My work at the museum is all I ever needed out of a job—interesting, but uneventful. I have a solid routine that gives me stability and allows me room to play, too.
I open my eyes, tilting my head back again to look at the stars. Almost every night, I find myself outside, drawn by a call I can’t consciously hear. I always feel this sense of connection and contentment, and give thanks for all I have.
Only missing one thing…
I shake my head as if to rattle that thought straight back out of it again. I gather up my robe and step forward to go back up to the porch.
At that moment, a massive black shadow appears in front of me. I don’t have time to scream or even think as strong arms wrap around me and yank me off my feet.
At first, I think I’ve been grabbed by some kind of predator, and I just go limp from shock. As I’m manhandled into the woods, though, I realize I’m being held against someone’s chest, and they have their hand over my mouth. This isn’t some horror movie scenario—at least, not yet.
This is just a person, a shitty human being. At best, this is a prank; at worst, it’s a psycho. But still, just an ordinary human being.
A dark wave rises up in my memory, threatening to overwhelm me with horrors far worse than anything you’d see on the true crime shows. I start to tremble as all the things that ever truly terrified me rise in my mind, beating against my skull, but I shove the images away.
Let me go, you asshole!
I start squirming, and the guy has to tighten his hold on me. Even with my struggling, he manages to hold on to me until we come to the other side of the vacant block. I see a car parked at the edge of the road.
Do I know that car?
Just as we reach the curb, he has to loosen his grip to find his keys, and I scrape my heel down his shin, struggling and ramming an elbow into his ribs. The guy makes a muffled grunt of pain and drops me.
I smack into the hard ground and roll, trying to get to my feet and run in one movement. I make it two steps before the guy throws himself on top of me. Wriggling like a hooked fish, I flip myself over and try to slap him across the face.
“Trina!” he snaps, with exasperation. “Fucking stop!”
“What?” I murmur, waiting for my eyes to adjust. “Owen?” I almost shriek.
“Look, just calm down,” he says, sitting on top of me. “I know I’ve gone about this the wrong way—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I scream, regretting for the first time that I don’t have neighbors. “Gone aboutwhatthe wrong way—and what the fuck is the right way, if you’re referring to kidnapping someone?”
“I’m not kidnapping you,” he says, annoyed. “I’m just… well…”
“Go on?” I reply, trying to sit up and glare at him. “Please, tell me exactly what you’re doing?”
Owen sighs, folding his arms as he stares down at me. He has me completely pinned by straddling my hips, and I can’t even wriggle my way out.
“Look, this is going to be hard to accept—”
“That you’re a complete psycho? I’m getting that loud and clear.”
“Stop it!” he snaps. “Will you let me talk?”
“Will you let me go?”
He glares down at me, and I can see the softest hint of green in his gaze, reflecting even in this poor light.
It sucks that he looks as delicious as ever while he’s fucking kidnapping me.
“I’m a shifter,” he says finally. “A wolf—an alpha, actually. There was a ritual to determine my mate, and apparently, it’s you.”
I stare at him in complete disbelief for a second, then I burst out laughing.
“Come on, Owen,” I giggle, wishing I could wipe the tears from my eyes. “Where are the others? Are you filming this? Is ita social media trend or something? You got me—really good, too. Now if we can just go back inside—”
“Trina,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “There’s no one else here.”
