Chapter 4

Isla's POV

The next day, even though the post online had been taken down, enough people had still seen it to be interested in my bakery.

They all excitedly told me about it as they came into the shop, as well as made promises to leave good reviews and their own glowing praises about my breads online.

I didn't know how to tell them not to, though I did request that no photos be taken, even hanging a few signs in the bakery requesting privacy.

Pictures of the bread were fine! But please no pictures of the baker.

The large impact the original post had made in such a short amount of time left me uneasy, and I made many mistakes throughout the day, lingering fear driving me to distraction.

Fortunately, most people brushed it off as me simply being nervous at having such a big, unexpected crowd in my shop.

No one knew the truth, not even Martha, who when she came in for her usual morning coffee and croissant, noticed my worry and tried to reassure me, "It was such a short post, and it's gone now. Unless you have some stalker who was constantly tracking your name, such a post would easily go unnoticed."

She laughed like it was a joke.

"The crowd will dwindle soon, and things will be back to normal before long," she said.

I nodded and rang up her typical order.

As she left, I tried to calm herself with her words. Yes, it had been such a small post. The internet was a huge place, and I never knew Adrian to be a foodie.

He would only have seen that post if he had been obsessively searching for my name online even after all these years.

But surely he wasn't doing that. It had been five years without a word. Likely he had already forgotten all about me, this traitor.

I tried to push the worry out of my mind. With how busy I was, it was easy to drown myself in work, pushing the worries to the back of my mind.

Before I knew it, it was closing time. I finished ringing up the last customer, then started counting my drawer.

After depositing the profits for today in a safe just inside the back office, I came back into the shop to walk around the counter and lock up for the night.

This had been my typical nightly routine since taking over the bakery.

Only today, as I returned to the counter, several large men stepped in through the front door.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," I said, hoping they were just customers, despite how they looked.

In my chest, my heart started to pick up speed. My wolf was immediately on alert. These weren't just men stopping into the bakery on the way home from their jobs.

These were werewolves.

"You will come with us," said one of the werewolves, approaching the counter. "You know the reason why."

I swallowed hard.

I quickly lowered my head, acting obedient, attempting to come off as non-aggressive.

"I need just a moment to change and close up the shop," I said. "Then I will come with you."

The werewolf grunted, which I took to mean he would give me a minute, though he seemed obviously displeased about it.

They must have been told to come get me and where, but not the nature of my business here. They probably didn't know that I owned this shop, and thought instead that I was just an employee.

As werewolves were wary of humans, careful to keep ourselves hidden, it would be natural for them to want me to close up everything normally, to not draw suspicion from any humans I might work with.

Nodding, I turned and rushed to the back office. I tossed aside my apron, then called Martha.

"Hello?"

"Martha, thank the Gods," I said. "Please, I need you to pick up Noah and keep him safe. I will find a way to contact you later. I don't know when. Soon, I hope. Maybe we can reunite in another city."

"What are you talking about?" Martha asked. "Isla, what's going on?"

There wasn't time for the whole story, and, as I was still loyal to the werewolves, whether they believed it or not, I wasn't going to reveal their secrets, not even now.

But I had to tell her something, so a human-coated version of the truth would do.

"I've been on the run, Martha," I said. "I've been hiding from people who want me dead."

"Oh my God, Isla. The post…" Martha gasped. "Should I call the police?"

"No," I said. Conflicts in the werewolf world wouldn't be solved by involving human authorities. Doing so might only expose Noah. "He doesn't know about Noah," I said. "Please, I'm begging. Just keep him safe. I will call again when I can."

"What are you going to do?" Martha asked.

"Escape."

When I had been a member of the pack, as the daughter of the Beta couple, I had trained to be a warrior, and had even been one of the strongest warriors of them all.

Though years had passed since I had undergone the grueling training of a wolf, I still went to the gym regularly to maintain my strength.

If I could see a chance or make one, I was going to try to run.

The alternative, I knew, was death.

Why Adrian didn't have his enforcers simply kill me on sight remained a mystery, but I had no doubt that was what awaited me once I was wherever they wanted to take me.

"If this is some kind of legal trouble, I can call my son," Martha said. "He's a bigshot lawyer now, and you know he likes you. One phone call, and he can be your legal counsel."

"Hey!" one of the werewolves called from outside my office door. He smashed his fist against it so hard, the wood creaked. "Time's up! Get out here."

"Isla?" Martha asked, panic rising in her voice. Even with the door muffling the loud voice, Martha must have still been able to hear it and the pounding of his fist on the door.

"Open up! Or I will break this door down!"

My body trembling, even my voice shook as I said, "Take care of Noah. Please."

I hung up and tucked it into my pocket, hoping it would go unnoticed as the brutes broke the door, smashing it clear off the hinges.

Wood splintered as most of the door fell flat onto the ground. The brute stepping through, growled, "No more games, traitor."

He roughly grabbed me by arm and dragged me out of the office, through the kitchen and then through the shop.

Outside, he tossed me down onto the sidewalk right in front of a running white van. The back door was open, and two more enforcers stood there, glaring at me.

I couldn't let them get me into that van. I knew that would be the end.

I glanced down the sidewalk. It was empty, no humans in sight.

Seeing my only shot, I darted forward, running as fast as my legs would take me up the sidewalk.