Raised by Wolves(15)

“Marcus will be angry with me,” I said, trying to prove that I wasn’t completely ignorant of the inevitable consequences of my actions.

“He’ll be furious—and not just with you,” Sora said, checking her knots and making sure that I wasn’t going anywhere.

“He’ll be angry with himself, and with you, and with Ali, because you’re her responsibility.”

Callum had Marked me, but as far as the pack was concerned, I was Ali’s daughter. If Marcus hadn’t hated Ali for her own sake, he would have hated her for mine.

“He’ll be furious with Ali, and he’ll be in her house. While she’s giving birth. She’s in enough danger as it is. She doesn’t need Marcus adding to it.”

My mouth went instantly dry. “Callum would … Callum would never let Marcus hurt her.”

“The odds are against her, Bryn. Do you really think having a homicidal werewolf in her house is going to help? He may not strike out at Ali directly, but his being there will hurt her, I promise you that.”

What had I done?

“I didn’t—” I cut off, swallowed, and tried again. “I swear I didn’t …”

I wasn’t sure how to fill in the blank. I didn’t know? I didn’t think? I didn’t mean to?

“I know,” Sora said, sounding more like the woman I knew. “I’ll go after him. I’m faster, but he has a head start. You’ll be here when I get back.” And then, like Marcus, she was gone, and I was alone, tied to a kitchen appliance in Callum’s house, dully agonizing over the fact that I’d just sent a raging werewolf Ali’s way. What if Marcus distracted the doctor?

What if the stress was more than Ali’s broken body could take?

I’d promised to be good. I’d lied. I’d broken my end of the bargain, and Fate was angry. I didn’t want anybody else to die because of me.



Homicidal werewolf. Sora’s words rang in my ears, and my brain provided the accompanying visual.

Homicidal werewolf. Mommy. Blood-blood-blood-blood-blood.

Logically, I knew that I’d had nothing to do with my parents’ death—that it wasn’t my fault that I’d survived the attack and they hadn’t—but the thoughts in my head had stopped making sense, the words dissolving into nonsense, images crumbling into nothing. As time ticked on, I forced myself to stand ramrod straight, because I desperately wanted to slump and refused to allow myself even that small relief.

I don’t know how long I stood there. My muscles started aching, and words returned to me, and I just kept telling myself, over and over again, that if everything was okay, I’d never do something stupid again.

And then I heard the noise.

Screaming.

Words.

“Is somebody up there? Please! Please, help me. Can you hear me? Can anybody hear me?”

Somebody was in Callum’s basement, and that somebody needed help. I knew I shouldn’t respond, knew that anyone in Callum’s basement was there for a reason. The yelling degenerated from words into sounds, and that was what made up my mind, because the wordless howling struck a chord with me. Whoever was down there sounded like I felt. It didn’t matter who it was or what he’d done. I had to help him, because it wasn’t like I could do a thing for myself. Or for Ali.

I swung my bound ankles upward and twisted to angle my feet toward Callum’s kitchen drawers—and in particular, his knife drawer. I pressed my heel against the drawer knob and pulled. A well-placed kick sent the contents of the drawer flying, and I eyed the largest of the knives. Straining against the ties that held me in place, I managed to slide the knife closer. I caught the handle between my heels, and stretched my hands down to meet them.

Success.

As I began cutting through the restraints, the sound of inhuman screams echoing in my mind, I tried not to think about the fact that my vow to abstain from stupidity had lasted for all of forty-five seconds.





CHAPTER FIVE


I HALF-EXPECTED SORA AND MARCUS TO RETURN before I managed to get myself untied, but either she hadn’t caught up to him in time and there was major damage control to do, or she’d successfully intercepted him on the way to Ali’s but had been forced to throw down in order to keep him from coming back here and tearing out my jugular. Either way, it didn’t look like the cavalry was going to be stopping me from my endless pursuit of stupidity anytime soon.

Rubbing my wrists, which had gone numb under the duct tape, I took a baby step away from the refrigerator and the remains of my common sense. Callum’s basement had always been off-limits to me, and I wasn’t dumb enough to believe the restriction was in place because that was where he hid my Christmas presents.