“That was a good effort,” a voice I don’t recognize comes from behind me. I jerk my head to look at the man who has suddenly appeared. The smell of smoke fills the room. Not the scent of a cigarette or bonfire, no, this odor is different, not easily identifiable, just the smell of something burning that disappears as quickly as it appeared. “However, those chains are charmed with magic,” he says. “And there’s no getting out of them.”
The tall, lanky man walks to the side of the table where I’m able to see him better. He has a dark olive complexion that is shockingly perfect. His hair is black, not just a really dark brown, but black, and it shorn short on the sides. The style reminds me of Ryker’s, but this man’s hair is much longer on top and pushed back. Some longer tendrils fall forward onto his forehead and around his face. He’s actually very striking. His face is all sharp angles, with chiseled cheekbones and a defined jawline, although it’s not his face that captures my attention. It’s his eyes. They’re violet.
“Who are you?” I ask, then, “What are you?”
The man smiles down at me with perfectly straight and white teeth. “Are we allowed to go around asking people what they are? Seems a bit… intrusive, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, well, I’m tied to a table. All my manners went out the window the second Nicolai punched me in the face.” I sneer.
“Well, you can hardly tell where he punched you.” The man examines my face. “You’re a fast healer. Which is good. You’re going to need that little skill with what his plans are for you.”
“What are his plans for me?” I narrow my eyes at the man.
“For starters, he needs to force the shift onto you.”
“Well, jokes on him. I can’t shift. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
The man’s eyes flash with an emotion I can only pinpoint as pity before he sighs. “He’s going to torture you, and he will keep torturing you until your wolf makes her grand entrance.”
I figured it would be something like that. Since my wolf has a tendency to break through in highly stressful or highly emotional moments, what better way to force her out then by hurting or torturing me?
“You never answered my question.” I stare up at him. “Who are you? What are you? And I also want to know why you’re here?”
“My name is Jax. I’m a demon, and I’ve been asked to help torture you.”
35
Ryker
They ended up losing the helicopter almost immediately, which wasn’t surprising. But they did see it headed east. It’s a start, but not enough to know where Nicolai is holding Pruitt.
It’s been ten hours since I watched Nicolai drag her away from me, and every hour that she’s gone, my anger and the darkness surrounding my heart grows.
I took that anger out on my room. I tore everything off the walls and threw it all either back at the walls or sent it smashing into the floor. I even shattered my bedroom window, and the curtains that are partially ripped off the walls wave in the breeze coming in from outside.
I stand in the ruins, leaning against my dresser, staring at myself in the cracked mirror that hangs crookedly above it. The person who I thought died when I found Pruitt, stares back at me. He looks a lot like me, but his blue eyes are empty. There’s no light or happiness there anymore. My hair is standing up on my head in every direction from where I kept reaching up and grabbing it in frustration, and Pru’s words float into my mind.
“I love your hair.”
I hear it over and over again as I storm into my bathroom and pull the clippers out of the drawer. I hear it still as I bring the clippers up to my head and run them through my hair. Flashes of that night we spent together at the house come to my mind. Images of her reaching up and tangling her fingers in my hair appear as the locks fall into the sink below.
“Don’t ever cut it.”
I had promised her I wouldn’t cut it, but she’s not here to stop me. She’s not here to make sure I hold up my promise. She’s not here to keep the darkness at bay. She’s not here to make me smile or laugh. She’s just not here.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the bathroom mirror, and it shatters into pieces. My head drops, and I breathe heavily, standing in the mess of glass and cut hair.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and I find Remington standing there. If she’s shocked at the state of my room and what I’ve done to myself, she doesn’t say. Instead, she holds up a flash drive in her hand.
“She gave this to me,” Remi explains. “I promised her I would make you watch it.”
“Watch what?” I growl.
“I don’t know. Let’s go find out.”
Remington drags me downstairs and forces me to sit down in the living room with the rest of the family. I refuse to look at my father or at Sawyer, who has also joined us as Remi plugs the flash drive into the television so we can all watch what Pru has left us.
“Hey, guys.” Her beautiful face appears on the screen, and my stomach sinks. “I know you are all really confused and upset with us—with me, but I want you to know I didn’t make this decision lightly or easily. I want nothing more than to be sitting there with you all right now, but I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Remington or to the pack.”
I remove my eyes from the screen for a second and look at my sister. I wonder
