Caged Wolf (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 2) (3 page)

It had been dark then, and rain had fallen. The streets were wet and air damp. Blood oozed from her lip, and every muscle in her body hurt. She could barely see out of one eye. Today, the sun was still in the clear sky, though the humidity blanketed the air with dampness. The sick feeling cresting in her stomach threatened to hurtle her back to that horror—because today, as then, someone chased her.

I didn’t escape then…
How the hell would she manage it now? A hand grabbed her and she fought. Whirling, she struck out with her purse and her nails, but she hit nothing. Instead, both of her arms were wrenched behind her. Fighting the hold twisted her muscles and pain screamed through her.

“Stop, I don’t want to hurt you.” The cold snap in the woman’s voice slapped her out of the past.

Staring into her eyes, she couldn’t read her, didn’t have any idea why she was there and couldn’t think of any reason to believe her.
Run, dammit
. The surge came from that primal part of her brain, the animal hindbrain as one of her professors had called it jokingly. Higher functions like reason and logic helped people govern and make decisions, but the hindbrain? It kept them alive.

Vivian opened her mouth and screamed.  The woman shifted her grip, scowled and then shoved a hand over her mouth.

“Dammit,” her captor growled. “We
don’t
want to hurt you.”

Not wanting to hurt someone and not hurting them were two incredibly separate things. She couldn’t breathe. The force covering her mouth and nose cut off her air. Spots danced in front of her eyes. Nothing she did broke the woman’s hold.

In the distance, Linc fought with the other man. He was trying to help her. Drowning in déjà vu, she fought harder and her lungs burned. The spots became darkness and the world blinked out.

Chapter Two

A.J. had no idea how long he slept. As promised, Ryan stopped for food on the way to Willow Bend. He divvied out several burgers each and, while the older wolf finished his share easily, A.J. struggled to finish one. The french fries were too greasy, the meat too rich, and the strawberry shake too sweet. He stared at the thick, creamy confection in confusion.

“Taste bad?” Ryan asked. He’d parked away from the building and they ate standing outside the vehicle, more to let A.J. stretch his legs than for any other reason. The older wolf didn’t comment on his sorry state.

Grateful for small mercies, he shrugged. He’d certainly had worse in prison. Bland, tasteless, and sometimes difficult to even digest. Now, as then, he ate and drank what was in front of him.

“Seriously, man, if it tastes bad. I’ll get you something else. You asked for the shake.”

The statement caught him off guard. Glancing across the car, he met Ryan’s gaze, but only for a split second. “What?”

“You asked for a strawberry shake. I asked if you wanted anything in particular with your burgers. You said strawberry.”

Unable to make the connections easily, A.J. considered his words. Strawberries—Vivian smelled like strawberries. He’d been thinking about her. “This is fine.” Ill used to speaking often, his voice sounded rusty. “Didn’t expect it to be so sweet.” She was. Sweet, tart—
how do I even know that? All I’ve ever known was broken and shattered Vivian.
She smelled like strawberries. He took a long drink of the shake. Three more tough swallows and he had to stop. His stomach cramped violently. Bracing a hand on the car’s hood, he fought the urge to vomit the food back up.

“Slow it down.” Ryan was next to him, one hand on his shoulder. “You’ve probably been eating pretty piss poor food. God knows you’ve lost weight.” Genuine caring threaded the wolf’s terse tones. Weird. What A.J. remembered of Ryan had more to do with the man busting A.J. and his brothers from one escapade or another. Tough, dominant, and not to be messed with—though Mason took the brunt of Ryan’s displeasure where his daughter was concerned. Alexis had always been too scrawny.

Odd. He hadn’t thought about her in years. Or any of them really. Mason left, Alexis left. A.J.—
I left, too.
Nearness served its purpose. The urge to be sick receded as the other wolf kept a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“It’s too open,” he admitted. They were at the very edge of the lot, surrounded by greenbelt and trees. The restaurant behind them wasn’t doing brisk business—not as much as the gas pumps—just another nondescript pit stop on the side of a highway. Overhead, fat white clouds drifted through a blue sky. The air was cool, but the vehicle hot from running. Every car passing on the highway left an echo of engine hum behind it.

