Chapter 9
They wanted to wait until Alex came back from the kitchen, which was fair enough. This concerned him too. He carried a red mug by the handle, treading carefully so as not to spill a drop onto the floor.
So, he’s houseproud — noted.
I could tell a lot from someone by their actions. The way they respected their living space and the people around them.
“Here, I hope I’ve made it right,” Alex handed me a mug of steaming hot tea then put a coaster onto the coffee table in front of me.
I took in every detail, making a mental note of their behavior patterns. It would help me to figure out what made them tick. After inspecting the tea, I risked a sip. It wasn’t too milky, and it wasn’t too strong . . . it won my seal of approval. We were off to an impressive start.
Alex watched me, cringing to see whether the drink was to my liking. He wanted to impress me, but why would he care? Kidnappers were supposed to be wretched, horrid, despicable human beings with agendas. They don’t offer their hostages tea and then bother to check if they like it. What would he do if I spit it out onto his nice clean floor and spattered his coffee table? Would he offer to fetch a replacement? Would that be a step too far to make him lose his temper? Who was I kidding? They had me cornered from all angles. Being stubborn would get me nowhere.
“Mm, thank you, it’s a lovely cup of tea,” I told him honestly.
There was no need to lie. He could tell I enjoyed it by my satisfied sigh. I hadn’t started foaming at the mouth, so I knew it hadn’t been poisoned.
“Glad my tea-making skills, or lack thereof, haven’t repulsed you.” Alex chuckled; his laughter was genuine.
I sipped in silence, not knowing what to make of this weird situation. Was I a prisoner or not?
“So, Isobelle,” Alex added, after clearing his throat, “I bet you’re wondering why you’re here, and why I said those things before,” he said, adopting a sympathetic approach.
“It had crossed my mind,” I admitted rather sarcastically.
Lucas fidgeted in his seat, eyeing me like prey. I liked the way he was looking at me . . . more than I should, so I tried to avoid the urge to look at him. Well, that was the plan. I couldn’t help myself. It was the same with Grayson, Alex, and Mason, too.
“I’m going to cut straight to the chase,” Alex started. “We decided that we would explain everything to you from the start because we don’t want to begin our relationship with any secrets or lies.” His unfaltering gaze remained upon me, waiting for my response.
My left eyebrow quirked up at the word ‘relationship’.
“My brothers and I are wolf shifters,” he continued, making my eyes bulge – just when he gained my attention, that one line blew my fragile trust to smithereens.
I choked on my tea with a snort. Mason patted my back to assist me.
Alex flinched but then chose to continue, “We are the wolves you heard last night, and the same wolves you met with tonight. We’re the investors funding your research project. I first spotted you at a seminar in London. You might not remember me, but I was giving a speech on conservation of our forest.” He shifted nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
I waited for the punchline . . . but it never came. Then I wriggled out of Mason’s grasp. He didn’t stop me from getting up to stand.
“Wolf shifters?” I scoffed, still stuck on that joke. “Now I know you’re fucking deluded.” I set my mug down on the table, the contents sloshed over the rim and made a mess. Not that I cared. Then I snatched my camera from beside Mason’s leg and wrapped the cord around my hand. “Point me to the guest house and I can find my way back from here.”
Alex scrubbed a hand over his face in agitation. “Do you need me to prove it?” he offered; he used a clipped tone as if he had run out of patience. “We’re sharing a personal secret with you . . . the least you can do is listen to what I’ve got to say.”
I scowled with disgust, crossing my arms under my tits. “You won’t get away with this,” I retorted, trying to take back control.
Alex moved like the wind, snatching my wrists in his shovel-sized hands, and forcing me to feel his heartbeat. “Do you feel the energy between us,” he asserted. “Open your mind and feel our shared connection. It works both ways. You must feel something.”
Without thinking of the consequences, I shoved my knee hard into his groin and watched him drop to the floor, the room erupting into the sound of brash laughter. “How do you like that energy, Fuck Face,” I grunted the words out, because if the pain in his balls were half as bad as the pain that shot through my leg, then I was proud of my achievement.
“Alex,” Grayson called out, giggling. “Let her rest. This can wait until the morning.”
