Pain calls me slowly back to consciousness, burning in my shoulders and back, and throbbing like the beat of a hammer in my skull. My eyelids are sticky and crusted with dried tears, and I crack them open to find myself staring at a dusty wooden floor. I lie face down, my ankles bound with rope, my hands cuffed behind my back, and when I try to move, a loop of chain tightens around my throat.
Biting back a groan, and trying not to choke myself, I sit up carefully and look around. I'm in a plain room with peeling walls and bare floors. The ceiling is cracked and water-stained, and a window with a broken pane is propped open with a stick. A large bed with an iron frame occupies most of the space, and the only other furnishing is a rickety wooden chair, set in one corner.
Raising myself to my knees, I peer over the top of the bed and see three figures lying asleep on the unadorned mattress, side by side. A cry of relief escapes me at the sight of them — Julian and the little twins — and as I scramble around the side of the bed, I lose my balance and topple back to the floor in my eagerness to get to them.
Struggling upright again, I wince as the chain pulls against my throat, and cough hoarsely as I call their names. They don't respond, but someone else does, and my heart quickens with fear as footsteps approach from whatever lies beyond the single, closed door.
It opens, and Martin appears, his eyes widening as he sees me awake.
"Kit!" he exclaims, moving towards me. "Are you—"
"Get away from me!" I gasp, losing my balance and falling back against the wall with a thump.
He stops, his eyes filled with a torment of guilt.
I glare up at him. "What have you done?"
He flinches. "It's just a mild sedative. They'll be fine."
My breath whistles in my throat, restricted by the press of the chain. I lift myself a little and try to give it more slack. It's bound to the shackles at my wrists, and I can only raise them so high behind me, my shoulders protesting at the strain. I understand the purpose is to keep me from shifting to fox form; if I did so in this position, I'd break my back.
"Where are we?" I wheeze.
Martin's face twists with mixed emotions. He looks like he wants to help me, but stays where he is.
"An old abandoned ranch, outside our territory. I had no choice, Kit," he says, spreading his hands helplessly. "Elena has the kids. She said she'd take them to her brother's Pack, and I'd never see them again. She said everyone here would die unless I did what she said."
"I don't understand," I whisper, having gotten myself upright again. "How does kidnapping us help?"
"You know how powerful the Dire is," Martin says miserably. "Elena told me. Dane doesn't stand a chance. If he fights him, he'll be killed. And the rest of us would have fought, too, but we're outnumbered five to one. Elena said if we gave the Dire what he wants, he'll leave the rest of us alone."
"What he wants?"
Martin glances at Julian and the twins. "This territory, and the power that comes with it. With his mate and children hostage, Dane will surrender without a fight. It will be painful and shameful, but at least we'll all survive."
A chill goes through me. "You can't believe that. And if Elena really does, she's wrong. Martin — listen to me: if Dane surrenders, Ferrault will kill him in cold blood. He'll kill your parents, too, and anyone else he sees as a threat. You think that Monty would bow to him? Or Freya?" I shake my head as best I can. "Julian and I will be Prey for the Hunt, and the twins..."
I swallow, not even wanting to think about what would happen to them.
"You have to let us go. Undo this — get us out of here. If we all stand together, we have a chance."
Martin bunches his fingers in his hair. "But the kids..."
"Are they here?"
He shakes his head. "Their uncle has them."
"But they're safe, right?"
"Elena says so, but—"
"Please — please, Martin," I beg. "Take us back home. I know Elena hurts you — I understand the fear. But if you just explain, everyone will forgive you — I'm sure of it. Don't do this to Dane... or Monty. Please."
His face pinches with pain, and tears fill his eyes, and then — to my surprise and relief — he nods. Pulling a key from his pocket, he comes towards me and drops to his knees at my back, working to free my hands.
"We won't have much time," he says, breathlessly, "Elena's—"
"Martin!"
A sharp voice cracks the air like a whip, and Martin startles, dropping the key and knocking me to the side in his surprise. I land with a strangled grunt, the chain digging into my throat, and stare up at the open doorway.
Elena stands there, with Jake at her back.
Martin makes a frightened, desperate sound, and fumbles helplessly for the dropped key.
"Down, dog!" Jake yells, striding forward and hauling Martin away from me. He throws him to the floor and Martin scrambles to get up, but Jake kicks him in the side, and he collapses to his hands and knees.
"I said, down," he snaps.
This time, Martin obeys.
"I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?" Elena says, hands on her hips. "Weak-minded fool."
