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CHAPTER ELEVEN

RIVER

A s soon as Titan left, River let out a harsh breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She scanned the extensive art studio again, taking in all the high-end supplies and equipment. Part of her was impressed- but another part unsettled.

She walked over to the mini-fridge and retrieved a can of cola, cracking it open and taking a long swig.

The cool liquid soothed her still-unsettled stomach.

Inside sat fruit, a sandwich, yogurt, and even a couple of candy bars.

As much as she wanted to rip into the candy bars, she had nowhere in the art room to throw up.

River wandered around the room, running her fingers over easels and examining the various paints and brushes.

"What do you think?" she murmured to her wolf. "Should we try our hand at painting after all?"

Her wolf gave a noncommittal grumble in response. River couldn't blame her- this wasn't the time for artistic exploration. This was an opportunity to identify weaknesses and plan their escape. River placed the soda on a table and began her search.

Twenty minutes later, after River had methodically inspected every inch of the room, looking for anything that could be useful.

The windows were reinforced and didn't open.

The solid door locked from the outside. The French doors had three locks on them and an alarm at the top that would sound if they were opened.

And with her wolf out of commission, there would be no way for her to rip the wood between the small panes of glass apart enough to get out anyway.

She sighed and turned, inspecting the room again. A small wisp of AC caressed her ankle. She looked around again, and her eyes stopped at a corner where a large table sat. She walked to it, and the breeze grew stronger. She dropped to all fours and looked under the table.

Aha!

Under the table stood an 18-inch square vent.

River hopped to her feet and looked around.

She found a palette knife on the table and took it before dropping to her knees again.

She crawled under the table and unscrewed the vent cover.

It dropped to the ground, and the slats shook.

River caught it and muffled the sound before holding her breath.

She waited. Seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. Finally, she breathed again and moved the vent to the side.

She stuck her hand into the vent, but there was no metal shaft inside.

Instead, it felt like the same cement she sat on.

She tried to look inside but couldn't see anything.

Air flowed out, but not from a connected vent; it was from something else.

The sound of whirring filled the air. She thought about climbing in, but without a way to see what was inside, it was too dangerous to risk it.

She replaced the vent cover, screwed in the screws with her fingers, and then crawled out from under the table, putting the palette knife back.

She thought about taking it to use as a weapon, but it was too short, thin, and dull to ever be effective.

It was effective at removing screws, though.

That could come in handy. She went to snatch it back up but stopped, wondering if there were cameras in the room.

She scanned the ceiling and walls but didn't see any.

If she were a prisoner, and Titan didn't want her to escape... why didn't he have cameras on her at all times?

She moved slowly back to where the main easel was sitting, inspecting every surface as she moved.

Still, she didn't see anything that looked like a camera.

She folded her arms over her chest and chewed the inside of her lip as she inspected the few items that could potentially be used as weapons in a pinch.

Wooden paint brushes, more palette knives, palettes.

Paint thinner would be great if she had a lighter, which she didn't. Several ceramic mugs.

She could break one and use the shards, possibly, but Titan would notice for sure.

She looked at the paintbrushes in the mug again and stopped.

She pulled out a smaller, shorter brush with an acrylic handle.

She ran her fingers down it to the angled tip at the end.

Now that she could use as a weapon, but nothing would help her break out.

With a sigh, River sank onto a plush armchair in the corner. She rubbed her belly, thinking of the life growing inside her. A tidal wave of protectiveness washed over her.

"We'll find a way out of here. I promise."

She stared at the blank canvas, and her thoughts drifted to Ares and Apollo. Were they looking for her? Of course they were. But would they find her? And if they did, would they live through the encounter? Titan seemed to have planned everything meticulously. And he had an arsenal of guns…

She shook her head. She had to stay focused on finding a way to escape and get back to her mates. If she could escape, Ares and Apollo wouldn't need to come to Titan's place. They wouldn't be put in further danger. But she needed to get out.

River stood and shuffled to the easel. Maybe painting would help her think, give her subconscious mind space to work on the problem. She squeezed some paint onto a palette and picked up a brush, staring at the blank canvas.

Without thinking, she ran the soft brush over the canvas, leaving a long, dark streak. She looked at it, and an image formed. Using broad strokes of sky blue and purple, the image began to take shape. River painted a night sky as seen from the forest where she'd gone with Apollo.

River backed away from the canvas, surveying her work. The night sky she'd painted was hauntingly beautiful, stars twinkling against the midnight blue backdrop. It was far from perfect, but if she was going for impressionism, it wasn't bad.

She snorted and then chuckled.

She continued to dissect the painting. Something was missing.

She picked up a smaller brush and dabbed on more detail. Three wolves emerging from the shadows at the edge of the canvas- one silver, one black and white, one russet brown. River's ribcage tightened as she painted, memories flooding back.

The bond with Ares and Apollo warmed her. The sense of belonging, of being seen and accepted. The fierce protectiveness and love that had enveloped her. Being with both of them. Loving them unconditionally and without restraint. Feelings she never thought she'd experience.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she swiped it away. She couldn't afford to break. She had to stay strong, stay focused.

River placed the brush on the easel and walked over to a window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass.

Her hand drifted to her abdomen again. How long before she started showing? How long could she keep her pregnancy hidden?

Her wolf grumbled. Escape. Ares. Apollo. Home.

"I know," she murmured. "We'll get out of here. Somehow."