The pointed glare in Alex’s eyes subsided. He dragged himself up from the floor and then staggered to the kitchen. I assumed to get an ice pack for his bruised balls, but he returned with paper towels to clean up the tea spill. He glowered at me, and I glowered back. We both refused to concede.
“You should rest,” Grayson mentioned, holding his hand out to me. “You can take the bed. We’ll sleep out here.”
I didn’t accept his hand, and he didn’t seem offended by that. He let me follow him into the bedroom of my own accord. He didn't attempt to join me, keeping hold of the door handle as if he intended to close it on his way out.
“You have nothing to fear from us, Isobelle. We would never hurt you,” he reassured me.
“Says the wolf shifter,” I retorted cynically.
Of all the men to kidnap me, I got the hottest fucking nutjobs on the planet.
Grayson huffed with amusement as he closed the door. I noticed there wasn’t a key lock beneath the handle, just a simple lock on the inside which I locked to keep unwanted creepers out. Pressing my ear against the varnished wood, I could hear their hushed whispers as they talked amongst themselves. I couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly, but they were obviously talking about me. After an hour or two of lying on the bed, nursing my knee, and straining to listen, their conversation fizzled into silence. It was at that moment, I seized the opportunity to escape. I weighed up my limited options. Any attempt I made to try and sneak out through the front door would be thwarted. I knew that. Only sheer stupidity would inspire me to try it. The only feasible means of escape was to climb through the window. We were on the ground floor, so I wouldn’t have to worry about falling from a great height and breaking both my legs. My bruised knee be damned; it didn’t hurt too badly. I could walk on it. Maybe even run if I had to.
Every movement I made was slow and stealthy as I crept to the window. To my astonishment, the window wasn’t locked, and it opened easily enough. Cool air blew into the room, fanning my flustered face. I established a landing point, then eased myself out through the square gap and onto the ground. Armed with nothing but my camera, I ambled to the tree line, sparing a last-minute glance behind me to make sure I wasn’t being followed. The coast was clear. My labored steps turned into an awkward run, but as the taste of freedom became ever so sweeter, I chased it with everything I had. My lungs burned as if they had been doused with fuel and set alight, struggling to keep up with the supply and demand for oxygen. Everywhere I turned, my breath turned to white smoke. I made it. I got away.
A foreboding howl tore through the forest, turning my blood ice cold.
Oh shit.
The sound of the chase consumed me – twigs snapping, foliage rustling, paws thundering across the ground. Pain shot through my legs in several places as something sharp scored my skin. Blood pounded behind my ears. Adrenaline raced through my veins like a spark chasing gunpowder. My limbs pumped harder, burning with protest, and my fingers curled into tight fists of fury, slicing through the air to increase my velocity. Howls reverberated every which way, seeming to come from all around me. The inky cloak of nightfall covered everything it touched, hampering my sight. I couldn’t see anything, reliant on touch and sound like a blind person stumbling around in the dark. The scent of thick vegetation ravished my throat, flooding my lungs with an icy burn and filling my mouth like a lake. I didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not torn to shreds by a bloodthirsty pack of wolves. A bittersweet thought taunted me that I got what I came for. I was here to learn everything there was about wolves and their natural habitat, and here I was, hunted as their prey.
My brain tried to rationalize all the reasons why a wolf would want to hunt and kill a human. It wasn’t normal behavior. Wolves preferred to eat bison, rabbits, and deer. They only killed to survive, and the chase was usually over quickly. There was no question that I was being herded. It was a skillful technique to capture their prey. Each warning growl was meant to deter me from going this way or that. The wind rushed overhead, and a forceful impact hit the ground with a thump. My feet skidded through the loose chipping to stop myself colliding nose to nose with the snarling beast. Tearing my camera strap from around my neck, I held the expensive item like a lance, whirling it above my head as a warning that would beat the living crap out of anything that came toward me.
The sound of branches snapping accompanied the sounds of men grunting, but with little to no natural light, it was difficult to see anything but shadows. I was surrounded. The chase was over. I expected to feel the wrath of sharp teeth and claws. I braced myself ready for it.