Sunshine. Open air. Trees. Grass. Another wolf.
Some portion of his mind catalogued every aspect, understood them on a visceral level as the taste of freedom. Like the too heavy burger and the too sweet shake, it was too much and made him sick.

“Deep, slow breaths. Do you remember your training?” The words might as well have been in a foreign language. His training? Upon entering puberty, pack youths were segregated by level of dominance into specific training. One track focused on combat, one for tracking, a smaller one for healing, and still another for those mid-level and most likely designated for a trade or teaching position. While Willow Bend didn’t adhere to a caste system as strictly as some packs, those initial months of training remained crucial to future success.

Puberty could inflame a potential dominant, turn a healer inside out and, for those trapped in between? It could be worse. Designed to teach them methods of self-control, the class discipline kept them focused. Yes, he remembered his training.

Jerking away from Ryan, A.J. made it to the edge, where pavement gave way to nature, before he emptied his stomach. In the past, this type of episode would have humiliated him. But, frankly, he couldn’t fall much further than he had.

Ryan said nothing, merely brought him a bottle of water and—of all things—a toothbrush. He rinsed his mouth out, then brushed his teeth while the other wolf disposed of the meal remnants including the strawberry shake. For the first time, A.J. was grateful for Vivian’s absence and inability to witness his weakness. Fortunately, he got the tremors under control by the time Ryan returned to the vehicle with a second Styrofoam container.

“I made this myself, bought the bread and the can of beans.” He flipped it open and passed it. Inside were two pieces of toast under some pork and beans. Bland to be certain, but his stomach rumbled at the scents. “I also grabbed you some ginger ale and a couple bottles of water.”

“Thank you.” He dug into the food with more eagerness than he realized he possessed. The taste satisfied without overwhelming him. He drained the ginger ale in two long swallows, then finished the toast and beans. Only once he’d finished did he notice the approval on Ryan’s face.

“I can make you more.”

Tempting, but his stomach gave a twinge of a cramp in protest. “No, I’m good. That was good.” He coughed, cleared his throat then unscrewed the water bottle to take a long swallow. “We should get home. You said people were waiting.”

“Yes, we should.” But he made no move to get in the car.

When the silence stretched to a painful length, he glanced at the older wolf once more. Each time, meeting his gaze became easier. Easier, but not more comfortable. “Sir?”

“You haven’t asked about any of them.”

Worry spiked an icy stake in his spine. “Is something wrong with them?” His parents? Brothers? Younger sister?

“They’re fine, healthy, managing. But you haven’t asked.”

The hard knot of tension formed during his initial statement relaxed. “You said they were waiting for me.” At least, he thought Ryan had said that. Earlier, at the courthouse or maybe in the parking lot? Trying to remember forced some of the fog clouding his mind away, and the further it retreated, the more raw pain it revealed. He’d rather not think, if it were all the same to Ryan.

“I did. Most would ask about their families. Be hungry for information.”

A.J. snorted. “Most would have heard from them in the last six years. Let’s not pretend this is a normal situation.” Pacing away from the older wolf, he turned his back on him. A vulnerable position—would Ryan take advantage of it? Did it matter? Cunning and dangerous, Ryan Huston might be the pack attorney, but he’d never been soft or easy.

“They were forbidden to do so,” Ryan said, an odd note in his voice.

The news didn’t surprise him. His family’s obedience to the Alpha had to be absolute or they wouldn’t still be in Willow Bend. “Then I don’t have much to ask, do I?”

Though he clearly wished to say more, Ryan let the conversation end. The next three hours passed in relative silence. A.J. slept for most of the drive. The closer they drew to pack land, the greater his unease. Twice he snapped awake from nightmares—Vivian was in danger. He’d yelled at her to run, but she hadn’t been fast enough.

After the second dream, he refused to sleep. He’d not cried out, but Ryan’s attention was definitely on him. His heart thudded painfully, knocking on his ribs harder for every mile closer they drew to home.

Home.

What a strange fucking concept. His home was a six by four foot cell constructed of concrete and steel bars. His days were dictated by meals and work assignments. And his nights? They’d been spent trying to forget where he was, running in the only place he could.

His dreams.

