The Helheim Wolf Pack Novellas: The Complete Collection Page 18

Shutting off the water, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower. Water dripped from his wet hair, trickling down his neck then splitting between two paths—one down his chest and the other down his back. He dried his hair and pulled on a pair of sweats he’d left balled up in the corner of the room this morning. Rummaging around in the pockets of the discarded slacks, he found his phone and called Hunter.

  “Tell me you have good news,” his brother said when he answered the call.

  “I have good news,” Dylan replied. “I got her out. It took a little more negotiation than I thought it would, but she’s in the motel with me now.”

  “How is she?”

  He thought back to the bruises that marred her perfect skin. “She’s been bound in the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours. She has bruises on her wrists and ankles. I don’t even want to think about what other injuries she might hold. I suspect she’s malnourished, too. She’s too fucking light.”

  “How is she mentally? A wolf being held for that long must be suffering from some psychological damage.”

  He ran a hand over his damp hair. “Honestly, I don’t know? I haven’t had a chance to ask her anything yet. She fainted when she found out she’d been sold.”

  “Motherfuck,” Hunter snarled, feeling the same amount of outrage Dylan was.

  “From what I did hear and see, she’s timid… definitely low-ranking as far as the pack is concerned.”

  His brother grunted. “Get her strong enough to transport, then get the hell out of the territory as soon as you’re able.”

  “I’m planning on leaving early tomorrow morning under the cover of darkness.”

  “Good. That should have you back early evening if everything goes according to plan.”

  Dylan slumped against the vanity. “Have you spoken to Rhett about what you’re going to do?”

  “Yeah.” Hunter grunted a little as he sat down. “The day after tomorrow, some of our enforcers are converging with his. We’re going to take Mitchell down now that you’ve confirmed the female was actually being held as Layla claimed. All we needed was the goddamn proof.”

  “You’ve got it,” Dylan replied, his voice low and rough with his wolf. “I never want to see another female like that again.”

  “I hear you, my brother. Tell Gia everything she needs to know. Feed her. Get her ready to move, and we’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay.” He hung up the phone and dropped it beside the basin. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the violent flashes of his wolf’s eyes staring back at him. The need for revenge was a lit fuse inside him, the strength of that feeling knocking his legs out from under him. His wolf was acting like Gia was his mate, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He’d already lost one female. He didn’t think he could lose Gia too. In fact, it was much safer if he ignored the instincts to mark her and just do his duty.

  But as a growl bubbled up in his throat, he knew there was no way in hell he could let that happen.

  Chapter Seven

  Gia’s eyes opened slowly. As a dimly lit room came into focus, she sat up. She was on a moldy old mattress that rocked with the movement, the springs squeaking when she shifted, so her back was against the headboard.

  This was not her room.

  This was not Mitchell’s basement.

  Glancing around, she tried to take stock of everything. It looked like a cheap motel. Then she remembered what Ben had said—she’d been sold like a piece of property, and the male who purchased her would take her to his motel. This must be where she was.

  Although panic threatened to take over, she calmed her breathing and looked down at her body. She was still in her shift, and her panties were also in place. She had not been touched, and she let out a relieved breath. It didn’t mean she could relax completely, but it did give her hope. If Diego didn’t touch her when she was unconscious, maybe he was a decent male.

  Or maybe he just liked it when his females screamed.

  That thought was not as encouraging.

  Scooting to the edge of the bed, she placed her bare feet down and dug her toes into the low-nap carpet. Somewhere across the room, the air conditioner kicked in, sending a wave of cool air across her face and arms. Standing, she glanced around the wall beside the bed. There was only one door in and out, along with just one window that was next to the front door.

  She padded to it, peeling back the drapes slowly. Peering out, she saw Tanner standing there, his back to the door, his arms behind his back. Was he there to make sure she didn’t escape or was it to make sure nobody else could get in? Tanner was another one of Mitchell’s Disciples of Bullshit. He’d been bitten and turned by Mitchell just like all the other wolves in his pack. She hadn’t had much to do with him, though. Ben was her primary caregiver when Mitchell wasn’t terrorizing her, and given the nature of her captivity, Mitchell wouldn’t let another male near her.

  According to Mitchell, Ben was safe to have around her because he wouldn’t try to take what he considered his. He was too loyal to his alpha to ‘fuck with what was his property.’

  “You’re awake.”

  She jerked away from the window, the drapes resettling into place and kicking up a decade’s worth of dust in the process. She sneezed into her elbow, her eyes already beginning to itch.

  Diego was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, steam rolling out around his feet. He was dressed only in a pair of sweats, and she found her gaze tracking down, down, down, to the ‘V’ near his hips.

  “Shit,” he muttered, ducking back into the bathroom and sliding his arms back into the black business shirt he’d been wearing before. “I should’ve thought. I apologize.”

  She frowned. His accent was gone. Biting her lip, she looked at the floor. He took a step toward her, and she stilled, barely drawing air in through her partially open mouth. Her instincts were shouting at her to run, to flee, but that desire warred with the predator/prey dynamic. If she ran, he’d give chase. It was inherent to their nature as werewolves.

