Capture

The piercing wail of the alarm tears through the peaceful night, jolting me from my slumber. The sound reverberates through the ancient stone walls of our room, making my heart thunder against my ribcage. Killian's usually warm amber eyes are now sharp with concern as he quickly pulls on clothes

"What's happening?" My voice quivers despite my attempt to remain calm.

"Rogues have crossed the border," he responds, his jaw tense. The words send ice through my veins.

Killian must see the fear in my eyes because his expression softens momentarily. "The house is heavily guarded," he assures me, his rough fingers gentle against my cheek. "With all the royal families and elders here for the meeting, this is the safest place in the realm." He presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips warm against my cold skin. "Stay here. I'll be back."

But I can't stay still. Not when everything I love might be in danger. I throw on my clothes, my trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt and follow the path Killian took downstairs. The usually welcoming kitchen, with its herb-lined windows and warm hearth, feels different tonight. The air is thick with tension and fear.

My grandmother, usually so composed and regal, is clutching my grandfather's shirt, her silver hair falling from its careful arrangement as tears stream down her face. Grandfather, one of the most powerful elders in the council, cups her face in his weathered hands. Despite the gravity of the situation, his eyes twinkle with their usual mischief.

"Don't worry, my love," he says, his voice strong despite his advanced years. "This old dog still has some tricks left in him." He winks, and for a moment, I see the young warrior he once was, the man who helped establish peace in our realm decades ago.

As I watch him leave, I can't shake the feeling that tonight will change everything. The alarm continues its mournful cry, and somewhere in the darkness, I know Killian is preparing to defend our home. All I can do is pray that everyone I love will return safely when dawn breaks.

The night stretches before us, full of uncertainty and danger, and I realize that the peaceful life we've known might never be the same again.

My fingers slip from Grandmother's weathered hand as I excuse myself to the bathroom, her gentle nod following me down the dimly lit hallway. The ancient floorboards creak beneath my feet, each sound making my already frayed nerves jump.

Inside the bathroom, I splash icy water on my face, watching rivulets trail down my cheeks in the spotted mirror. My heart aches with worry for Killian and Grandfather. The mate bond pulses faintly within me – a thin thread of life confirming Killian still breathes, but it offers little comfort. Being alive doesn't mean he's not suffering.

The water drips from my chin as I stare at my reflection, noting the dark circles under my eyes and the pallor of my skin. The pack house feels too quiet, too still, like the calm before a devastating storm.

When I pull open the door, my heart nearly stops. Alpha Caden towers in the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking any escape route. The question tumbles from my lips before I can stop it: "What are you doing here? You should be fighting the rogues!"

His laugh sends ice through my veins – not the warm, protective sound I've known since childhood, but something darker, sinister. Before I can process the change, he moves with supernatural speed. The cloth comes down over my face, and the acrid smell of wolfsbane burns my nose and throat.

Panic explodes in my chest. I thrash wildly, my nails raking against his arms, leaving bloody trails that heal almost instantly. My kicks connect with his shins, but it's like hitting concrete. The wolfsbane seeps into my system, turning my limbs to lead, but I fight with everything I have. My wolf howls in desperate fury inside my mind, but she's weakening too.

"Shhh," he whispers, and the sound is almost gentle – which makes it all the more terrifying. "Don't fight it, little wolf."

The darkness creeps in from the edges of my vision, my movements becoming sluggish and uncoordinated. The last thing I see is Alpha Caden's face, his eyes no longer holding any trace of the man who helped raise me. As consciousness slips away, one thought screams through my mind: everything we believed was a lie.

The mate bond pulses once more, weak but present, as I slip into the void.

The rhythmic bounce of tires over uneven terrain jolts me awake, each bump sending waves of panic through my body. The blindfold bites into my skin, but they can't mask the telltale scents that assault my heightened werewolf senses. Cedar mingles with fresh earth, painting a mental picture of dense forest surrounding us. My wrists burn against the silver-laced restraints, a cruel reminder of my powerlessness.

"Five minutes to the cabin," Caden's voice cuts through the darkness, his Alpha tone carrying that signature arrogance that once made my wolf submit. Now it makes my stomach turn. The van's interior reeks of someone else's presence, but their natural scent drowns beneath waves of cologne so strong it makes my eyes water behind the blindfold. A clever tactic – wolves rely on scent recognition, and this stranger might as well be a ghost.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. The mantra repeats in my head as I focus on controlling my breathing. Show weakness to an Alpha like Caden, and he'll tear you apart just for the pleasure of it. The van lurches to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires. My heart pounds so hard I'm certain everyone can hear it.

The door slides open with a metallic screech. Cold air rushes in, carrying the scent of pine needles and approaching rain. Rough hands grab me, and before I can brace myself, I'm airborne. The ground meets my body with unforgiving force, forcing a pained cry from my lips before I can stop it.

"Shut up!" Caden's boot connects with my ribs, stealing my breath. The Alpha's scent floods my nostrils – leather, smoke, and that underlying note of cruel satisfaction. He enjoys this, enjoys breaking what he once claimed to protect.

Leaves crunch under multiple boots around me. The cologne-masked stranger moves closer, their shadow blocking what little light seeps through my blindfold. I hear Caden's low chuckle, and my wolf whimpers inside me, recognizing the sound of a predator who's caught his prey.

This is just the beginning of whatever they have planned, and as the first drops of rain begin to fall, I realize no one knows where to look for me. In these woods, under this Alpha's control, my screams will echo unheard through the cedar trees.

The metallic taste of blood lingers in my mouth as I'm hoisted over the stranger's shoulder like a ragdoll. Each step he takes sends jolts of agony through my bruised ribs, and I bite my lip until it bleeds, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream. The musty air grows thicker as we descend into darkness, the basement stairs creaking beneath his heavy boots.

Alpha Caden their leader's earlier words ring in my ears: "Take her to the basement and tie her up… make sure you gag her." They know what I am. They know that under normal circumstances, I could tear them apart with barely a thought. But now, weakened and injured, I'm at their mercy.

The impact with the concrete floor forces what little air remains from my lungs. The basement reeks of decay and old fear – I'm not their first prisoner. My enhanced senses pick up traces of others who came before me, their desperation still lingering in the dank air.

Cold silver circles my wrists, and the burning begins immediately. Wolfsbane-infused metal sears into my flesh, sending waves of nausea through my body. A whimper escapes before I can stop it, and one of my captors chuckles darkly. They know exactly what they're doing; these aren't amateur hunters.

"Struggle all you want, wolf," the leader sneers, securing the chains to metal loops embedded in the wall. "The more you fight, the more it burns."

As they force a cloth between my teeth, my thoughts turn to Killian. My mate. My alpha. The bond between us pulses weakly – they've done something to dampen it, but they haven't severed it completely. He's still out there, and he'll come for me. He has to.

The basement door slams shut, leaving me in near-total darkness. Only a thin shaft of light filters through a tiny window near the ceiling, illuminating dancing dust motes and my own ragged breathing. The silver continues its relentless burning, a constant reminder of my imprisonment.

Killian, I call through our weakened bond, please find me. But even as I send the thought, I know these hunters are smart. They've planned this too well. And whatever they want from me, I fear I'll discover it long before any rescue can arrive.

The darkness seems to pulse around me, and somewhere above, I hear them beginning their preparations.