Page 3 of Never Submit (Bad Wolves #2)

Chapter 3

Ren

T ime is untraceable in my cage.

Without a window to watch the sun, there’s no way for me to know just how long I’ve been stuck in this room.

Andras hasn’t come back. And the only interactions I have with others are brief—just a few seconds while one of his underlings brings some pitiful-looking food and dribbles of water. But that’s it.

No one speaks to me. They barely even look at me, and as I sit here, alone, my panic increases.

The aches in my limbs deepen as I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs.

Part of me hopes the men are looking for me, trying to rescue me, but another part is terrified that they’ll succeed. Why? Because Andras’s last words to me have haunted my thoughts since he left.

“I’m counting on it.”

He wants them to come here, and that means he has plans. Deadly plans. It’s a trap, and I’m meant to be the bait.

Are my wolves smart enough to stay out of trouble? To somehow counter the madman's plans and find a way to stay safe and rescue me? That kind of thing happens in fairy tales but not in real life.

I can’t have the guys walk into their deaths because of me. And if they aren’t coming, I’m on my own. Either way, that only leaves one real option.

I need to find a way out now .

I may have dodged the death promised by my curse, but death is still coming for me if I stay here. It’s guaranteed.

Step one is getting out of this cage.

When the rumbles of voices outside the room go silent for an extended period of time, I move. This is my shot.

I shift to the rear of the cell, shimmying between the bars and the rock.

The wounds on my back throb to attention as I tear up the skin again. I force the air from my lungs, able to get one leg and arm through the small space before I catch. My chest tightens, my heart racing and my stomach taking a deep dive toward sick territory again.

Tears well in my eyes, but I know it’s a small price to pay compared to what’s coming.

Twisting myself to an unnatural angle, I try to slide the rest of myself out, but my damn boobs are in the way. Stupid damn boobs.

Shit.

Not knowing what else to do, I place both hands on the bars pinning me in place and push with all my strength. It’s futile, I know, but I only need a few more inches and I’ll be free.

As expected, they don’t budge.

Ugh. Of course they don’t. I’m definitely not Supergirl. I’m just me.

My mind races, scrambling, going in a thousand directions at once.

The rips and tears in Andras’s shirt, the dried blood on his skin there… He told me to shift; he told me he’d seen my wolf.

I’m not a wolf.

Clearly, the guy has an entire toolbox of screws loose, but whenever I try to remember what happened during our standoff in the woods, the moment is still a missing puzzle piece in my memory.

I’m not a wolf. I’m a human. A very unlucky human.

Frustration vibrates through my muscles, and I grip the bars tighter, hoping that by some miracle Andras suddenly becomes right and I am granted the same kind of strength and power as Dax or the other wolves.

I have to get out. I have to. Wolf strength would get me out, if I had it.

I didn’t survive my birthday just to die in this horrible place. No way .

At first, there’s only the sound of my labored breathing, and the sensation of my body straining against the unyielding bars.

But then something strange happens.

The tips of my fingers tingle, a sharp, almost painful sensation.

Curses fall from my lips as my heart races even faster, determined to do something helpful to grant my freedom, and to my horror my nails lengthen. Curve.

They grow longer and sharper, taking on an almost metallic sheen as fur pushes through my pores, coarse and stark white, like a wild animal's pelt.

It's like something out of a nightmare.

I can’t breathe .

I can’t move, or look away, or do anything as my body changes.

The bars start to bend beneath the pressure of my strange transformation. A mix of fear and determination floods through me. I have to get out of here. With every ounce of strength I have, I push and strain with hands that are now not quite human.

To my absolute shock, the metal groans and protests. Eventually it bows enough for me to slip my body fully through.

I tumble free on the other side.

The instant I scramble to my feet, I look at my hands again.

What the actual ?—

They're normal, no fur, no elongated nails. It's as if the bizarre transformation never happened. Okay, I am officially losing my mind.

I rub my forehead. When Andras knocked me out, he really did a number on me.

Was it all my imagination? Did Andras actually get into my head with this wolf thing? Or am I delirious from everything I’ve gone through?

Must be all of it.

I don't have time to dwell on it now. I need to find a way out of this place. I can lose my mind later.

I creep to the door. It’s crudely made—just a slab of bark with a rope for a handle—and it goes along with my idea of this hideout being man-made.

On a positive note, at least I don’t have to worry about another lock.

I press my ear against the door and listen. I can only hear the faint humming of a distant noise, but no distinct voices or footsteps, and my heart quickens with hope .

Whatever space lies on the other side seems to be empty. This is my chance.

Holding my breath, I take my chances and open the door. To my astonishment, the door swings open easily, revealing a long, dimly lit hallway.