  So, instead of running, she edged around the room, keeping her back to the wall until she reached the larger space where the bed was.

  Diego followed her, taking his steps carefully. She backed up until her knees hit the edge of the mattress, but she didn’t sit. When she finally stopped moving, he ran his hands through his dark hair and cursed.

  “Jesus, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said in a bass rumble. “I’m not like that fuck, Mitchell.”

  Swallowing, she replied, “Forgive me for not believing you.” Regret instantly flooded her. What was she thinking being combative? She didn’t hold any power in this dynamic.

  Snatching the TV remote off the end of the bed, he turned the set on and pumped up the volume until it felt like the sound was trying to claw its way into her head. She stared at him, bewildered, and blinked a few times. Was he turning the volume up so the guard outside couldn’t hear her scream?

  He studied her with a fierce expression on his face. “Look, Gia, I have something to tell you, and I need you to trust me.”

  Trust? He wanted her to trust him? He bought her from her alpha to use as he wanted.

  Before she could shake her head, he pushed on, “I’m not who you think I am. I’m not some Mexican wolf who bought you for sex. My name’s Dylan, and I’m the Captain of the Alfheim pack. Layla told us about you, and I’m here to rescue you from Mitchell.”

  The world seemed to shift beneath her feet as her brain tried to digest his words. He was there to save her? Her knees suddenly went weak, and she slumped against the wall, sliding down until her ass hit the thin carpet. Light-headed and confused, she stared at this male. She would’ve been inclined not to believe him at all, but he said Layla had told him about her.

  Layla had gotten out.

  She was safe.

  “How do you know Layla? Is she okay? Did she make it?” The questions tumbled from her mouth in a rush, but she was helpless to stop them.

  Diego’s
—no, Dylan’s—expression softened. “She did. She’s with my pack now, mated to my brother.”

  Mated? Hadn’t she only been gone a few days? How could she have found her mate in that time?

  “I don’t believe you,” she replied in a whisper.

  “Would you like to speak to her?” Before she could reply, he hustled back to the bathroom. When he returned, he had the phone in his hand, the shrill sound of a call connecting jostling for position with the sound of the TV. He handed her the device, and she stared at him for a moment longer before switching her gaze to the small screen.

  She stared at her reflection as she waited for the call to connect to someone called Riley. When it finally did, the black screen disappeared, and she sucked in a gasp.

  “Layla?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes. The other female looked good, a light in her eyes that wasn’t there before. Her smile was wide, and Gia could practically feel the joy bursting from her.

  “Oh, my goodness, Gia! I can’t believe it’s you. Did Dylan get you out of there?”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “Yes.” Glancing up, she found Dylan watching her with hard eyes. “I’m with him now.”

  “I know you have no reason to trust him, but he will get you out of this safely, Gia. I promise.”

  She kept her eyes on him. Swallowed. “I want to see you. I need to know if this… if this is real.”

  The other female’s face softened. “It’s real. I’m at the Alfheim pack house. You can see me as soon as Dylan brings you here.”

  He nodded slightly, confirming what Layla had said, but Gia couldn’t afford to just put her trust in people so easily. For now, she’d play along. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “I love you. Stay safe.”

  Gia smiled weakly. She didn’t know whether she could stay safe, not when Mitchell would do anything to get her back. “I love you, too.”

  She hung up and held the phone out to Dylan. He took it from her, their fingers brushing for a moment. He tucked the device back into his sweatpants’ pocket. “Do you believe me now?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She believed he was a better option than Mitchell. She believed he wouldn’t hurt her—at least not right away. Looking around the motel room, she asked, “What’s going to happen now? When can I leave?”

  Dylan scrubbed a hand over the back of his head, his eyes glued to her face. “I’m planning on getting you out of here early tomorrow morning.”

  “What about Tanner?”

  “There’ll be a shift change at some point. We’ll move then.”

  Fiddling with the thin fabric of her nightdress, she thought about the fact that she was getting out of there. She was going to be free.

  Glancing up at Dylan, she whispered, “And Ben?”

  Dylan’s eyes shifted so quickly with his wolf that she felt nauseous. “If I can get him out, too, I will… but you are my priority, Gia.”

  She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked the way her name fell from his lips. “Okay, so what are we supposed to do until we leave?”

  He scooped up the remote for the TV and turned the volume down. “This thing only gets four channels, so we can try to find something to watch while we eat.”

  Food, she thought wistfully. She hoped he had something better than meal replacement shakes and fruit. She watched him as he dug through one of the duffels, fixated on the flex and ripple of the muscles in his forearms as he moved. When he turned back around, he held a couple of packets of beef jerky.

  Shifting into a more comfortable position, she folded one leg beneath her, the motion making the end of her shift ride up. Dylan’s eyes blazed as they locked onto the bare skin of her thigh, heat spilling from his gaze. His eyes flashed with an almost manic speed, alternating between his human green and his wolf’s red.

  Turning away, she pulled down the hem, covering as much skin as she could. If he was fighting for dominance over his wolf, looking at him would only make that battle more difficult. As she waited for his breathing to calm, she thought about how Mitchell had looked at her—like she was something he could beat into submission, but that was not the way Dylan was looking at her now.