I struggle to sit up again, heart racing, as she approaches the bed. She wears a stethoscope, and puts the earpieces in as she leans over Julian and the twins, listening to their chests.
Satisfied, she straightens, looping the stethoscope back around her neck.
"They're in good health," she says. "We can keep them like this as long as needed. As for this one..."
She looks at me and frowns.
"Well, you weren't part of the plan. Trust this idiot to muck things up." She nods at Martin.
"What choice did I have?" he asks, sitting up carefully. "He'd seen me. He knew."
She shrugs. "You could have killed him. Left his body for someone else to find."
The coldness in her voice chills me, and Martin looks aghast. "He's my brother's mate, Elena."
"So?" She nods at Julian. "You betrayed your alpha, kidnapped his mate and children, and attacked your own father. You're surprisingly capable, when properly motivated."
Martin looks ill. "I want to see the kids," he says. "I want to know they're safe."
She rolls her eyes. "They're perfectly safe. Far safer than they would be, here. Honestly, I don't know why you care so much. You know half of them aren't even yours."
Martin's face grays, and a spark of anger finally flickers to life in his eyes.
"They are mine," he says. "They're mine because I raised them, and I love them. It's you who hardly has a claim. I've been father and mother to them, while you—"
She steps forward and strikes him across the face, and I flinch at the sharp crack of skin on skin. He lifts his head and glares up at her, and she strikes him again, harder. She raises her hand once more, waiting for him to defy her a second time, but he keeps his head bowed, blood seeping from a cut on his cheek.
"That's better." Elena massages her palm and glances at Jake. "You see the level of pathetic I have to deal with."
"My condolences," he drawls.
"You've been working with them all along?" I ask, finding my voice at last. "With Jake? With Ferrault?"
She narrows her eyes at me. "Our interests happen to align."
"Why?" Martin breathes with a whimper, devastation on his face. "Why are you doing this? Why throw away everything we have without a fight?"
"Everything we have?" she sneers. "Go on — tell me, Martin — what is it we have?"
"A family. Children. A home..." His breath catches. "Each other."
She laughs. "Stop fooling yourself. I never loved you, and you know it. I mated you for a place in your Pack — the famous Hunters." She makes a sound of derision. "Little did I know. Your parents were among the strongest alphas alive — both from long, noble lineages. It made sense to join our blood. Then they failed to live up to their side of the bargain."
"What do you mean?" Martin asks.
"Don't be naive. When a Wolf joins another Pack through a Mating, it's tradition for that Pack to arrange a reciprocal match. It strengthens the bonds and preserves the balance of power. My brother made an offer for your youngest sister, but your parents refused."
"He did?" Martin blinks. "For Ingrid? But she was barely sixteen when we were Mated."
"Case in point," Elena lifts a brow. "They said she wasn't old enough, and they wouldn't arrange a match for her, anyway. I expected my brother to exact revenge, but to my surprise, he told me to bide my time. 'We will wait,' he said. 'The time will come to make our move.' So, I waited, and watched as your parents' Pack degenerated around me through mixed Matings — and worse." She glances at me and Julian. "Not to mention that other 'sister' of yours."
"Don't you talk about her," Martin snaps, a little bit of fire returning to his eyes again as he fights his way to his feet. "Don't talk about any of my family that way."
Jake moves towards him, but Elena waves him off, addressing Martin with a cold smile.
"Your family? You think they're still your family after what you've done? They'll curse you with their dying breaths. As for you, if you continue to cooperate, and if you're lucky, my brother will keep you as a slave; you might even get to see 'your' children grow up."
He shakes his head. "I thought you were doing this for them," he says.
"But I am. Once this land belongs to Ferrault, I'll dissolve my union with you, and take Jake as my Mate. Together, we'll rule, and hold Ferrault's power for him as he continues his path to domination."
"But you're not alphas!" Martin protested.
"No. But that is what Ferrault has discovered: alphas are born, but dires are made. We will gain power through the Hunt, as he has. Why do you think he wants you so badly? And now, with three Fae..."
She looks at the sleeping trio, and my heart seizes with sudden dread and fear.
"I won't help you," Martin says, with unexpected defiance. "If the kids are safe, that's all I care about, now. Dane and the others will figure out what you've done, and they'll get word to your brother. They'll tell him to keep the kids away, no matter what happens with Ferrault."
His eyes flash with certainty, but even as he speaks, my heart goes cold, and Elena's laugh confirms my suspicion.
"But haven't you guessed?" she asks, smiling. "My brother is Ferrault."