Chapter 4: Sutton

The soft sound of classical music drifted over me. I had been entangled in a sweet dream filled with comfort and love. A foreign but wonderful sensation kept invading my mind making me want to hold onto the feeling as long as I could. Unfortunately, I felt myself being pulled back to consciousness. I let my eyes flutter open.

I was in an unfamiliar room lit with the natural light of the sun. I let my eyes adjust and turned toward the sound of a muffled voice. There was a set of glass double doors that led out to what looked like a balcony. A tall, broad man in a suit stood outside talking on the phone. My heart rate quickened. I couldn’t make out who he was with his back to me. If I knew him at all.

I vaguely remembered speaking to someone before the world went black. It was a man. A man with piercing hazel eyes. I didn’t remember much else. I didn’t know what happened to me after that.

I looked down. My left arm was splinted down to my last two fingers. There was a bandage wrapping my upper right arm and an IV line attached to the back of my hand. I was tucked into a comfortable bed with a tray of medical supplies sitting next to it. A laptop was set up on a folding table and chair nearby. It all seemed nice enough, but why bring me here? Why wasn’t I in a hospital?

I sat up cautiously. Wincing as multiple sources of pain sparked to life.

“You shouldn’t try to get up yet.”

I jumped in surprise, grimacing from the sudden movement.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, taking a step toward me. I shifted away and he stopped. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Where am I?” I croaked out hoarsely.

The man walked to a side table and poured a glass of water. Moving to the side of the bed, he held it out to me.

“Somewhere safe,” he said.

I took the glass. I made an effort to avoid touching him. He took a step back, thankfully giving me some space. I took a drink of the water. Too thirsty to question the contents. The man sat at the table, but his eyes stayed on me intently.

“The doctor will be here in a little while to check on you,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. It would be calming in any other circumstance. “She’ll be glad to find you awake.”

“How long have I been asleep?” I asked, only slightly clearer than before.

“Two days,” he said.

I chewed the inside of my lip nervously. I had lost two days. I had no idea where I was. Who this man was or what he wanted with me. I took another drink of water, clearing my throat.

“May I ask who you are?” I asked. “I’d like to know who I have to thank for saving me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “My name is Lucas Danvers.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. I knew that name. I shifted in the bed, moving away from him.

“As in… Alpha Lucas Danvers?”

I had heard Mason and Alpha Anders talk about him several times. Alpha Lucas had taken over the Ironpaw Pack after defeating the previous Alpha in combat. From what I heard, it was a hostile takeover. Alpha Anders and Beta Mason seemed to… admire the brutality in which he accomplished his task. More than once, they discussed how formidable he was. They even seemed weary of dealing with him.

And now I was at his mercy. The most dangerous Alpha in Lycuria. A man even my sadistic ex-mate didn’t want to cross. Panic filled my chest.

He shifted forward in his chair and I leapt into action. Rolling from under the blankets, I grabbed a pair of scissors from the tray of medical supplies. Putting the bed between us, I jumped out, holding the scissors up.

“Stay away,” I threatened as he stood. “You can’t keep me here. I won’t let you. I’ll die before I become a plaything for another damn wolf.”

His eyes darkened. My words sounded strong but the tears started to fall without my say. My hands were shaking. I had ripped the IV out of my hand and blood was currently running down my wrist.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Alpha Lucas said softly but firmly, his hands raised in surrender. “I told you. You’re safe here. I swear.”

He took a slow step toward me, then another. I moved toward the door, only managing small steps as my stiff, sore body was slow to respond. I was still weak and days in bed hadn’t helped. My knees started to shake and the edges of my vision blurred. I tried to force my feet to move but felt my legs giving out beneath me instead.

Strong arms surrounded me before I hit the floor. I gasped as a tingling electricity shot through my body where he touched me. He lifted me up and set me on the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of me.

“I told you not to get up,” he scolded, taking my bleeding hand. “We won’t be getting an IV back in this one. Hopefully you haven’t pulled your stitches.”

Taking the scissors from me, he reached over and took some gauze from the tray and dabbed at my hand, holding it firmly to stop the bleeding. Confusion washed through me at his attentiveness. He seemed upset that I had injured myself. I didn’t understand what was going on. Why would he care?

“There,” he said as he placed an adhesive bandage on my hand. “Now, I think it’s my turn to ask your name.”

Our eyes met and my heart skipped a beat. I cleared my throat, removing my hand from his. I honestly had no idea what was going on. The fear I had been filled with seemed to dissipate. This couldn’t be the same man I had heard about.

Whoever he was, there was no point denying his request.

“My name is Sutton Langston.”