Until, even there, he’d simply stopped. The nightmares about Vivian were the first dreams he’d had in a long time. He couldn’t put his finger on when they’d stopped. The first year? The second? Time lost meaning when he’d stopped anticipating the…“When is full moon?”

Another sharp look from Ryan, but he only said, “A couple of weeks yet.”

They weren’t moon called, not truly, but nearly every wolf craved the full of the moon. They changed, ran together, hunted, and let the animal half of their souls be free. Habit, more than nature, dictated their actions. Few, if any, could resist the change once the rest of the pack began to shift. Only the strongest of dominants could hold their forms.

Maybe he would be dead before the moon rose and he heard them all shifting around him. A wretched, dark part of his soul let out the tiniest of whimpers. Hell would take on a new definition if he had to endure a moon where everyone save him could run.

The trees gave way to a small, suburban town. Kids played on the sidewalks and in the yards while parents tended to the grass or the gardens. They passed several clusters of pack, the different scents assaulting him until soon he couldn’t sort one from another. Too many. Some achingly familiar.

Ryan bypassed the road leading to Toman’s great house and continued toward the old Bonner section—A.J.’s neighborhood. Straightening in his seat, the first hint of eagerness leaked into his system.

He would be allowed to see his family first? “Has Toman grown more merciful in my absence?” No sooner had he asked the question than he wished he’d kept his silence. Ryan worked for their Alpha. He might be his own man, and a kind one at times, but he owed his allegiance to Toman first above all others, except his mate.

“Toman’s dead, boy.”

In a day of shocks, the news rocked him. “Dead?”

“For several months now.”

If Toman is dead then…
“Who is the Alpha?”

Ryan turned onto the street where A.J.’s family had lived—and apparently still did. Three stories high, with a second floor wraparound porch and a rose garden one could smell from a mile away, the Buckley house appeared exactly the same as he remembered it. His father had some money and, though they had room on their street for more homes, he’d owned most of the land and kept it open, wild and untamed. With a houseful of boys, Virgil Buckley had declared he’d need the space if he was ever to have some quiet.

“Mason Clayborne.”

A second shock. “He came home.”

“Yes, he did.” Ryan parked the car. The front door of the house flew open and A.J.’s heart stuttered. Claudia Buckley strode out of the house and down the walk. Dressed in slacks and a loose cotton blouse, she looked more like a woman in her thirties than one approaching sixty. Galvanized by the sight of her, A.J. pushed open the car door and made it around the vehicle in time to meet her.

The ferocity of her hug rocked him. His arms were slow to return the embrace then the scent of his mother filled his lungs. The thunder of several feet echoed from the porch. Then his father was there and Ranae, his younger sister, and Tyler. Tyler thumped his back. The only one missing was Linc.

His mother ordered the others off him after several minutes. She scowled as she took in his appearance and he felt his shoulders droop. “None of that,” she said, her voice stiff with unshed tears. “Into the house, shower, eat then bed. Ranae, go to the store and pick up cauliflower, the fresher the better, and some steaks, medium cuts. Tyler, go upstairs and finish getting A.J.’s room ready for him.”

At the orders, his siblings scattered and Virgil gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Do as your mother says. We’ll talk at supper.” Then he walked over to speak to Ryan.

“Don’t I have to see the Alpha?” Toman was dead. The thought still stunned him. Mason Clayborne as Alpha. A year ahead of A.J. and his brothers in school, Mason had gone Lone Wolf at seventeen after his father’s Alpha Challenge failed. They’d been friends of a sort, before he’d been locked away.

“That’ll keep. Tonight and tomorrow, you’re ours.” Claudia wrapped an arm around his waist and marched him toward the house. He leaned on her more than he cared to admit, but she didn’t complain. “His mate’s just given birth to their cub.”

“He’s mated?” Information overload.

“Oh, yes.” His mother grinned wide, obviously delighted with whomever the lucky woman was. “Alexis Huston, you remember her? Ryan’s daughter?”

Yes, but wasn’t she human? Had she taken the bite?
He nodded once.

“Well, she had a little girl just a few days ago and she’s still recovering. All of them are really. So you can meet with Mason after you’ve rested up and gotten some meat on your bones.” Inside, she pointed toward the stairs. “Now, go shower. Your clothes are in your room. Tyler can help, if you need anything…”