Flickering torchlight casts eerie shadows on the rough-hewn rock walls, making it seem like I've entered a hidden underground world.

Cautiously, I poke my head out first. There are quiet murmurings of voices from somewhere in the distance but it’s impossible to hear them clearly, with the tunnel-like hallway sending the echoes everywhere and nowhere at once.

Well, I don’t need to stay here and wait for their owners to head my way.

Since the voices are definitely coming from the right, it’s obvious I shouldn’t head in that direction. So hopefully freedom lies in the opposite direction, to the left.

I slip through the open door and scan the dark corridor. No Andras. No other wolves.

Guess they really didn’t expect me to escape the cage, huh?

Good. Underestimate me.

I dare them.

With each cautious step, my gaze dances around the shadows. There are a few more poorly made doors but nothing else. Just one long winding tunnel with the lit torches barely cutting through the density of the darkness.

And so far, no signs of an exit, either.

The air is heavy with a musty, earthy scent, and my footsteps reverberate softly on the uneven stone floor. As I creep along, the sense of unease in the pit of my stomach grows, even though the voices behind me grow fainter .

Every second counts. My heart continues to race.

I round a corner and the hallway stretches on endlessly. At least here the crisp scent of water reaches me, mixed with the faint aroma of grass and earth, all of it underneath the layers of musky cavern rock, and I draw in a deep breath so that it fills my nostrils.

It makes me think of the forest, of the mountain and freedom, and even though there’s no guarantee that’s where it’ll lead me, I push forward, following it.

Rounding another curve, my ears pick up a harsh, unsettling sound—a series of slapping noises followed by low, guttural grunts. My heart leaps into my throat and I freeze in my tracks, pressing my back against the rough stone wall.

Fuck! I've been found out!

My brain short-circuits. I don’t know what else to do besides stand there like a sitting duck, until I realize the sounds are coming from behind me. More specifically, from behind a door not far off from where I am.

I let out a harsh breath.

After peeling myself off the wall, I’m about to tiptoe past it, but the sound of a woman crying out in pain hits my ears, and I pause again.

Has Andras trapped another woman in here?

Shit, maybe I’m not the only one he’s keeping in a cage. I’ve got to do something.

The sounds get louder. A man grunting, wood scraping across stone, and a woman screaming between every hit of something unknown.

They’re beating her!

Scared and enraged, I inch closer. The door has been left open just a bit, but when I peer through the narrow crack, what I find on the other side sends a shock wave through me.

In the dim light, my gaze snags on a large animal pelt hung across the far wall, like some kind of prized trophy on display. From a bear? No, too small. A…wolf?

Would Andras kill his own kind and display the skin like a deranged lunatic? Yeah, probably.

The thought makes me shudder.

Shadowy figures shift and twine below the pelt, their movements jerky and erratic. They seem to be engaged in some kind of violent struggle, their forms obscured by the shadows of the room, but it definitely seems to be a man holding down a woman, his imposing height towering over her as she’s being forced down on a table of some kind.

It takes a moment, but then my eyes adjust, and when they do?—

It becomes clear the woman is not in any danger at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The man has a pretty blonde bent over a table, her pencil skirt hiked up to her waist, while he slams into her from behind. He may be holding her down, but it’s apparent she’s not screaming in pain.

Ecstasy, definitely. Her eyes are closed and her face is twisted in pleasure.

I blink, coming back to myself, and finally recognize the man behind her. Linebacker shoulders, torn shirt, jet-black long hair.

It’s Andras.

As if he’s heard my thoughts, his head snaps my way. My throat constricts and I book it down the hall before our eyes meet.

I don’t know if he actually saw me, but I’m not sticking around to find out.

Hurry your ass up, Wexler!

Less concerned about being quiet now, my feet pound against the rocky floor as I sprint blindly, my only guide the scents coming from outside.

I pull in ragged gasps as I navigate the winding passage for what feels like forever until, with a desperate spark of energy, I burst into the open air, the darkness of the night somehow much brighter than the darkness inside.

The surprise has me half-tripping on my next steps. My arms windmill in an attempt to regain my balance. When I’m greeted by the cool, open air of the mountainside, I stop running and suck the freshness in greedily.

The grass beneath my feet feels like a miracle, the stars above the treetops things of absolute beauty, and I let it all wash over me for a few untainted seconds.

Until a bone-chilling howl tears through the air, echoing in the cave just behind me, and my heart sinks.

Andras must’ve seen me, and if he didn’t, someone else in the Blood Moon pack has found my cage empty and realized I’m gone.

That only means one thing.

The chase is on.