I pulled her to the ground before she could lash out again, wrapped both arms around her, and forced her to meet my eyes. “We’re getting out of here,” I said, willing her to believe it. “Arsenal will not leave me here. He’ll burn the world down before he lets Steiner take me again.”
She sniffed, hiccuped, and let her body go limp in my arms. “You promise?”
I brushed her hair off her face. “On my life.”
Behind us, the dark-haired woman made a sound—half laugh, half sob. “They always say that,” she said, not unkindly. “But you can’t trust men. All they have are words.”
I met her gaze. “You’ve never metourmen.”
Her eyes flicked to my bloodied cheek. “I hope for your sake, you’re right.”
I sat down with Brie pressed tight to my side. Her hands still trembled, but she held onto my sleeve like it was a rope in floodwater. I kept my own fear under wraps. There’d be time to break later.
The wolves continued to march around the warehouse. I recognized two from the club in Houston, one with a scar down the side of his face, the other with knuckles tattooed in Cyrillic. They never looked me in the eye, just kept pacing or squatting to smoke.
You could pack a room with a hundred wolves, set them barking and jostling and gnashing their teeth, but the second an apex predator stepped inside, it all stopped. Maybe it was pheromones, maybe just learned terror—didn’t matter. When the warehouse went quiet, I knew Steiner had come to collect.
Every wolf straightened, eyes fixed dead ahead. Even the guards who’d spent the morning smoking and jawing at us now braced as if about to salute. Brie shuddered against my side; the other two women cowered together on the mat.
Waylon Steiner entered like a king late to his own coronation. He sauntered into the light, hands in his pockets, a smirk pre-installed on his face. The suit was the same as before, navy this time, the shirt blood-red, and I’d bet a month’s wages the shoes cost more than my first car. His hair hung loose now, and in the cold light of the warehouse he looked more animal than man.
He stood just outside the bars, his eyes raking over us one by one, pausing on Brie with an extra twist of the knife. “Miss me?” he said, smiling wide.
No one answered. I made a show of dabbing the blood from my mouth, careful not to give him the satisfaction of a flinch.
Steiner jerked his chin at the guards. “Open it.”
A wolf with a buzz-cut twisted the padlock, then yanked the gate wide. Steiner stepped in, the guards flanking him with the precision of a firing squad.
He loomed over me, arms folded. “Let’s try this again. Where’s your boyfriend, Harper? Arsenal, is it? Or maybe he’s not as brave as you thought.”
I didn’t bother answering. He wanted fear, or at least a little awe. I gave him indifference.
His gaze flicked to Brie. “And you, precious? Still think Luc’s coming for you?”
Brie cringed. “He promised—”
Steiner cackled. “Luc is Renault’s man. He used you as bait, girl, and an easy piece of pussy. He’s resting easy back at his pack’s compound; likely with a woman prettier than you on his lap. He did what he’s paid to do. And you were as stupid as we counted on you being.” He turned to me, shrugged. “Kids these days. So easy to fool.”
He bent down, took my chin between two fingers, and smeared the blood from Brie’s claw marks across my lips. His touch was obscene, a parody of tenderness. “Did you miss your Master?” he whispered, close enough for me to smell last night’s bourbon on his breath.
I met his eyes, steady. “You were never my master.”
He didn’t like that. The smile slipped, replaced by a chill that frosted the air around us. He backhanded me hard, the signet ring on his middle finger splitting my cheek open, raw and hot. I went down but caught myself on one knee, forcing myself to stay upright. I tasted copper and rage.
“Still got some fight in you,” he muttered, shaking his hand. “Good. I want the boyfriend to see what’s left of you when he finally shows up.”
He straightened, motioned to the guards. “Get her up and bring her out here.” He ordered as he strolled out of the cell.
They hauled me to my feet and dragged me out, held me in front of the cell; one on each arm. Steiner circled, slow, inspecting the damage like he was shopping for produce. “You always had a mouth on you, Harper. I had trained it out of you. Looks like we’re starting over.” He smirked at Brie. “Your sister, though? All she ever wanted was to be wanted. Sad, really.”
Brie sobbed, arms wrapped around her waist. I tried to reach for her, but the guards yanked me back.
Steiner’s voice dropped, soft and private. “You know what’s going to happen? Tomorrow morning, I’m putting your little sister on a jet. She’s going to Maltraz, and he gets his pound of flesh. But you? You’re staying right here. I’m going to keep you, just like you wanted. My own little wolf on a chain.”
He let that hang. The guards laughed, but it was a nervous sound, not a real one.
I worked my wrists, testing the guards’ grips. The one on my left was strong, but the other’s hands shook—junkie, or maybe just new. I made a mental note.
