pooled on the tiles all the way to the wolf's bunched-up clothes on the floor. Ben crept forward, grabbing the dirty jeans and searching the pockets for the car keys.

The keys jingled slightly, enough for the wolf to notice.

He whirled, and Ben had to give it to him—he was damn quick because he tackled Ben before he could scramble backwards. Wet and slippery skin became the only thing that saved Ben, the wolf missing his first chance to lock his hold on him. But the wolf used his longer reach to reel Ben in, a grip on his forearm turning tight and bruising before Ben could think.

"You sneaky little shit!" the wolf hissed, violently shaking him until his brain rattled.

Ben clenched his fist around the keys, letting them stick out between his fingers. "Fuck you!" He punched wildly, serving up rapid, nasty hits to the asshole's chest and stomach.

The keys were too small to cause real damage, but the wolf hollered like he was dying anyway.

Ben grabbed the wolf by the ear and twisted, earning another shrill scream. Not hesitating, he slammed the wolf's head against the piss-filled toilet bowl. The heavy thud echoed in the room as the naked wolf collapsed in a convulsing heap.

Mouth turning dry, Ben slid back on the wet tiles until his back slammed against the wall, the keys still clenched tight in his fist. He took deep, gulping breaths, muscles trembling as all of the fresh bruises let themselves be known.

The wolf lay still, his big meaty limbs crammed awkwardly in the tight space beside the shower stall.

Ben allowed himself a few moments to get his head to stop spinning. He might need to reconsider his approach to killing Vaughn if the alpha was sending wolves like this guy to snatch him.

Pushing upright, Ben searched for the wolf's wallet and stuffed the few notes into his back pocket. He threw the wallet in the piss water of the toilet, baring his teeth in vindictive satisfaction.

"That's for licking me, you fuck."

Ben strode for the front door, yanking it open.

Only to find a new, hulking wolf dressed in black blocking his escape.