There was a pause, a beat that sounded like a decision was being made. Trust between packs was a fragile thing. Magnus had started reaching out to heirs his age. It looked like the strategy was paying off as Valentino decided to keep talking.
"That was the arrangement. Our fathers decided it. Neither of us wanted it. On the day we went to finalize it, make it official, she was sneaking out the gate. She saw me. I saw her. I turned away and pretended I hadn't. That was the last time I laid eyes on her."
Across from me, my father leaned forward. "Valentino?"
Another beat, and then; "Yes, sir?"
It never ceased to amaze me the respect my father held amongst the packs. When I was young, the other pups wouldwhisper stories about him. Fenrir Blackwood was a legend in so many eyes.
"How is your father?" Fenrir's voice was calm, conversational.
Valentino didn’t answer immediately. When he did, the accent slipped. Barely concealed disgust permeated his slang. "Wouldn't know. Ain't spoken to him in years."
"Why is that?" Fenrir asked.
"Because he tried to marry my baby sister off to a pack that breaks what it buys.”
"Thank you, son."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwood."
The line cut off, and I turned to Elias. "Spill," I growled.
"Addie was promised to Valentino Lupetto when she was eighteen. I was a kid at the time, but I know my father was depending on the Lupettos as allies. When it didn't come through, and Addie ran, that's when things started to get bad."
"Dante Lupetto doesn't believe in dead deals," Fenrir said.
Which meant he had her. I couldn't stand it anymore. I turned away from the window, the impotence of the room suffocating me.
"Sit down, Vidar," Fenrir commanded. It wasn't a suggestion. "In times like these, we lean on the pack. We depend on family. Magnus call the Lupetto boy back and get more intel on his father and that pack. Gunnar, you track him down."
"Yes, sir," they said in unison.
I looked at my father, the old wound opening up in my chest. I remembered seeing my father betrayed by a brother ten years ago—an ally who had promised us a deal and delivered us a massacre instead. My father had survived because he trusted his blood over his allies.
Magnus put a hand on my shoulder. "Too many people owe us favors. They won't get away with this."
Gunnar grabbed his jacket, his eyes already shifting to a hunter’s gold. "I have her scent, bro. I'll find her for you."
"Go," Fenrir ordered Magnus and Gunnar. "Bring our girl home."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ADDIE
Dante's nails dug into my ribs as he lifted me out of the chair. For a wolf of his age, he was still quite strong. I wouldn't use the term powerful. Powerful men did not steal women.
My mind instantly went to my husband. Vidar hadn’t stolen me. He’d manipulated me, sure. Maneuvered me, definitely. He'd pressured, cornered, and outplayed me. He’d seen exactly what I was capable of and used it to his advantage without apology.
That had been a mental game. A choice, even when it hadn’t felt like one. The trouble I was in now was something else.
Dante’s grip tightened, his touch clinical, invasive. There was no strategy in it. No respect for what I was. Only what I could produce.
Not a partner. Not an equal. A vessel. His interest wasn’t in me. It was in my ovaries.
Vidar had at least licked my pussy until I saw stars. The thought of this old wolf's nose near my lady bits had me heaving.
I didn't struggle. I let my limbs go heavy, my head lolling back as if the wolfsbane had completely drained my will. There were too many of them in the cellar, a dozen pairs of hungry, yellow eyes tracking my every breath. I knew the odds. My only chance was to get one alone, to let Dante believe the performance of the broken damsel until his guard dropped.
