The Lost Years

The Lost Years

Natalie Shaw

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© 2014 Natalie Shaw, all rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this ebook may be

reproduced, uploaded to the Internet or copied without the author's permission.

DISCLAIMER

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real

persons, dead or alive, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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http://NatalieShawRomance.com

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The CRAVEN TRILOGY

The Lost Years
is the second book in
The Craven Trilogy
. It is recommended that you read
The Alpha's Search
(book one) before reading this book.

Part 1 – LOUISE (1974)

Chapter 1

My head felt as if a depth charge had just exploded inside it. I opened one eye, but then quickly closed it again. The light was too intense. What was that smell? So sweet and sickly. Where was I? I tried again with the eyes—opening first one and then the other. It took a few seconds to adjust to the light. I could see the room now, but I was no wiser. Bed springs creaked beneath me as I pulled myself up into a sitting position. It wasn't only my head that hurt—I ached in every muscle. Had I been in an accident? I raised both legs a few inches—they appeared to be in working order. Then my left arm—no problems there apart from a dull ache. My right arm felt heavy. Little wonder. A metal clamp had been fastened just above my wrist. Attached to it was a thick metal chain. I swung my aching legs slowly off the bed so I was seated on the edge. The chain snaked across the concrete floor to where it was tethered to a huge eye-bolt. I raised my right arm, and watched as the ripples ran along the length of the chain.

My first reaction was to shift into wolf form, but I quickly realised it would do no good. Although I'd be much stronger, I'd still be no match for the steel and concrete. If I did shift, there was a good chance I'd do my arm serous damage as it tried to expand inside the steel shackle.

“Hello!” I shouted. “Is anyone there?”

I waited for several seconds, but the only sound I could hear was my heart pounding against the wall of my chest.

“Hello?”

No reply. Where was I?  The solitary window opposite the bed was located too high in the wall for me to see anything other than the sky. When I got to my feet, my head began to swim, so I leaned onto the bed frame until it passed. Nausea rose from the pit of my stomach as I walked unsteadily across the room. Eight feet short of the far wall, the chain snapped tight. I could get no closer. From where I stood, I could see only a beautiful, cloudless sky. I took the chain in both hands, planted both feet onto the floor, and pulled with all of my body weight. It was futile. I was no match for the metal and concrete.

“Help me!” The words died on my dry lips.

To my right, and well within my reach, was a small sink. On the draining board was a single metal mug. The tension in the chain eased as I walked away from the window. The tap was stiff and resisted for a few seconds. After a few more attempts, brownish coloured water exploded from the spout. I let the water run, and after a while, it ran clear. I drank the first mug full in one go. The second I sipped a little slower.

“Help!” I tried again—much louder this time.

It met with the same response.

I examined the room more closely. A small table was positioned against the wall opposite the sink. In front of it was a single wooden chair. Next to the bed was a small cabinet with two drawers—both of which were empty. The external door was on the same wall as the window, so beyond my reach. I almost didn't notice the second door because it blended into the wooden wall—only the handle gave it away. Dropping the mug into the sink, I hurried over to the second door and turned the handle.

The toilet was little larger than a cupboard. There was no window or sink—not even a light bulb. I slammed the door closed.

“Hello! Is anyone there?”

I had the sense that there wasn't anyone around to hear me. The only sound I'd heard so far had been the occasional bird call.

I took a seat at the table. The chair was uncomfortable and rocked on uneven legs.

Think! I had to think. I closed my eyes, and slowly the memories began to drift back:

The vampire attack on Jester's nightclub. It had been a massacre. I'd escaped, but Tish hadn't made it.

On the same night, my father had been murdered in his apartment. I'd seen his body. Drake, one of Milton's men, had been there. He'd been with a vampire who I hadn't recognised.

I'd managed to escape to Terroun—the neighbouring territory. Craven had been waiting for me. Craven—my fated mate.

What had happened after that? I racked my brain.

The next morning, I'd woken to find Craven gone.

I'd heard the door open. I'd thought it was him, but when I checked...

Everything went black.

The next thing I remembered was waking up here. How long had I been here? Hours? Days? Where was Craven? If he was alive, he'd be searching for me. Of that I was certain.

