The Lost Wolf's Destiny

Once she was clean, she dried herself off and brushed her teeth. She towel dried her hair as best she could, not wanting to use the blow-dryer that had been so thoughtfully provided, in case the noise woke Hailey.

She had a bit of her own makeup that she’d brought with her in her purse, so she applied that. Finally, she considered herself ready to face the day. Opening the door, she went to wake her daughter.

But the bed was empty. Hailey was gone.

Stunned, Blythe stood for a moment in shock. How could this be? She’d heard nothing, and surely Hailey would have screamed if some stranger had entered the room and taken her. Wouldn’t she?

Why? Why would anyone take her baby? What the hell had she done? She should never have come here.

Cursing under her breath, Blythe rushed to the door and tried the knob. Locked.

Damn them.

“Help!” she shouted, pounding on the door with her fists. “Help!”

But no one came. She hit the door until her fists were bruised. She kicked, pummeled and body slammed it, but the thick wood held.

Then she remembered the walkie-talkie. That girl—what was her name?—Ginger, had said to use it if she needed anything.

Scooping it up off the nightstand, Blythe flicked it on. “Ginger?” Her voice vibrated with barely contained fury. “Ginger, come in.”

Nothing but static answered her. Desperate now, she tried every channel, and when she received the same lack of response, she tried again. Her inner wolf snarled in fury.

She barely restrained herself from slamming the useless piece of equipment into the wall. Finally, she tossed it on the bed, crossed to the window and drew back the curtains. To her relief, there were no metal bars on the window. At least she wasn’t in that much of a cage.

But a closer examination revealed that the windows did not open. Effectively, she was trapped inside the room.

That was what they thought. Seething, she searched the room for a heavy object she could use to smash the glass. They’d taken her daughter. For what reason, she didn’t know, nor did it matter. The abduction, the locked room, the stupid walkie-talkie that didn’t work—none of it made sense.

But Hailey, Hailey. Even if they needed to take her somewhere alone to heal her, why would they steal her away like this, without consulting her mother?

Hefting the weight of the chair, which was too lightweight, she roamed the room, her blood humming with an adrenaline-fueled combination of fury and fear.

The lamp was also useless. She couldn’t lift the desk. No doubt her captors had thought of all this, planning the furnishing of the little cell carefully.

Then she spotted the mini refrigerator. Lifting it a few inches off the ground, she realized she might have to struggle to lift it, but since it was the heaviest thing she’d found, it would have to do.

Sliding it out from under the desk, she unplugged it, then hefted it in her arms and carried it over toward the window.

She braced herself and heaved the fridge at the window.

It hit, bounced back toward her and dropped to the floor, the door flying open and bottles of juice and water going everywhere. Blythe stepped over the mess. The window looked the same.

With maybe a tiny crack, a chip, where the edge of the mini fridge had hit.

Wondering if the noise would alert someone that she was trying to escape, she took the cheap, lightweight desk chair and wedged it under the door handle. It might not be good for breaking glass, but at least it would deter entry into the room for a little while. Because there was no way in hell she would let anyone stop her.

She had to save Hailey. No matter what.

Resolute, determined, she bent over, scooped the fridge up, and heaved it again, aiming roughly for the same spot.

Success! This time the window shattered.

But not neatly, not the way windows broke in movies. Instead, there was a ragged hole in the middle, with jagged shards of glass sticking out everywhere.

Carefully, she knocked them out until the window opening appeared both safe and large enough for her to climb through.

Heart still hammering in her chest, she peered out. And remembered that she was on the second floor. She’d have to climb out and let herself hang from the ledge and drop to the ground, hoping she didn’t break a leg or any other body part.

Climbing up, she scanned the outside area, trying to see in the predawn darkness beyond the glow cast from the outside landscaping lights.

As far as she could tell, no one was out there. But then, even if someone was, she would still do it. No way was she staying locked in the room while they had her baby.

Once she was free, she planned to change to wolf form and go hunting.

Knocking away the last remaining shards of glass, she gripped the windowsill, feeling slivers cut into her palm.

Slowly she swung her legs up and over, scrabbling for purchase on the stucco, until she hung all the way out, unsure exactly how far up she was from the ground.

Then she let go and fell.

* * *

In his wolf form, Lucas had spent hours cautiously roaming Sanctuary, keeping low to the ground and staying in the shadows. He saw no guards, no hint of heightened security. Letting his nose guide him, he followed the scents, almost netting a plump rabbit for his dinner, but he’d already eaten in the café.

Oddly enough, the only scents he detected were those of wildlife. Almost as if the people who lived within the luxurious stucco house never set foot outside.

This would not have surprised him. In fact, he wouldn’t be shocked at all to learn Jacob kept them all prisoners, or so brainwashed they didn’t take a single step anywhere without his approval.

The night had edged its way toward morning and the sky had begun to lighten. Lucas drew closer to the sprawling house. Sanctuary’s inhabitants still slept, and all remained quiet.

As he debated leaving so he could shift back to his human form, a light came on in a room on the second floor.

He froze, half expecting someone with a high-powered rifle to appear and start taking potshots at him.

Belly low to the ground, he backed up, keeping to the edge of the landscape lights, until he felt confident he couldn’t be seen.

The drapes remained drawn and nothing else happened. He’d just about started to lose interest when the curtains flew open and she stood there in plain view.

His heart skipped a beat. Her. The woman he’d come to rescue, the mother of the little girl. The one who was like him.

While he’d watched, she disappeared from view. Pulse racing, he waited, hoping she’d reappear. Instead, a few minutes later, she threw something at the glass, something large and heavy, obviously attempting to break it.

Lucas bared his teeth. Jacob must have locked her in. But she was getting out, using whatever means necessary to make an exit. Lucas approved.

The ever-present desert wind had ruffled his fur as he’d watched and waited, heart pounding in expectation. Again, she’d heaved something at the window. This time, the glass shattered. He’d held his breath while she picked the shards clean, climbed up on the windowsill and let herself hang. She let go a second later.

Watching closely, he’d felt relief when she climbed to her feet, apparently unhurt. He saw no sign of her child. What had happened to the little girl? Surely she wouldn’t just leave her there, would she?