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CHAPTER 3

A Kidnapee

ALIA

T he little wolf puppy was sleeping in a gentle nest of hay I kept around to take the edge off Ran’s hunger if I otherwise didn’t have meat. Would hate for her to take a bite out of me.

Ran rolled her eyes around to give me a look. I turned away to hide a slight smile and met the eyes of the werewolf. I tied the dude to a chair with a spelled rope, trying to figure out what to do now that I had him.

“How long do you plan for me to be here? I have a few appointments I need to attend tomorrow.”

I shook my head. “Did the blood loss cause faulty memory? You’ve been kidnapped.”

He shook his bound hands, raising an impervious eyebrow that made my nose itch with a hint of annoyance. “Oh, should I beg for mercy? Please don’t hurt me, O brave and hearty captor. At least any more than you already have.”

I winced. I’d dragged his body to a chair and tied him up before I stitched the wound in his stomach. The bloody gash was ugly from being left untended. Part of me hoped he’d die from infection so I wouldn’t have to kill him.

“What are you doing kidnapping innocent men, anyway? You don’t seem the type.”

I placed a hand on my hip, shaking my head. I didn’t need to answer his questions. But his voice was a bit dry, and I felt sandpaper scratch across my soul, expressing his need . So I grabbed a canteen and placed it to his lips. He raised that eyebrow again. I sighed and rolled my eyes before I drank, just then realizing how thirsty I was. I drank over half the canteen, wiped my lips, and raised an eyebrow at him. His eyes were alight with humor even though his lips remained in a thin line. And this time, he drank.

He licked his lips, and then he grinned, showing white teeth. “Wolfsbane?” he asked. I grinned back to annoy him as much as his grin annoyed me. But it seemed to do the opposite as those eyes sparkled with a dark mischief that nearly caused my palms to sweat. He nodded. “Well played. It seems I’ll be taking a nap. You plan to enact your plan soon?” His voice slurred. “And the pup. You’ll protect him?”

I stared at him, but he was out before I formulated a response. Why was he worried about the wolf pup? There was something in his voice. Something nearly… pained. Sad, maybe? I didn’t think he had those type of those emotions.

I set a hand on the dreaming little puppy. “I’ll protect him,” I promised to his snores, not entirely sure why I did such a thing.

Night came. I checked my stores and sharpened knives. It was a waiting game to see if Hood took the bait sitting behind me.

“Do kidnappers allow certain… needs to be met? It seems I have held my bladder admirably?—”

Annoyance flared in my veins. The high of battle was slowly fading, leading to too many thoughts. What if Hood doesn’t come? What if I’m not prepared? What if I fail?

No. I can’t afford to. Not if I’m to take the place I’ve killed for.

I came over to him and put a silver collar on his neck, wincing at the smell of burning flesh and trying not to make it too tight. His breath smelled of smoke and peppermint, an odd mixture for a werewolf. I thought it would smell of rotten meat and death.

He snapped his teeth, and I had a dagger at his throat before he could blink. He leaned against the cold metal until it parted his skin and red blood pooled. I jerked the blade away. “Are you mad? You don’t have much more blood left to lose!” I said, waving my bloodied dagger at him.

“Not mad,” he said, his eyes boring into my skull as if trying to unravel a pesky knot. “There merely comes a time when death beckons with sweeter fingers than life.”

I stared at him. “Don’t you have something to live for?”

His chuckle was dark and tinged with bitterness. “I do not buy your little sweet girl act. We both know I am not leaving this place alive by your volition. Why do you ask such a question as if you care?”

I met his eyes. There was something in them… something that broke down the walls I’d put around what was left of my soul.

“You do not kill the unicorn, yet my kind deserves your wrath? I deserve to die, but many of my kind do not—and yet you slaughter them without impudence.”

“Who did you lose?” I asked at long last.

He blinked, as if the question surprised him. “My youngest brother. Slain by a Red. His skull was taken back as a trophy. Imagine finding your youngest sibling skinned like an animal. And you have to tell your sisters that he’s dead.”

“You are an animal,” I said, a hint of apology in my voice. What he said hits too close. I couldn’t feel for his species, not yet. I had to gain the heirship before I could change things.

And that meant sacrifice.

His eyes bore into mine. “Does that ease your conscience? Do you treat all animals with the wrath you treat us?”

“Only the magical ones.” Why was I entertaining this? His passion had me by the throat, and it wouldn’t let go.

“As if that absolves you of murder. Anything magical is evil—is that what you are taught? What gives you the right to be judge and executioner?”

I stared at him. What he threw at me were things I had thought myself but couldn’t...

I took out my blowgun, and he stared at me. “You know it’s not right. So why do you do it? I can smell it on you. The guilt. And yet I am still here?—”

The dart sunk into his neck before he spoke another word. His eyes didn’t leave my eyes until his face tipped forward and his chin rested against his chest. I darted him again, just in case he was faking it.

He was getting under my skin.

He released his bladder in his sleep. I felt for him, but it was likely better than him being awake for the mortification.

Why was I worried about the werewolf who’d kill me at a moment’s notice? I shook the thoughts from my head.

Ran gnashed her teeth, drawing my eyes up to see the werewolf and her in a stare down. The werewolf looked away first, his brow lifting with dark humor to find me watching. “You are a curious creature,” he said, his eyes regarding me as if I were a puzzle knot to unravel.

I didn’t pause my sharpening, allowing the gentle cadence and sharp zings to soothe my nerves. “Do you not know it’s impolite to stare?”

“Do you not know it is impolite to stab and kidnap a person?” His voice was droll.

My lips twitched. We lapsed into silence, the zing of the blade and Ran munching on bones the only things to be heard.

The chair creaked as he leaned back. “Ransom is out. You do not seem the sort to kidnap for personal gain.”

I gave a noncommittal snort. “Such a good judge of character, eh?”

“You shan’t torture me for information.”

I wrinkled up my nose in distaste.

“Curious. You are quite the conundrum, are you not? Violence comes to you easily, and yet you don’t wish to bring suffering. What is your purpose?”

“Are you an interrogator or a captive?” I asked, nearly chipping a blade with the next aggressive swipe of my sharpener. He’s digging too deep.

“Are you a pawn in a greater game?”

I blinked at him. “Are we not all pawns in a greater game, Prince of Wolves?”

He hummed, and I couldn’t tell if it was in approval or disappointment. “We are either pawns or we are not. As soon as you allow yourself to believe there is only one and no choice, there is no chance for change.”

“Philosophical werewolf. Never thought I’d see the day. Now shut up.”

He gave a mocking half-bow—nearly hiding the wince when it pulled at his wound—and closed his eyes, leaning back against the chair. If he kept prattling, he was gonna give me a greater headache on top of the one attempting to send a spike through my brain.

A low growl echoed in the silence, sending a jolt along my spine and making my hair bristle on my neck. My knife blade was along my forearm as I readied for attack.

But it was only the pup. He was swaying on his feet, his little eyes staring between the werewolf, the human, and the unicorn in the room. The little guy’s ears were pinned back, the scruff on his neck standing on end.

I breathed out a tiny sigh and walked over to the pup.

“You’re going to get yourself bit,” the werewolf said with all the concern of a horned rabbit munching hay.

When I got close enough, the little wolf snapped his little fangs inches from my fingers. Well, poppycock.

I glared at the werewolf, whose face was blank. There was a twinkle in his dark eye that hinted at delight.

“It’s alright, little one. You’re safe,” I whispered, reaching out once more. The pup whined, and I felt his need.

A grin turned my lips.