Gabriella glared at the black log burner set against the wooden wall of the small cabin, her fingers digging into her knees beyond the end of her grey pencil skirt, her shoulders rigid beneath her white blouse. Her lips compressed, jaw tensing as she listened to the infuriating silence punctuated only by the rapid but steady pounding of her heart.
He would come back.
He never left her alone for long.
She tilted her head to her left, just enough that she could see the door of the all-too-rustic house and the woods beyond the glass. Thoughts of escape pushed her to rise to her feet.
Her very bare feet.
The bastard had taken her shoes from her the first time she had tried to get away from him.
A sneaky tactic suited to the pig, and one he had completed with a satisfied twist to his bowed lips and a mocking sparkle in his grey eyes.
What sort of man resorted to removing her shoes so if she did manage to break free of her cage, she would be hobbled, slowed as she tried to pick her way through the dense coniferous forest that swamped the mountains in all directions?
Easy to capture again.
Gabi huffed, dragged her gaze away from the outside world, and tried to drag her thoughts away from escape but that was impossible now. Escape had been firmly on her mind for the past twelve hours, since she had come back to the world to find herself a captive. She didn’t remember much about what had come before, only recalled snippets of wandering around the cabin in a stupor, shell-shocked by what she had witnessed.
She stared at the fire, not seeing the flames as they devoured the meagre supply of fuel.
She saw that man killing Alexander.
Saw Alexander attacking Ivy.
Kept hearing Alexander’s words as he had forced her onto the helicopter in Calgary, telling her it was time she witnessed the truth of this world with her own eyes and saw justice dispensed.
Only when they had arrived in the godforsaken cluster of cabins in the disgusting wilderness, she hadn’t seen justice.
She had seen Alexander and two hired mercenaries wielding weapons of war, armed to the teeth against men who had been leading what had looked like the picture postcard of a peaceful life before her half-brother had brought a battle to their doorstep in the name of revenge.
Men who had transformed into beautiful golden cougars before her eyes.
The door opened and she jumped, entire body tensing as her gaze whipped towards it and her heart lodging in her throat.
The man filling the doorway just looked at her in silence, handsome face devoid of emotion.
But there was a softness in his grey eyes as he gazed at her, one that was far from the look she had expected him to level on her after her last pathetic attempt to escape.
One that had ended with him growling at her and grabbing her, hauling her off her feet as if she weighed nothing and dumping her on his worn brown leather couch and telling her in a gruff deep voice not to move.
She hadn’t.
Not because she was afraid of him, but because she was tired, soul-deep weary and didn’t have the strength to move. She just wanted to curl up and sleep, to forget where she was and everything that had happened. She just wanted to go home, back to her family’s mansion in England, to lounging by the indoor pool sipping cocktails and going clubbing with her friends.
God, things had to be dire if she wanted to go out with those vapid excuses for people.
Alexander was gone now. She had no reason to play her part anymore, to smile and please his friends and their friends, keeping them sweet so their investments kept his business afloat.
He was gone.
That still hadn’t sunk in.
She stared at the brute as he ran a hand over his spiked sandy hair, combing it back. A few scars peeked out from the sleeves of his tight black t-shirt, red and raw, and she had a flash of him fighting, launching as a cougar to land on Alexander’s back and bring him down.
To protect Ivy.
And his brother.
Bile rose up her throat as she saw that dark-haired man on top of Alexander, punching him. There had been so much blood. On Alexander. On him.
The man stepped into the cabin and closed the door, dragging her back to him. She studied him as he moved into the small kitchen area to the left of the door, using him to distract her from memories as he poured himself a glass of water, turned and planted his ass against the wooden counter.
Stared right back at her.
“How is the other man?” she whispered, needing to break the silence because it was pressing down on her, felt heavy on her shoulders and as if it might crush her.
His lips twisted in a sneer. “What do you care? Or do you want to know my brother is dead? Like yours.”
She scowled at him for that.
She had never been close to Alexander, but he was her brother.
Had been her brother.
Her eyes burned, but she didn’t have any tears left for him, felt dried up inside, a little hollow and numb, and now that the shock was wearing off, she felt something else too. She felt… relieved.
Was that wrong of her?
Alexander hadn’t been the easiest man to live with, had resented her from the moment she had been born, as if he had blamed her for the fact his mother had remarried after losing his father. He had always made it painfully clear that her life of luxury came from his father’s money too, had made snide remarks about how her father was weak and pathetic, unworthy to bear the name of his family.
A name his mother had insisted on keeping when she had remarried.
Lord.
It suited Alexander, because he acted just like one, all entitled and pompous.
Had suited Alexander.
Maybe it suited her too, because hadn’t she acted the same way? Didn’t she love her life of luxury and leisure?
“How is Ivy?” She wouldn’t let him get away with refusing to answer that question. “I want to know how Ivy is. She was hurt.”
The bastard just regarded her with cold grey eyes, making it clear she wasn’t going to get anything out of him.
Gabi shot to her feet. “I have a right to know. Ivy is my friend. I was the one who arranged for her funding. I’ve known her longer than you and I want to know how she is! Is she a captive here too? Is that what you all do? You capture women and… and…”
She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
The man’s face darkened, as if he didn’t like the accusation she was hurling at him either, and then calmly set the glass down and pushed away from the kitchen counter. He rounded the brown leather couch, advancing on her, long black jeans-clad legs devouring the short distance.
She stood her ground on trembling legs, her heart hammering against her ribs.
