Hunter's Heart

Chapter 34

When Quinn came to, it was to nearly full darkness and a skull splitting headache so bad she felt sick with every pound it gave. Through the gloom, she could see that she was in some kind of cell, one with nearly impenetrable glass in the front instead of bars. Using the wall to keep herself upright, Quinn made her way to the front of the cell in an effort to try and get a feel for where she was, which detention center she'd been taken to, and nearly tripped over a metal bucket with blankets piled on top of it.

Given the slight chill in the cell, the blankets were understandable, but the bucket? What the hell was the bucket ...?

"Bastards," she hissed under her breath when she realized what the bucket was for. Not even a working toilet for prisoners. In all her trips with her grandfather to compounds like this in the past, she had never seen cells so inhumane before.

A soft groan caught her attention and she turned to the back corner of her cell to find she wasn't alone in her cell. From the size of the body sprawled on the floor, she could tell he was male, which made her frown. More than one prisoner to a cell was strange enough. Putting a male and female together was downright stupid.

Tentatively, Quinn drew in a breath through her nose, scenting the are in the cell and her legs nearly gave out in relief. Sandalwood. They'd put her in the same cell as Christian.

Rushing as best she could to his side, Quinn rolled him over and swore under her breath at what she saw. He looked like he'd gone a few rounds with the big guy from before. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his bottom lip was swollen and broken and the whole left side of his face was an angry purple color.

"Christian?" she called softly to him, brushing his shaggy black hair back from his face. "Are you awake?"

Another groan was his response. The way he was breathing had Quinn frowning. She pulled his shirt up and saw he'd taken a few shots to the ribs.

"Those bastards," she hissed, before she retrieved the blankets from the front of the cell and carefully draped on over him.

"Help me up," he wheezed and Quinn reluctantly helped the six foot something man sit up, propped against the back wall of the cell.

"You're hurt," she pointed out. "Wouldn't lying down be better?"

Christian shook his head. "I need to stay alert."

His gaze roamed over her, taking in every tiny detail. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Quinn shook her head gingerly, her head throbbing with every movement. Christian's body seemed to relax a fraction in response and he lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. For a long moment, he just looked at her, his ice blue eyes unreadable. Then he wrapped his fingers around a few locks of her hair and gently tugged, urging her to lean forward. When she did, he forced himself to lean forward and brushed his lips against hers softly.

"You know I'm not a spy, right?" she said softly when she pulled back. "I would never betray the pack, never betray you. My past with the Hunters is exactly that, the past. I want nothing to do with them again. Not ever."

Surprisingly, Christian's swollen lips spread into a weak smile and, despite his injuries, he pulled her against his side.

"I know that, my little wolf," he said as his hand ran over her hair in long, soothing strokes. "I don't need a bond between us to know that."

They were quiet for a while, each contemplating their predicament. Quinn wished the bond was still in place, so that she would have some idea of what her Alpha was thinking. She could vaguely sense a little concern coming from him, but she figured that was from her gift.