Back and Better book

Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-six

Consciousness is slow to return to me. Before opening my eyes, I realize that I’m unable to move my

arms and legs, which sends a rush of panicked adrenaline through my body. My eyelids are nearly

crusted together, but I manage to open my eyes and try to take in my surroundings through blurred

vision.

Darkness. My arms are chained to a wall and I’m seated on a cold floor, with complete darkness

surrounding me. The smell of blood weighs heavily in the air, and the faint scent of cement lingers. I

blink several times to clear my vision, and am able to focus more. ·

It’s a small room, the size of a prison cell. At the front is a reinforced steel door. Even if I managed to

get out of these chains, I doubt I’ll get through that.

I keep my breaths deep, trying to calm down enough to remember how I got here.

Dinner with my mates. The glass shattering, the bullets… Did my men get hurt? Are they alive?

Questions run through my head at a million miles per second, and my breathing quickens. There aren’t

any injuries on my body, which bodes well for me, but there is a strong haze hanging over me that’s

impairing my mental state.

In and out. Stay calm, cool, and collected. There’s no use panicking in this situation, that’ll just make

things worse for me.

After a few minutes of steadying my racing heart, I glance up at the chains and examine them. They’re

attached to the wall, and there doesn’t appear to be any hope of getting out of them. Tears spark in my

eyes as the beautiful faces of my mates flash in my mind.

The bond! I still feel the bond with all three of them, which means they aren’t dead. They may, however,

be seriously wounded. With the woozy feeling still lingering, it’s easy to deduce that I was drugged at

some point between the bullets and now so I can’t tap into the bond strongly enough to feel if any of

them are in pain-but knowing they’re alive has to be enough for now.

I test the chains again, pulling with all of my might, and letting out a groan of frustration when they just

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I freeze in my ministrations when I make out the echo of footsteps behind the door, straightening my

spine and tilting my chin up in attempts to conceal the terror coursing through me.

The door opens with a rusty creak, and the lights in the room flip on. It looks the same in the light as I

made out in the darkness-a cell. But that doesn’t give much indication as to my geographical location.

I tense even further as a man steps into the room. He looks to be just under six feet tall, with short hair,

a five-o-clock shadow, and absolutely jacked physique. He has a square jaw, and irises so dark they

almost look black. He looks to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. He’s wearing a three piece

suit with an expensive-looking watch wrapped around his wrist.

The haze from the drugs clears up even more at the additional adrenaline from added danger, and I’m

able to tap into the bond and check on my mates.

They’re not in any physical pain, but all three of them are panicking. That could mean that they’re safe

away from here and only I was captured, or it could mean they’re also chained to a wall somewhere. I

don’t pick up any of their scents in the air, so if they’re prisoners they aren’t nearby.

“Amira Warner,” he says in a gruff voice, walking over to me.

I refuse to show fear even as my terror increases, instead schooling my features and giving him a cold

look.” Yeah?”

His chapped lips twitch slightly as he takes me in, dragging an uncomfortable gaze down my body that

reminds me I’m still in my dress last night. A dress that shows ample legs and cleavage, especially

sitting down.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Aaron Kroll.”

S**t. Aaron Kroll is an Alpha of a neighboring pack, and known for starting wars just for the hell of it.

Still, I don’t allow him to see my recognition. The way I see it is either I’m going to be killed or kept

prisoner, and my best bet is to stall and hope my mates show up.

I hate being in such a damsel-in-distress position, but really, what choice do I have? “And I’m bored.

Can I go now?” I say, feigning nonchalance. thing to do. And I’m yet to experience my intuition being

wrong.

As the last of the haze from the drugs clear, I hear three voices shouting frantically in my head. It

seems my ability to mind-link had been chased away by whatever cocktail I was hit with.

Amira, baby, please wake up. Answer me, Christian’s voice coaxes. For the love of God, respond,

Erebus’s voice also sounds. I’m losing my fo. **g mind, baby. Talk to me, Damon says, louder than the

other two.

I just woke up. I’m in a cement cell somewhere chained to a wall. Aaron f*****g Kroll is my captor, and

is looking at me with serious malicious intent I respond to all of them.

They all start speaking back, too loud and fast for me to discern what’s being said. One at a time,

please, you’re giving me a headache, I mind-link back, and the voices settle. What happened? Are you

okay?I ask. We’re fine, Damon responds. What do you remember?

I try to focus. We were eating and talking at that restaurant, and then bullets started shooting. That’s all

I can remember.

It was a kidnapping. The bullets were tranquilizers. We all got hit, and when we came to, you were

gone. You’ve been missing for four hours, Christian tells me.

“Having trouble calling out to your mates?” Kroll questions, giving me a pitying smile. “The tranquilizers

are still in your system. You won’t be able to reach out for days, I’m afraid.”

The tranquilizers might have subdued a lesser wolf, but I’m an Alpha and white wolf. My mates are all

Alpha’s. Kroll’s too arrogant to realize the tranquilizers won’t affect mind-linking for long.

I don’t tell him that though. Instead, I tilt my chin up and shrug my shoulders. “Well, you’ve got me all

chained up. Care to let me in on your plans?”

Kroll’s gets more irritated at my behavior, but doesn’t act on my taunts. Yet. Kroll thinks the drugs stop

us from mind-linking, I say to all three mates.

He always was an arrogant, tenacious fucker, Damon says. It rubs me the wrong way that he talks

about Kroll as if he personally knows him.

Trackers are after you right now, baby. It won’t be long until they get to you. In the meantime, find out

what he wants, Erebus says.

Kroll squats down in front of me, reaching out to run a hand through my hair in a gesture that’s far too

intimate for captor and captive.

“I want to expand my territories. The population of my pack is growing fast, and we’re out of land. But

your mates have an iron grip on all of our surrounding territories, and it doesn’t look like they’re letting

that go without some… persuasion.”

Understanding dawns on me. “You’d go as far as to kidnap a mate of three Alpha’s just to expand? Are

you suicidal?”

His eyebrows slam down as he scowls at me. “I’m most certainly not suicidal, Amira. I’m an

opportunist.”

| snort. “And kidnapping me was an opportunity, how? You had three Alpha’s under your thumb. You

could’ve killed them and taken their territory.” It’s a lie. He’d be dead in moments if he killed those

Alpha’s-people would seek revenge.

Kroll lets out a chuckle, giving me a patronizing look. “Had I killed them, my pack would’ve been wiped

out before I could even move in on their territories. Your mates have virtually no weaknesses, other

than you. You are an opportunity,

and I’m taking it.”

I blink at him. What makes him think my mates won’t kill him and take back territories as soon as he

hands me over to them?

“And how do you intend to keep these territories once you give me back?” I push, unable to find the

logic in this madness.

He gives me a wide grin. “Giving you back? No, Amira. I’ll be keeping you as collateral.”