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“This is the wolf I was telling you about,” Andrew says, gesturing toward me like I’m livestock being presented for inspection. The word “wolf” is a punch to my gut. The casual way he says it—like I’m just some animal, like I’m his property—makes my blood freeze. Andrew knows about me. He has always known exactly what I am. “I don’t understand.” I back toward the window, Luna hissing softly in my arms as Andrew and Blackwood follow me into the room. “Andrew, who is this man? Why are you—” “Don’t be shy.” Andrew’s voice carries a sharp edge now. “Mr. Blackwood has traveled very far specifically to meet you. The least you can do is be polite.” The way he says it—like I’m being unreasonable, like I owe this stranger something—is downright offensive. This isn’t the Andrew I know. This isn’t the man who promised to love me and protect me. “I think there’s been some misunderstanding,” I say carefully, edging toward the door now. “I should probably go—” “There’s no misunderstanding,” Blackwood interrupts me, rings clicking as he gestures dismissively. “You’re exactly what I was told you’d be.” Andrew beams like he has just received the highest praise possible. “I told you she was perfect. Look at her—young, healthy, proven bloodline. Prime breeding stock.” I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. Breeding stock. That’s what I am to him? Every tender moment, every gentle touch, every whispered promise—it was all leading to this? I feel like I’m falling, like the ground is disappearing from beneath my feet. “Andrew, I want to leave. Now.” “Oh, but you haven’t heard Mr. Blackwood’s offer yet,” Andrew says, moving to block my path to the door. “It’s quite generous.” “Offer?” I gulp. Blackwood’s smile is positively lecherous. “I collect rare things, Miss Lakan. Beautiful, useful things. Your specific bloodline makes you quite valuable for my purposes.” “Bloodline?” My voice cracks. “What are you talking about?” “Don’t play coy,” Andrew says, and there’s irritation creeping into his voice now. “We both know what you are. What you can produce.” “Produce?” The room starts to spin. “Andrew, what—” “Children, of course,” Blackwood says matter-of-factly, adjusting one of his gaudy rings. “Full-blooded shifters born into human captivity. There’s quite the specialty market for that sort of thing.” I stagger backward, Luna’s claws digging into my shoulder as she senses my distress. Every memory is rewriting itself in my mind—Andrew’s interest in my past, his questions about my family, his gentle insistence that I should trust him completely. “You’re insane,” I breathe. “I can’t have children. I told you that. The magical laws—” “Those laws apply to willing exile,” Blackwood corrects me with clinical precision. “Forced capture is an entirely different matter. The magic recognizes the difference.” Andrew nods eagerly. “I’ve done extensive research. Had experts verify it. Your children will be full shifters, completely suitable for my client’s...particular interests.” My heart is breaking apart in my chest. Every sweet word he ever spoke to me, every kiss, every promise of love—it was all a lie. He never saw me as a person. I was always just a means to an end. “What do you mean?” I’m inching toward the window now, away from Andrew, desperation clawing at my throat. “What kind of interests?” “Collectors,” Blackwood says simply, polishing another of his rings on his jacket. “People who appreciate unique, valuable things. Your offspring will be well cared for, I assure you. Fed, housed, trained...” “Trained for what?” “Entertainment. Protection. Companionship.” His oily grin widens. “Whatever their masters require.” The full horror crashes over me like a tidal wave. They’re talking about slavery. About breeding me like a show dog and selling my children to be pets, toys for the wealthy and twisted. “No!” The word rips from my throat. “Absolutely not! Andrew, how could you—” “How could I what?” His gentle mask slips completely now, revealing the ugliness underneath. “Give you exactly what you wanted? A way out of your miserable life?” “This isn’t what I wanted!” The pain in my chest is unbearable. This is the man I thought loved me. The man I was going to marry. The man I trusted with everything. “Isn’t it?” He steps closer, crowding me against the wall. “You came running to me, desperate and pathetic, begging for someone to want you. Well, congratulations. You’re wanted.” “By slave owners!” Each word is a knife twisting in my heart. Desperate and pathetic. Is that really how he sees me? How he has always seen me? “By people with very deep pockets,” Andrew clarifies. