She stepped out of the car, her thoughts consumed by plans for escape. She needed to choose a destination carefully. Once she was a rogue, there would be no going back. A country without a natural wolf population seemed safest. Other shifters wouldn’t bother her so long as she posed no threat to their territory.
Somewhere quiet. Somewhere small. Somewhere with a forest where Tyler and her children could run freely. Her mind drifted to practicalities—her law degree was an asset. Contract law was always in demand, even if divorce law wasn’t an option. Speaking three languages opened doors, and if law wasn’t viable, she could work as a translator. She had skills, options. She could make this work.
But as she reached for the building entrance, her world shattered.
A cloth clamped over her mouth, and a fierce arm locked around her waist, yanking her backwards against a solid, unyielding body.
She hadn’t seen anything. Heard anything. Smelled anything. She’d been so lost in her thoughts, so distracted by her plans, that she hadn’t sensed the danger lurking.
Her startled gasp drew in a sharp, deep breath of whatever was soaked into the cloth. The acrid, chemical scent filled her lungs, and the edges of her vision blurred instantly.
Tyler!
Her wolf snarled, her claws ripping free of Bella’s fingertips in a desperate attempt to fight back. But before they could strike, a sharp sting lanced into the side of her neck.
Then came the burn.
A searing, fiery pain coursed through her veins, spreading like wildfire, numbing her limbs and dulling her senses. “No!” she tried to scream, but the sound barely made it past her lips.
The darkness came fast, rushing to claim her.
Her last thought before the void consumed her was not of fear, but of regret, her heart breaking with the weight of it.
“My babies… I’m sorry.”
And then there was nothing.
Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as though weighed down by lead. The simple act of opening them was the hardest thing in the world. Minutes ticked by before she managed to hold them open long enough to focus on her surroundings.
She was lying on her right side, her body sluggish and unresponsive. Panic bubbled up as she realized her arms were bound tightly behind her back.
Tyler, she called out desperately, reaching for her wolf.
Nothing.
Not even the faintest whisper of her presence.
Her heart sank. Drugged with wolfsbane—she could feel its lingering effects dulling her connection to Tyler. Worse, the burning pain radiating from her wrists told her she was restrained with silver cuffs. Completely severed from her wolf, she was as vulnerable as a human.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she forced herself to focus. She needed to understand the situation. She was lying on the cold, metallic floor of what appeared to be a moving van. The vehicle’s vibrations rumbled beneath her, and dim light flickered from a single overhead bulb.
She was still wearing her clothes—a skirt and blouse—and, mercifully, there was no pain to suggest she’d been assaulted while unconscious. Thank the goddess for small mercies. But how long had she been out? Hours? A full day? She had no way to know.
Her mind immediately went to her children. The triplets had been with their nanny, Suzzy. How long would it take for Suzzy to realize something was wrong? Would she stay with the kids or call for help?
Stop it, she told herself firmly. Suzzy is dependable. She loves the triplets, and we pay her well. She’ll stay with them. She’ll handle it.
She had to believe that. She had to stay calm. Survival depended on it.
If she didn’t return home or show up to work, someone would eventually call the police. The human authorities might not carry much weight in the Wolfen world, but packs still had to tread carefully when it came to human interference. That might buy her some time—if she could stay alive long enough.
The van jolted, and a heavy boot pressed against her chest, flipping her onto her back.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a gravelly male voice drawled, amusement dripping from every word. “What did you do, I wonder?” He chuckled, the sound low and mocking.
Bella stared up at him, her mind racing. The interior of the van was dark, but she could make out his broad silhouette looming over her. She couldn’t tell if it was night outside or if the van’s design was meant to keep anyone from seeing in.
Her blouse and skirt offered no protection, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She had no strength, no wolf, no real defense—except her wits.
And her stilettos.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I have children.”
Wolves were naturally paternal, fiercely protective of their mates and offspring. She had to appeal to that instinct, to his humanity—if there was any left. “Three children,” she added. “Please, let me go.”
The man frowned, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at her. For a moment, she thought her words might be working. Then, with a casual shrug, he said, “Sorry. Paid already.”
His voice had turned cold, devoid of emotion, as though he’d flipped a switch to shut himself off from her plea.
“They’re just five,” she said, her desperation rising. “They don’t have a dad.”
The man frowned again, his gaze lingering on her longer this time. She could see the hesitation in his eyes. He was troubled, wavering. Maybe he wasn’t as hardened as he pretended to be.
But then he shrugged again, his expression hardening. “Not my problem, lady.”
Even as he spoke, the flicker of concern in his eyes gave her a sliver of hope. But whether it was the money or his sense of duty to whoever had hired him, he seemed determined to ignore her pleas.
Bella swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain calm. She needed another strategy—and fast.
Bella struggled to sit upright, her movements slow and deliberate. The man watched her warily, but he didn’t make a move to stop her. To him, she was no threat—no wolf, no strength, bound by silver cuffs. She was just a helpless woman at his mercy.
What he didn’t know was that Bella had been preparing for this moment her entire life.
Her father, a high-ranking warrior, had drilled her from the age of five. To him, she had always been his “precious princess,” but he’d been determined to make sure she could defend herself. Every day, he’d trained her without relying on a wolf, preparing her for the worst.
