Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
He grabbed his phone from the truck, snatched his shredded jeans off the porch, yanked them on, and then stepped inside, his heart hammering against his ribs. The cold bit into his bare chest, but he barely registered it. Thumbing through his contacts, he pressed Thane’s number.
The call rang. No answer.
“Shit,” he growled. Thane always said he was going to sleep but ended up patrolling through the night half the time.
The voicemail beeped. “Hey, it’s Jackson. Somebody took Emily. They flew her out of here. I need to know where. Call me.” His voice vibrated with barely leashed fury as he clicked off and tossed the phone onto the counter.
He dragged air deep into his lungs and forced his mind to focus. Panic wouldn’t help her.
Stepping back onto the porch, he scanned the dark tree line, eyes narrowed. The wind carried traces of her scent, but the storm had churned everything into chaos. His pulse pounded harder as adrenaline spiked, his wolf clawing at his skin, but he pushed the urge down. He needed information.
He bolted across the yard, legs pumping hard until he reached the nearest tree. He scaled it quickly, muscles flexing with smooth efficiency as he hoisted himself onto a branch. His breath misted in the air as he balanced against the trunk and scanned the property.
When Thane had insisted upon installing the security system, Jackson had mounted hidden cameras in several trees around the perimeter, figuring that someday he’d have a family and want a little security. Until now, the system was never used since his presence alone was usually enough to deter threats.
Had the cameras engaged when he armed the system? He was the only person who knew he’d planted cameras out there.
Damn it, he should have thought this through.
Clenching his jaw, he scanned the area, searching for any flicker of movement beyond the trees. Snowflakes drifted past his vision, catching glimmers from the porch lights, but nothing stirred in the darkness.
How the hell had the enemy gotten into his territory again?
Or worse—was it someone he knew?
He ripped the memory card from the camera nearest the front porch and dropped from the tree, landing hard with a spray of snow beneath his feet. His breath came fast, fogging the air in short, sharp bursts as his mind churned with thoughts he couldn’t control. Fear, cold and suffocating, clawed through him, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He crushed it down with pure rage and sprinted toward the house, ice biting into the soles of his bare feet as he tore across the clearing.
He hit the porch at full speed and barreled inside without slowing, sliding across the floorboards. The scent of her blood in the air nearly had him shifting into wolf form again. A snarl ripped from his throat.
Charging into his office, he slammed the door shut behind him and shoved the memory card into his computer. The machine took too long to boot up, the seconds dragging like nails against his nerves as update prompts flashed across the screen.
“Come on,” he growled, fingers twitching against the desk. His pulse pounded in his temples. Every wasted second burned through him like fire.
Where the hell was she? Was she hurt? Had they harmed her?
The questions hammered through his skull as another program began to update. His patience snapped. His hand shot out, fingers curling against the edge of the monitor, ready to rip the entire system apart. He forced himself to still, white-knuckling the desk as his chest heaved with ragged breaths. He was so close to seeing who had taken her.
When he found them, he was going to rip out their throats.
Chapter 36
Emily came to with a sharp intake of breath, the world around her still and cold. She felt solid rock under her, rough and unyielding. Her arms, now bound in front, ached from the strain.
Ducking her chin, she lifted her hands and heard the rattle of a chain. Grunting, she fumbled with her fingers until she managed to yank the rough hood from her head. The smell of garlic clung thickly to her nose and throat, coating her breath with its acrid sting. Her eyes watered, and the dull throb at the back of her skull reminded her they’d hit her in a different spot this time. Fantastic. She bit down a slightly hysterical laugh and forced herself to focus.
Dust swirled in the air, thick and stale, carrying the metallic tang of iron mixed with the earthy scent of damp stone. Beneath the dust and age, she caught the faint whiff of oil—old machinery oil—and something sulfuric.
The place felt unused for years, maybe decades, but the smell of coal, rusty tools, and old wood still clung to the air. She blinked rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.
The room was bare, the walls hewn from jagged rock and patches of decayed timber beams reinforcing the ceiling. Rusted metal brackets jutted from the stone, once used to hold lanterns or equipment. Opposite her, a set of old block windows lined the middle of the wall, the kind divided into squares like industrial glass bricks, dirty with age and grime. Beyond them, she glimpsed a narrow hallway carved from the rock, lit by a single dim bulb that buzzed in the silence.