“The trouble is, I know what will happen if I stay,” I said softly.
In the distance, I heard my father call him.
There was a faint thump as Alan’s forehead bumped the door. I could picture him standing there, his dark eyes closed in frustration, his jaw set.
“Sosh…” he said, and there was raw emotion in his voice that I hadn’t heard for a long time, since before our pack beat it out of him.
“I’ll be fine,” I promised him. “I’ll see you again one day.”
“I’ll find a way to get you out.”
“I know you will.”
I didn’t. But he had to keep moving, and maybe if he believed that, it would help for now.
There was no reason for both our lives to end tonight.
“Bye.” His voice came out brittle. He was trying to collect himself, and he had to, because our father called him.
“Goodbye.” I couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the door, but I was sure he’d moved away. I felt alone.
My overnight bag was open on my bed, exposing a few other clothes, a book, photos, my toiletries. I’d packed a bag, although I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to take it, and I ran my hand across its contents absently, trying to think if there was anything else I should even try to bring. I didn’t think I’d be allowed to have much.
Dread churned in my stomach. I didn’t know anything about what was coming, but I knew it wasn’t good.
It was supposed to be enough to keep girls like me in line, after all.
My gaze fell to the knife on my nightstand. My hunting knife—every shifter knows how to make the most of their kill when they wake with it in the morning—must be what Alan feared I’d hurt myself with. He must be able to imagine me slitting my own wrists rather than facing the two choices that life offered me.
There was the faintest sound behind me. I whirled, grabbing the knife off my nightstand.
The slender guy from the car slammed me into the wall. He grabbed my throat in one hand, my wrist with the knife in the other, pinning me against the wall. His fingers squeezed almost painfully tight on my throat, but his focus was on the knife in my hand.
“Drop it,” he murmured into my ear, his voice low and intimately close. “You don’t want to hurt me, lass.”
He had an accent, a Scottish accent that I hadn’t expected in such a warm, roughly masculine voice.
I hesitated, then released my fingers. The sheathed blade fell to the floor.
“How’d you get in here?” I looked from the knife to his face as his grip on my throat eased.
I’d wondered what color their eyes were. This close, I could see they were gray, a shade flecked with silver. Combined with his sharp but handsome features—cheekbones so high that it hurt to look at, a short, sharp nose, a nicely-shaped mouth above a firm jaw—it gave his face a mischievous cast.
“I picked your lock,” he said. “Should I have asked you to let me in?”
“You might be less likely to be knifed that way.” My voice came out steady, despite the fear beating in my chest, and I wondered why I’d just said that. I didn’t need to make him mad.
“I’m fast,” he promised me. “I was never in much danger.”
Those gray eyes seemed to bore through mine, and I felt the same wayward flush of heat, as if the intensity of his gaze overwhelmed me.
“If I’m not dangerous, there’s no reason to take me to prison,” I said. My voice came out hot. “And yet, here you are.”
“No one said you were dangerous,” he said mildly. “Just...disobedient.”
He released me, taking a step back and reached down to pick up my knife in one quick, practiced movement, his gaze never leaving mine.
“And for that, I deserve to be locked away with criminals?”
“It’s not up to me to decide what you deserve,” he said, but his gaze was kind. “Come on, lass. Time to go.”
The other man, the one with the big shoulders and the dark hair, loomed in the doorway. He was even bigger than I’d thought when I watched him from the car.
“Do you need help with the girl?” His accent was American, as boring as mine.
“Do I ever need your help?”
“Yup.” The dark-haired man’s gaze locked with mine. He had piercing blue eyes. “Often.”
“I’m just trying to convince our new friend here to come along quietly,” he said.
Blue Eyes studied me. “Her family is waiting downstairs. There’s a lot of them.”
Her family? He could talk to me. I met his gaze, my chin tilting up under the pressure of his gaze.
Maybe he saw that, because the next thing he asked was, “What do they expect from you?”
It took me a second to find my voice. “Surrender.”
It’s what I’d expected from myself, honestly. I’d thought that I’d have to cave eventually. I knew I was making things worse and yet I couldn’t stop hoping that somehow, I’d come up with a way out of this situation. And yet time had kept spinning on, and I’d settled into a trap I’d made myself.
“You think you could go down there now and tell them that you changed your mind and we’d just drive off,” Blue Eyes said.
I stared at him, my lips parting. It felt like my stomach had just dropped.
The first man glanced from me to him and back again. “You could,” he said. “Don’t mind him. He likes playing with people’s heads.”
Blue Eyes finally ripped his gaze away from mine. I hadn’t realized that I’d all but stopped breathing until I drew a shuddering breath.
“Tick tock,” he said, patting the watch around his wrist. “If you’re going to be a good girl and accept the life they chose for you, you’d best walk out this door and go beg them for it.”
He stepped to one side, sweeping his arm toward the door.
I looked to the man