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been cultivating this opportunity? How many years I’ve spent earning your trust, learning about your bloodline?” Years. He has been planning this for years. Every moment of tenderness was calculated. Every smile was a lie. “You never loved me,” I whisper. The words feel like they’re tearing me apart. “Love?” Andrew laughs, and the sound is cold and cruel. It’s nothing like the warm laughter I thought was his. “You really are naive, aren’t you? I’ve been grooming you since the day we met. Every kind word, every gentle touch, every promise of marriage—all of it was designed to get you exactly where you are right now.” I feel like I’m drowning. The man standing before me is a stranger wearing Andrew’s face. Each memory I have of happiness, of feeling wanted and loved, crumbles to ash in my mind. “But I saved you from that shadow bear…” “Which was so convenient,” he says with that same cruel smile. “I’d been trying to figure out how to get close to you for months. A shifter, living alone, collecting herbs? I knew you had to be valuable. But I needed a way in, needed you to trust me. When that bear attacked me and you saved my life, it was perfect. Instant gratitude, instant bond. You practically threw yourself into my arms after that.” The betrayal cuts even deeper. He took my act of kindness, my genuine desire to help someone in danger, and twisted it into a weapon against me. The very moment that I thought proved he was good, that I thought proved I was right to trust him, was just another tool in his arsenal. “I thought—” My voice breaks. “I thought you cared about me.” “I cared about your potential,” he says contemptuously. “Your bloodline. Your value.” “I thought someone finally wanted me for who I am.” “Who you are?” Andrew’s laugh is bitter. “You’re a broken, little wolf girl with abandonment issues. Perfect for manipulation, really. All I had to do was show you a little kindness, and you were ready to follow me anywhere.” The cruelty of it steals my breath. He’s not just betraying me, he’s destroying every precious memory, every moment of hope I’ve ever had. The wedding we planned, the life we dreamed of, the future where I finally belonged somewhere—it was all an elaborate lie. “I’ve verified her bloodline,” Andrew continues to Blackwood like I’m not even here. “Previous alpha’s granddaughter. The children she bears will be full shifters, perfect for your collectors who want exotic pets with collars around their necks.” “Collars?” I choke out, tears streaming down my face. “Beautiful ones,” Blackwood assures me with that slick smile. “Gold, silver, whatever matches their owners’ preferences. Your children will be quite the status symbols.” My children. The children that Andrew agreed we could never have, that I’d given up the possibility of when I left my pack. Even that was a lie. He knew. He always knew. “Now then,” Blackwood says, pulling out an ornate pair of shackles. His rings catch the lamplight as he handles the chains. “Let’s get you properly secured for transport.” “No!” I lunge for the door, but Andrew catches my arm, his grip bruising. The same hands that used to hold me gently are now instruments of capture. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he warns me. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” “There is no easy way!” I wrench against his hold, Luna spitting and clawing at his face. “Let me go!” “Take her,” Blackwood orders coolly. “We can’t have her struggling during transport.” That’s when I see the other men—two large, professional-looking brutes who have apparently been standing silently just outside the door. They move forward with practiced efficiency, their movements coordinated like wolves circling prey. Pure, animal panic explodes through me. This is really happening. The man I loved, the man I trusted with my life, is selling me into slavery. I won’t go quietly. I won’t make this easy for them. I bite down hard on Andrew’s hand, tasting blood as he yelps and releases me. Luna launches herself at the nearest man’s eyes, all claws and fury, buying me precious seconds to grab my knife from the bedside table. “Stay back!” I brandish the blade in my shaking hand, backing toward the window again. “All of you, stay back!” “She’s armed,” one of the men observes calmly, like he’s noting the weather. “So, deal with it,” Blackwood snaps at him. “Carefully. Damaged goods are worth considerably less.” They spread out, aiming to surround me. These aren’t random thugs; they’re professionals who have done this before. I feint left, then dive right, slashing wildly with my knife. The blade catches one of them across the forearm, drawing a line of blood, but