Blood Bound: A Werewolf Love Story

Chapter 6: Jett Connell

Chapter 6: Jett Connell

As I fought those wolves off, the only thing I could think about was protecting her. I didn’t even occur to me that I should run, even though I could easily outrun them. She was there, so I had to protect her.

I thought I had the upper hand, until a dozen more wolves joined the fray. After that, I was screwed.

When their teeth ripped into my sides, when their claws drew blood, I didn’t make a sound. My mate needed me to be strong. If they knew she was in that tree—

But they did know. Why had they left her alive?

Jailbait, that’s why, Rafe said. She’s gonna run and tell her pack and they’ll come after them to get you.

No, she wouldn’t do that, I said, 100% sure, though I didn’t know why.

A were bound my paws to a metal pole with rope and it was then I looked at my mate, her coin face high in the tree, shining bright with worry.

And then I passed out.

When I woke up, they beat me. I wasn’t able to shift back, and I couldn’t contact Rafe. I was just a human’s mind in an animal’s body. And it scared the shit out of me.

After what could have been hours, or days, or even weeks, they took off the blindfold. And when I could shift back so I was human, I wriggled out of my shackles.

I inspected my prison; dirty concrete walls, covered in blood and grime, suggesting I wasn’t the first to be held here. My wounds began to heal; slowly, for me; quickly by human standards. There was one door; steel and impenetrable, like a bank vault’s door.

I was really hungry by then; my stomach was practically eating itself. One day, they threw in a chunk of meat; like an animal, I grabbed it from the floor and took a bite. I immediately spit it out, wiping my mouth and tongue on the back of my hand. I would know that scent, from running, and taste, from fighting, anywhere.

It was werewolf meat; flesh, to be exact. The were who had a daily hand in torturing me, and who was on guard duty, guffawed, before tossing in a were.

I sympathized with him; he too couldn’t shift and his back left leg was ripped off. Of course, I didn’t have anything as bad as that, but I sympathized to him.

I breathed in deeply to quell the disturbing image of his hindquarters, when his scent assaulted me. I stared at him horrified. The flesh I had bitten was his. He whined when he knew I knew.

As a marker for time, for the distance between events, I would count my heartbeats. 43,956 beats later, his own heart gave out. I was alone again.

After 69,264 beats they come to hit me some more. I count my beats. 1,745 beats later they stop and I’m alone.

73,275 beats after that they come back to beat me, harder than last time. It lasts for 3,769 beats. This time, they each pull me up by my armpits, slinging my arms around their shoulders, dragging me through the halls, which are equally as dirty as the room, if not more.

We walked up a flight of stairs, then through a door. Gone were the rooms filled with screams and blood. On this floor, the walls were a creamy peach, with matching—well, everything. It looked like a page out of some catalogue.  A woman popped her head from out of the kitchen.

She waved a spatula at us, and I would have laughed, if not for the fact that her eyes were bitch and her face stone cold. “Get blood on the carpet and I will make sure you’re either death or you lose the ability to have children. Got it?” They nodded and a third man, who was walking behind us, grabbed my legs, carrying me awkwardly to the door.  

When the procession went outside the sun blinded me. It didn’t help that there was snow everywhere and the sun was glinting off of that too. Before I could enjoy the light, however, they shoved me into the trunk of a rather big car before taking off. I had to conclude they took the senic route, butcause I was rolling around back there and it hurt like a bitch.

After 23,690 beats, the car came to a stop. They pulled me out and beat me. All I did was detach myself, thinking of my Angel, my mate.

When they were done, one pulled me up, shoving me away from him. I almost fell over because of the pain. “Run, you little fucker.” He shoved me again. “Run!”

I didn’t care where I was. All I knew was that it was an out, one I would gladly take. I ran, and I ran hard, in case they changed their minds.

I struggle through underbrush and ran out of the forest. All I had to do was run across a field of snow and reach a big house. I ran for all I was worth.

Even with my elevated temperature, the cold snow bit at my feet. I knew that I was leaving a pretty significant trail of blood. But I didn’t care.

Weariness overcame me when I was only halfway across the field. I toned it down to a jog, then a walk. I fell down and continued my journey crawling.

I made it to the door, sure there was no more blood in my body, so sure I was going to die.

The last thing I saw, was probably a hallucination; I saw my Angel.