He stopped close to her, towering over her. She barely reached his broad shoulders, had to tip her head back to keep glaring at him. His eyes shifted, growing more golden as he stared down at her.
“I have a right to know.” Those words came out unsteady, trembled on her lips as she faltered, fear getting the better of her. More powerful men than this one had tried to intimidate her and had failed. She wasn’t going to let him win. She wasn’t going to be cowed by some country brute, no matter how much stronger he was than her. She clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes on him. “Tell me how Ivy is.”
He responded by seizing her right upper arm in a bruising grip and she leaned back, grimacing as she tried to wriggle free of his iron grasp. When he shoved past her and tugged her with him, her eyes widened and she shook her head.
He was taking her towards the bedroom.
His voice was a low growl as he uttered, “You gave up all your rights when you invaded our territory.”
Gabi shook her head faster and frantically clawed at his hand, leaving red marks on his golden skin as she desperately tried to prise his fingers off her. Her heart went wild, thundering as fear pounded through her veins.
“Please,” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at the back of his head and leaned away from him, trying to use her slender weight to slow him down.
He yanked her forwards and shoved her into the bedroom.
Her knees hit the bed and she fell onto it, gasped as she twisted to face him, her fear rising to swamp her and leave her quaking as cold sweat slid down her spine.
Darkness descended as the door slammed.
His gruff voice echoed through it. “You’re not to leave that room. If I see you outside it, there’ll be consequences you won’t like.”
Her eyes went wider. She had thought he had been about to deliver consequences she wouldn’t like, and God, it was a relief that he hadn’t. She sank against the soft bed, her breath leaving her on a long tight sigh as all her fear drained from her, leaving her shaking and weak, feeling sick to her stomach.
He moved around the other room, muttering, “Fucking humans… like I’d want one again.”
She frowned at that and pushed up onto her elbows, using his words as a distraction she badly needed as she got her shaking under control. So, he had desired humans in the past? What had happened to make him hate her kind so much?
Gabi waited for him to leave, but he kept stomping around like a bear in a bad mood, making a lot of noise as he tossed dishes in the sink, proceeded to wash them, and somehow managed to make a racket as he dried the damned things. He was pissed because she had silently accused him of being the sort of man who would abuse a woman, she got that.
He didn’t need to take it out on the dishes.
She eased onto her feet and looked around the dark room, but couldn’t see a thing. There had to be a light somewhere. Despite the remoteness of the cabin, he had electricity. She had noticed a coffee maker in his kitchen, and other electrical items, and the living area had a lamp and an overhead light, although he hadn’t used either in the time she had been locked inside her cage.
She felt her way along the wooden wall and the bed, heading away from the door. When she hit the outside wall of the cabin, she turned right, and felt her way forwards, stopped when her legs banged into a side table. She blindly explored it with her hands, sighed as she found a lamp, and fumbled with the damned thing.
The light was so bright when she found the switch and it came on that she flinched away from it.
Gabi curled her lip as she looked around the rustic room, with the blue quilt that covered the double bed and was ragged at the edges, worn from what looked like a century of use, and the rickety wooden wardrobe beyond it, and the single side table that had possibly been made by someone blind. She had never seen such awful furniture.
Still, the fact he had electricity was a godsend.
The light went out.
“For fuck’s sake,” the man growled from the other room and she jumped as he banged on the door. “Who said you could use the last of my electricity?”
That explained why he hadn’t used the lights in the main room of the cabin the entire time she had been in it.
“It wasn’t like you said I couldn’t!” she snapped. “It was dark in here.”
“It was dark in here,” he said in a mocking, girly voice. “Fucking females. Grow a spine. You’re in a room with no damned windows. It’s not as if something can get in and get you!”
“Someone can get in and get me though,” Gabi grumbled and glared in the direction of the door.
“I heard that,” he snarled and her eyes widened as the sound of metal scraping drew her attention downwards and a slim shaft of light suddenly penetrated the darkness. “For that, you get locked in.”
“No.” She flew towards the door, slammed face first into the bed with a grunt and rolled off it, back onto her feet. She found the door handle and rattled it, twisted and turned it, and banged on the wooden panels when it refused to give. “You can’t keep me in here!”
“You’re like a broken record.” His voice was clear through the door, and she eased back, positively jumped away from it. She had thought he had moved away again. “How about you sing me a new tune, Little Bird? Tell me about your fuck-head of a brother and your involvement in Archangel, and I’ll give you a little more freedom. You want out of that bedroom, you have to sing for it, Little Bird.”
Her involvement?
“I have nothing to do with Archangel.” She pressed a hand to the polished wooden panel between them. “You have to believe me. I have nothing to do with them. I only helped Alexander run his business. Ask Ivy… question her. I don’t doubt your brother is probably questioning her right this minute.”
He scoffed and muttered, “the last thing Rath is doing right now is interrogating Ivy.”
“What’s that meant to mean?”
The panel creaked, as if weight had suddenly been placed on it, and she pictured him leaning against it, and the way the chiselled planes of his face would be hard, his cut muscles tensing as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“It means Rath wouldn’t hurt a hair on Ivy’s head… but you, Little Bird, if you don’t start singing, my brother might just be inclined to find a way to make you… or worse… he’ll leave it to me.”
She backed away from the door, her heart seizing in her chest. “You’re going to hurt me?”
“Only if you don’t sing.” His voice was a low growl, a deep rumble that rattled her with the force of his words as they hit her.
Gabi shook her head.
“How can I sing when I don’t know the tune?”