he barely flinches. “Feisty,” he comments, blood dripping from his arm. “The buyers like that.” “I am not livestock!” I scream, striking out again. “I am not for sale!” “Everyone’s for sale,” Andrew says with cold detachment. “It’s just a matter of price.” Hearing him say this breaks something fundamental inside me. This is the man who told me I was beautiful. Who promised me forever. Who made me believe I was worth loving. The first man tries to grab me from behind, but I spin and drive my elbow into his solar plexus. He grunts and staggers back, giving me room to slash at the other one. My blade catches him across the chest, tearing through his shirt and leaving a shallow cut. But I’m small, and I’m weaker than they are, and I’m outnumbered. The first man recovers quickly, lunging forward while I’m focused on his partner. His fist catches me in the ribs, driving the breath from my lungs. I stumble, gasping, and barely duck under a grabbing hand. I slash upward with my knife, catching the second man across the jaw. He roars in pain and anger, blood streaming down his neck, but it only makes him more determined. His backhand sends me reeling into the wall, stars exploding across my vision. “Enough playing around,” he snarls, touching his bleeding face. They coordinate their next attack. While one distracts me from the front, the other circles around. I see it coming, but I’m not fast enough to stop it. A meaty fist slams into my kidney from behind, sending fire up my spine. I cry out, my knife hand wavering. “Luna!” I scream as I see one of them grabbing my cat and hurling her against the wall. The sound she makes when she hits—a wet crack that turns my blood to ice—tells me everything I need to know. “No! Luna!” Rage gives me strength I didn’t know I had. I spin and drive my knife deep into the nearest man’s thigh. He howls, stumbling backward, but his partner is already on me. His punch connects with my cheekbone, snapping my head back against the wall. Blood fills my mouth. I fight like a wild animal, clawing and biting and stabbing whenever I get an opening. My knife finds flesh again and again—arms, shoulders, anywhere I can reach. But they’re bigger, stronger, and trained for this kind of work. For every blow I land, they land three. Through the pain and chaos, I see Andrew watching with cold satisfaction. The man who used to kiss my forehead so gently is standing there like he’s watching a rogue sheep being corralled. A kick to my stomach doubles me over and makes me retch. Another to my back sends me to my knees. I try to crawl toward Luna’s still form, but giant hands drag me back by my hair. “Stop fighting,” one of the men pants, his blood streaming from multiple cuts. “You’re only making this worse for yourself.” “Go to hell,” I spit, blood and saliva flying from my lips. The next punch catches me across the temple. The world tilts sideways, and all I can see is black spots. But I don’t give up. Even as my knife slips from my numb fingers, even as my legs refuse to support me, I keep fighting. They pin me down, one holding my arms while the other secures my legs. I thrash weakly, but the fight is going out of me. Blood runs from my nose, my mouth, a cut above my eye. My ribs ache with every inhale. “That’s it,” one of them says, breathing hard. “Just relax. Stop fighting.” But I can’t stop. Not because of some noble cause, but because the alternative is unthinkable. My heart is shattered, my trust destroyed, but I still want to live. My vision tunnels down to a pinprick of light. Luna lies motionless by the wall, her small body twisted at an unnatural angle. Andrew watches with pleasure as his investment is finally secured. The man who promised to love me forever can’t even look me in the eye. I close my eyes, the desire to survive leaving my body. What’s the point? None of it was real. I was clearly not meant to be loved. I can hear Andrew’s voice, feel someone gripping my hair. What a waste of life. I shouldn’t have listened to my mother. There is no goodness in people. They’re all monsters. They all turned their backs on me. A single tear slips down the side of my face as the last remaining piece of my heart finally crumbles to dust. Love? What a joke. The agony drags me toward the darkness. And then I hear it—a sound like thunder, as if the world itself is splitting open. The door explodes inward with such force that splinters of wood rain down like confetti. I force my eyes open, and through the haze of pain clouding my vision, I see the shape of a wolf silhouetted in the doorway. Even beaten, even dying, I know who it is. Lucian. FREE in Kindle Unlimited! 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