I was hungry, but there was no food in the room. If whoever had done this had intended I should die, why go to all of this trouble? Someone would eventually have to bring me food, and when they did, I'd be ready for them.

*********

My sense of smell, which was usually so reliable, was over-powered by the sweet, sickly odour which seemed to permeate the whole building. I'd have to rely on my other senses. As the hours dragged by, I counted at least six different bird calls. I'd heard other sounds too—small creatures of some kind. I was almost certain I was in the countryside because I hadn't heard traffic or any other urban sounds. Outside, it was beginning to get dark, so I clicked the light switch on the wall next to the bed. The single light bulb barely illuminated the room. With night came a drop in temperature. It wasn't cold, but it was cool enough to warrant wrapping the bed cover around me. Sitting up on the bed, with my legs pulled up to my chest, I stared at the small window. The blue sky had been replaced by blackness. I tried to spot even a solitary star, but could see none.

I didn't have a watch, but my body clock sensed it had been at least eight hours since I'd first woken. Eight of the longest hours of my life. I'd had plenty of time to speculate who might be behind my imprisonment. There were a few obvious candidates. If Drake had seen me at my father's flat, he'd have reported it to Milton. If they were responsible for my father's death, they couldn't afford to leave me alive. One word of their betrayal and the rest of the pack would have turned on them. If Milton was behind it, why was I still breathing? While ever I was alive, I would be a threat to him. Could it be the vampires? I'd seen one of them in my father's flat—he'd been arguing with Drake. That explanation seemed less likely. Why would vampires go to all of this trouble? They'd kill me without a second thought. Another possibility was that Craven's own pack had turned against him. There would be those who resented the fact he'd welcomed an outsider not only into his pack, but as his mate. Perhaps there had been an uprising against him, but again that didn't explain why I was still alive. They'd have surely despatched me in short order.

Maybe it was the lack of food, or simply paranoia setting in, but another possibility kept forcing its way into my mind. It wasn't something I even wanted to consider. What if Craven was behind it? How well did I really know him? Well enough to share his bed, but what did that count for? He'd come into our territory to seek me out. He'd insisted I was his fated mate. It was an outrageous thing for any wolf to do, but for an Alpha it was nothing short of suicidal. Had it been no more than a ploy? Was it possible Craven had somehow been working with Milton to overthrow my father? A shiver ran down my spine. Had I unwittingly been responsible for my father's death? I
couldn't
believe that. I
wouldn't
believe that. And yet, Craven had been waiting for me when I fled to his territory. How had he known? He'd said he'd sensed the presence of his fated mate. Was he lying? Had this been the plan all along or should I have died in the nightclub? Nothing made any sense, and the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. 

It was pointless. I was going round and round in circles. I'd have answers soon enough when someone came to bring food. How long was it since I'd eaten? How many hours? Days?  I had no injuries as far as I could tell, so I assumed I must have been drugged. That would have accounted for the nausea which had now been replaced by an overwhelming hunger. Paranoia began to raise its head again—what if no one came? I had to get a grip. Such thoughts served no purpose and made no sense. Why would someone go to all of this trouble only to allow me to starve? Someone would come, and when they did I'd be ready.

*********

I didn't remember falling asleep, and yet when I opened my eyes, it was light outside. My right shoulder ached where I'd slept awkwardly.

As I walked over to the sink, I spotted it. A rectangular metal tray lay on the floor a few feet from the door. Just close enough to the bed so I could reach it.

“Anyone there? Hello?” I shouted. Again, there was no reply. The only sound was early morning birdsong. Whoever had delivered the food had gone.

I filled the mug with water, and then made my way across the cold floor to collect the tray. It had been placed with an element of precision. Another few inches closer to the door, and I wouldn't have been able to reach it. The food was good, but there wasn't nearly enough to satisfy my hunger. The bread, sliced meat and apple were all fresh, but together didn't amount to even one half of the calories my body needed.

The sleep and food had breathed at least some energy back into my body. Now I needed a plan—there must be some way out. Could I find a way to loosen the chain? What about a weapon? Was there anything I could use? Think! The next time someone came to deliver food I must make sure I was wide awake and waiting for them.