“No?” the first werewolf said, like he realized how stupid that had been. “We have other movies and shows as well.”
Dylan stayed rooted to the spot, but he jumped forward and started walking when the second werewolf reached down to his belt and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
“I’m walking,” Dylan said, the idea of being put in handcuffs making his stomach churn. “You don’t need those.”
The two werewolves marched him up the jet bridge, the automatic doors opening to the gate area where a crowd of people were waiting.
They moved through the crowd, the two werewolves drawing plenty of curious glances as they exited past security and walked into the arrivals hall.
Before he knew it, Dylan was being ushered into a black van. He climbed into a seat in the very back of the van, the first werewolf moving in after him and taking the seat next to him. The van had individual seats, but the man’s knee and foot still pushed into Dylan’s space.
Dylan cringed away, not wanting to have any contact with his kidnapper.
He glanced around, looking to see if he had any avenues of escape, but the effort was halfhearted. There was no way he could get away from two werewolves unless he incapacitated them, and he wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to do that.
“I’m Bruce,” the werewolf sitting next to him said. Noticing the way Dylan was angling his body away from him, he pulled his foot back to his side of the van. “And that up there is Cain. I hope you won’t hold this against us.”
Dylan looked at him, trying to convey just how stupid that statement was.
Bruce sighed, like Dylan was being difficult, and leaned back.
Dylan buckled his seatbelt into place and stared at his lap. He jumped when Bruce suddenly reached across the space between them, touching the monitor embedded into the back of the seat in front of him. His suit-clad arm bulged with muscle, making Dylan feel like he was being caged in.
“Movies, see?” Bruce said, tapping the screen. “There are headphones in the compartment next to you. It’s a long drive.”
Dylan said nothing, and Bruce slowly withdrew his arm.
Cain started the engine and glanced at them in his rear-view mirror. “Are you ready?”
Bruce looked at Dylan, but he refused to engage. He turned his attention back to his accomplice.
“We’re ready.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll text alpha that we’re on our way.”
36
RYKER
Ryker and August huddled close, bent over the kitchen island and staring at the screen of Ryker’s computer. They had been tracking Dylan’s flight, waiting to be able to contact him, but he’d landed more than half an hour ago and he still hadn’t made contact. All their attempts to call him were going straight to voicemail.
August still hadn’t found any record of Dylan’s father being admitted to the hospital. He’d called every clinic in Anchorage, as well as the military base treatment center and the clinic reserved for native people, but not one of them had a patient named Christopher Landry admitted.
Ryker was almost certain that Dylan had been tricked – that he’d beentaken. His wolf was a snarling presence in the back of his mind, impotent rage stabbing at his concentration and making it almost impossible to maintain control.
He wasn’t even trying to hold back his teeth or claws.
“Should we call Steve again?” August asked, standing up and rubbing his eyes. They’d tried calling him, but he wasn’t picking up or replying to their messages. “Or go over to his place?”
Ryker wanted to. He wanted to beat down Steve’s door and rip his throat out.
He and August had made every overture of friendship, welcoming Steve into their life and their pack with open arms, and the bastard had repaid them bystealingtheir mate.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Ryker said. “If he’s pulled some sort of stunt, I might just kill him.”
“That would be bad,” August said, like he was reminding himself and his wolf why they couldn’t go beat up Steve and force him to return Dylan.
Ryker tried to call Dylan again, growling when it went straight to voicemail. He put the phone down so that he didn’t accidentally break it.
August ran his hand through his hair. “It’s not like they can keep him away from us,” he said, pacing the floor. “Heneedsus.”