  He was looking at her like he wanted to feast on her body.

  And she wanted to let him.

  “Here,” he said gruffly, shoving one of the beef jerky packets beneath her nose. “Eat. The protein will help build your strength.”

  Holding out a shaking hand, she took what he was offering, wondering how much Layla had told her about her situation.

  “Thank you,” she replied softly, reaching into the already opened packet and pulling out one of the strips of dried meat. She eyed it with caution. How would her body react to the shift in caloric density?

  “Is everything okay?”

  Dylan’s question caught her off guard, and she turned to look at him. He was chewing slowly, his jaw working furiously like it was more than just food he was working on.

  “I’m fine.”

  His gaze darted to the jerky in her hand then back to her face. “Is there’s a problem with the food? You don’t like jerky?”

  Gia flinched from his harsh tone, immediately chastising herself for doing it. Six years of conditioning had done that to her—six years of living with a narcissist who had a penchant for torture and creating ways to hurt a woman.

  “Jesus, I’m not going to—” Whatever he was going to say, he stopped himself just as quickly. Sucking in a breath, he let it go and said, “I can go and get you something else.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She could tell by his expression that he was trying very hard not to just dominate her with his wolf getting in his way. She appreciated that, especially since everyone in her pack, with the exception of Ben, had done that to get her to comply.

  Survival was different from giving in.

  She had not done as she was told because of compulsion. She’d done what she had to do to ensure she got another day, another meal, another privilege like seeing Layla, or perhaps a new set of pajamas or shift. She wasn’t an idiot. She understood how to barter, how to get what she needed, even if it wasn’t freedom she gained.

  But would Dylan understand that?

  “I might be sick after I eat this.” She gestured to the jerky still clutched tightly in her hand.

  “Are you allergic?” His question was low and calm, but his expression was enraged.

  She shuffled over a little bit, placing more distance between them. A familiar fear wrapped around her throat, its fingers tightening.

  “Gia? Why would it make you sick?”

  She blinked. From the exasperation in his voice, it sounded as if he’d been asking her for a while. Her eyes darted to his face then away. “I’ve survived on meal replacement shakes and fruit for the past six years.”

  His brows shot up. “That’s it?”

  “Occasionally, Ben snuck me in something more substantial, but it wasn’t often. My body is simply not used to food anymore.”

  “Fuck,” he cursed, staring at her like she was a puzzle he wanted to solve. “I can try and find you something else, but I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  That was also the last thing she wanted. If he left, Mitchell would probably renege on the deal he’d struck and have her returned to the packhouse. “I’ll be fine.”

  She hoped she’d be fine.

  Sucking in a breath, she took her first small bite and chewed slowly, methodically, and prayed her body didn’t reject it. She swallowed, then waited. When nothing happened for five minutes, she took another bite and another and another until half the strip was gone.

  She placed what was left back into the packet.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Fine for now,” she replied, placing a hand to her stomach as if that could keep it all in there. “I guess we wait.”

  He grunted and took another bite, the strong muscles in his jaw working overtime. “Would you like to take a shower, change your clothes? Ben packed you some
. I put your bag inside the closet by the door.”

  Bobbing her head, she stood and walked over to the closet. Sure enough, a small bag had been packed with her things. She took the whole thing into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and locking it.

  She simply stood there for a moment, her mind whirring.

  She was free.

  After six years of captivity, she was free.

  She knew she wasn’t completely unmarred by her experiences, but she’d survived.

  And as she stripped out of her shift and panties, she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

  Free.

  Chapter Eight

  Dylan finished off the bag of jerky and dumped the wrapper in the trash. It was barely two in the afternoon, which left them about twelve hours to kill before he made his move. Although his gut reaction, and his wolf, were both telling him to leave when they had their chance, he also had to think about possible ways to get Ben out of there too.

  Walking to the window, he pulled back the drapes and found that Tanner wasn’t standing there anymore. Shifting his gaze to his car, he found the bastard sitting in the driver’s seat, his rear-view mirror angled to the door to the room. This was a good thing. This gave Dylan a chance to get Gia out of there without too much trouble.

  As he listened to the water start in the shower, he tried to get the image of Gia’s bare thigh from his mind. He hadn’t meant to stare, but even in the short time he’d been with her, it felt as if his wolf was pulling the strings of his feelings more and more.

  Dylan’s MO as an enforcer was anger and fear, but with her, he knew he couldn’t use fear to get shit done. She needed a gentle touch, but he wasn’t stupid enough to mistake her need for weakness. She’d already proven she wasn’t weak. He doubted he would’ve come out as well adjusted from six years of captivity and sexual abuse.

  He walked back to the chair opposite the bed and turned up the volume a little on the TV. He tuned out, watching some home renovation show for a while until Gia cleared her throat.

  Turning to face her, he drank her in. Her chocolate brown hair was still damp, the ends dripping with water that landed on the shoulders of her long-sleeved shirt. She was wearing a pair of baggy jeans that looked like they were more suited to a guy. She still looked fucking beautiful to him, though.