Pride Unleashed (a Wolf's Pride novel, book 2) (15 page)

I step away from
the grooming station
, and without
so much as a backward gl
impse
, I move toward
Lawrence
.
Silence ensues as he
hooks his chain to my collar
,
and after he
pulls open the
double
doors we retrace our steps back down
the h
a
ll.

When we reach the main foyer, he doesn’t lead me to the master’s office
in the west wing
.
Instead, we
round the corner near the kitchen and
take a back corridor
until we come face to face with a heavy metal barrier
.

Lawrence punches a code and
the door slides
open
, and despite the precarious situation, my ears perk, deciphering the
distinct
sound
s
associate
d
with each button
.
I store that information in the back of my mind as
I examine my surroundings
.
My stomach tightens as I
tak
e
note of the long cold, cement tunnel ahead of me
, one I’ve never
entered
before
and didn’t know existed until now
.
Lawrence
closes the
heavy door
behind us and the sound of his
boots
echoing
off the walls
sends shivers skittering down my spine.

I
have no idea where he’s taking me, and can’t help but wonder what cruelties await me when we get there.

We come to the end of the hall, and stop in front of an elevator.
Lawrence punches the button and when it arrives he shoves me inside.
He puts his back to me as he punches in a code
.
He’s trying to hide his actions, but I listen intently and take note of the sounds.
A
moment later we’re
dropping
quickly, and I wonder just how far below the ground
this elevator is taking us
.

When
it finally stops and the doors
ping open I feel almost breathless,
but
I think it has more to do with the scent of fresh blood in the air, then
the sensation of falling
.

We
turn a corner and
walk up to another door, but before Lawrence reaches for the handle, he tugs on the collar of his T-shirt,
and I can see th
e slight vibration in his hands
.
Despite the coldness in this dingy dungeon, beads of perspiration
dot his
skin
and his chest rises and falls a little quicker
.

His odd behavior
has my
hackles spiking,
and
when
I note the uneasy way he’s shifting on the balls of his feet, the way his Adam’s apple is bobbing crazily as if going down for the third count
, I
draw in
the
rancid scent of his fear, and
prepare myself for the worst
.

As
I fight down the chaos
clamoring
for control inside me and desperately call on calm
, I watch
t
he
handler
run his damp palms through his hair
.
I realize
that
if he
’s
this afraid, th
e
n
whatever lies beyond that door is not going to bode well for me.
Lawrence
pulls in air, and puts on an
expressionless mask
before
he
turns the knob
and
readies himself
to face the demons that haunt him.

When he
finally
pushes
it open
, the gruesome sight before me brings
blistering
, angry
tears to my eyes.
Hot, searing p
ain
stabs
at my heart and my throat aches painfully
as I take in
the
horrific display
.

I
dig deep and
try not to show a reaction,
try
not
to give away my emotions but there is nothing I can do to keep my wolf from howling, my mouth from gaping open.
Wild
black fury erupts inside me, and every instinct I have warns that my next move in this deadly game
of control
could mean the difference between life and death.

Intense silence fills the room as all eyes turn on me.
I struggle to keep my
wolf leashed
, struggle to stay standing
when all I want to do is drop to the floor and weep
, or better yet, shift and kill
.

Saliva
pools beneath my tongue
and
my stomach
clenches.
As
acrid
vomit pushes into my throat
I realize that for
the first time in my life, I know what real fear is.

With my gaze
locked
on the man I intend to kill, I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood and wait for him to make the next move.
As
my stomach churns I
force myself to breathe naturally,
but when I draw air into my lungs
,
the scent of
Logan’s
warm
blood fills my senses
and floods me with
a confusing mix of anger and dread
.

As the air ripples with tension, the aroma ripe and heady as it swirls around me, I realize
I never should have agreed to this
risky
plan, never should have allowed Logan to place his trust in me.

I suddenly feel so p
owerless in the face of such
violence
,
so defenseless and vulnerable that
I
can
feel the strength drain
right
out of me
.
As I weaken,
I instantly
hate Logan for believing in me, for putting his life in my hands.

When
my mate’s
rich
,
familiar scent trickles through my bloodstream
my wolf gives an animal cry
and
I know in a
heartbeat
that
the master has
found my breaking point.

I wonder if he knows it, too.

Some small part of me had
to expect this
to happen
.
Yet there was that other part of me, the
part
that h
oped
Logan would
never
have to
face the master’s wrath.
But
I
should have known better.
A
fter all,
my orders were to bring
the rogue
back alive, and there was only one reason the
master
hadn’t killed t
he r
ebellious wolf o
n
sight
.

Logan has information
and
t
he
master
had
every intention
of getting it from him, using any means possible.
And while we knew that
fact
coming
back into this dark place,
knew thi
ngs could
very well
go down this way
, it
still doesn’t make the
horrifying
vision before me any easier to stomach.

“Pride,”
t
he
master
says,
his tension palpable as he
waves a hand toward the
plastic
chair across from his
utilitarian
desk
, much different from the plush
furnishings
in his upstairs
work station
.

I don’t speak.
I simply move across the floor and gingerly lower myself into the
hard
chair
as I listen to my heart thump
wildly
.
Needing my focus more than I ever needed it in
my entire life,
I
give myself a hard mental shake then
peruse my surrounding,
committing
the entire dungeon to memory.

Unlike
the master’s
luxurious
office in the west wing, this
one is icy cold
.
With no windows, the only source of light is coming from the single bulb overhead
, a beaded chain dangling from the base
.
The walls are bare, the furnishing minimal, and the floor is
equipped wit
h
drains, which makes
this
ugly
space
f
eel more like a meat locker than anything else.

Determination etched on his face
and
h
is voice
lacking any sort of tolerance for me today, he announces
,
“It seems I have a problem, Pride.”

I don’t answer.
I’m not sure if I can.
With only the
narrow metal
desk separating us, I
neatly
fold my hands in my lap and stare straight ahead.

H
is chair scrapes the cement floor as he stands
and everything about him screams danger
.
He walks to a small bar behind his desk
and pours
amber alcohol into a glass.
I swallow as I watch him
drain the liquid
, then I nearly leap out of my chair when he flings the
tumbler
across the room, the glass shattering into a million tiny pieces.

“No more games, Pride
,
”
he warns, and
acting
purely
on animal instincts
I jump to my feet when he steps in front of me.
A gun presses against the back of my head, and
I don’t need to turn to know Lawrence’s lips are curled into a sneer, just waiting for me to make a wrong move.
M
y jaw flexes
painfully
as I clench down hard
enough to break teeth
.

“No more games,” I manage to choke out
, finding it most difficult to keep my voice from sounding strained, to keep my body from giving away my
raw
emotions when Logan is less than five feet
away from
me, his
eyes swollen, his jaw shattered, his
beaten and battered body hang
ing from iron manacles.

The master perches himself on the end of his desk and nods to my seat
.
H
is voice level
s
out considerably when he says,
“
Good girl
,
Pride.
Now
I need you to tell me everything you know.”

“I will,” I say
and carefully drop down
into my seat
and push
as far
back
in the chair
as I can, but I still can’t seem to put enough distance
between us.

“Pride…”
At the sound of
Logan’s
labored voice my gut twists with
equal measures of grief and
fear.
Feeling lightheaded as my blood rushes
to my feet
,
I listen to his breathing for a moment.
It’s heavy and fractured,
like he’s
broken a rib or worse
,
punctured a lung.
I blink back the tears I cannot afford to show
as p
anic invades
my heart
.
If
he doesn’t soon shift and heal himself, I
could very well lose him.