CHAPTER 2

KAYE'S POV

I climb into the van.

My legs shake so badly I nearly fall. The lean one follows me inside, and I see the silver cuffs in his hand a second before they snap closed around my wrists.

The pain is instant.

Silver against skin burns and freezes at the same time, like my nerves are being scraped raw. I gasp and try to pull back, but he holds my wrists steady until the locks click. Then he lets go. I clutch my hands to my chest, biting down on a scream.

“Sorry,” he says. He sounds like he means it. “But you are the daughter of a mass murderer, and we are not taking chances.”

The doors slam shut.

Darkness swallows the van except for a thin line of light at the seam. The engine starts. We move.

The cuffs keep burning. I can smell my own skin cooking under the metal. I close my eyes and focus on breathing because if I let myself think, I will break.

Ethan Rivers rebuilt his pack on revenge. Everyone knows that. And now he has me.

I am going to die.

My wolf howls inside me, raw and hopeless. I let her. No one can hear.

Time stretches and twists. Minutes blur into hours. Pain becomes a constant hum. At some point my wrists start bleeding. At some point I realize I am crying. I do not remember when it started.

When the van finally stops, daylight crashes into my eyes. Hands grab my arms and drag me out. My legs barely work. They hold me up anyway.

Mountains surround us. Pines. Clean air. Wolves.

So many wolves.

Their scents layer over each other until my wolf wants to submit and hide at the same time. The packhouse rises ahead of me, massive and solid, built of stone and wood. It is nothing like the ruins I imagined. This place is alive. Strong.

They pull me up the steps and through the doors.

Inside smells like coffee and something sharp beneath it. Wolves line the halls, watching. Some look angry. Some curious. One woman spits near my feet. Someone mutters monster.

I keep my eyes forward.

The lean one knocks on a door. A voice answers.

“Come in.”

They shove me inside.

I stumble and catch myself. The office is large. Bookshelves. Weapons mounted like trophies. A desk by the window.

Behind it sits Ethan Rivers.

He is younger than I expected. Mid twenties maybe. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. Storm gray eyes. Handsome in a way that does not feel safe. There is something hard about him, something carved by loss.

He looks at me without expression.

Other wolves stand around the room. I feel their stares, but I cannot look away from him.

Then he stands.

The air shifts.

My wolf surges forward, sharp and sudden. For a terrifying second, I think I am about to shift. Ethan stops a few feet away from me. Close enough that I can smell him. Wolf.

His face changes.

So does mine.

The mate bond hits like lightning.

My world tilts. Every sense locks onto him. Mine, my wolf cries. Mate. Protect.

I stagger back into the wall. Ethan freezes, shock flashing across his face. The bond thrums between us, loud and insistent, pulling us together.

No. This cannot be real.

I feel his emotions spill through the connection. Rage. Confusion. Want. Horror. All tangled together.

No one else moves. They feel something is wrong, but they do not understand.

Ethan’s hands clench. His jaw tightens.

Then he moves.

He crosses the space and slams me against the wall, his hand at my throat. Not crushing, but close enough that my breath stutters. My head hits wood.

“You,” he says, his voice rough, “are going to tell me everything your father did. Every order. Every death. Then I will decide how you die.”

The bond screams for him to stop. For me to reach for him. He ignores it.

“My father did not do it,” I say, barely able to breathe. “He was framed. I was trying to find out who—”

“Liar,” Ethan snarls. His grip tightens just enough to hurt. “We found his scent on the accelerants. His markers at the ignition points. The bodies were still burning. Children.”

His voice cracks, then hardens again.

“It was not him,” I sob. My wrists burn. My throat aches. The bond pulls at me like a wound. “Please. He would never—”

Ethan leans close. His eyes flash gold.

“You will stay here,” he says. “You will work. You will obey. You will not leave the grounds. If you run, I will hunt you down and make your death last.”

I nod because I cannot speak.

He releases me and steps back fast, like touching me hurts him too.

“Take her to the servant quarters,” he tells the enforcers. “Silver ankle cuff with a boundary trigger. Wolfsbane if she crosses it.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

He looks at me once more. Something flickers in his eyes. Then it is gone.

“Get her out of my sight.”

They drag me away. I do not fight.

As the door closes, I see Ethan turn his back, rigid and shaking, fighting a bond neither of us wanted.

The bond hums between us.

Unbreakable.

Tying me to the man who wants me dead.