Broken Wolf: Moonbound Series, Book Seven (15 page)

O
wen Collins had spent
a month contemplating the nature of torture in a way that Adrian Rossi’s beatings would never touch. The definition of torture.

Clara
.

She had stretched out to sleep, less than a foot from him, but that foot was bisected by a ten-foot tall, often electrified, chain-link fence. To feel such intense desire for a beautiful, willing, and half-naked woman, but not be able to touch her...

Torture
.

Another night with no sleep, lying on his side, staring at Clara, and stroking his… beard. Even in the dark, he could see the curve of her hips and the weight of her unfettered breasts against the simple white fabric of the dress she wore. Breasts that moved with each breath, and that were always begging for his touch.

He was hard again. The tight cloth he wore around his midsection made erections almost painful. Although, he liked the pain. It made him able to focus.

Owen turned over to get Clara’s cascade of red hair out of his vision, only to be faced with the silent-sleeping madman in the next cage who also happened to be her half-brother. Gabriel Rossi on one side. Clara Rossi on the other. Owen’s erection in between.

This was hell
.

Sweet, sweet hell.

The night was quiet, and the guards had long-since passed on their rounds. It would’ve been in Owen’s best interests to sleep, but his desire for Clara kept him awake. Still, he could sense the movements around the island. There were visitors again, and that often meant the cage doors would open soon. They never knew when, but it was always coming.

The cage on the other side of Gabriel was empty again, as were the two that sidled up to Clara. The last of the red-haired boys had fallen on the last hunt, before Clara had been dropped in and Owen’s life had turned on its head.

Footsteps pounded on the path somewhere, far away. Several people at once. Almost to the cages.

This was it.

This hunt, it would have to be Gabriel that fell.

He flipped over and reached out to see if the fence was on. His wolf would heal him if it was—even though it would burn away the flesh on his fingers for a time. He was used to it.

The metal was cool to his touch, and Owen dragged himself across the ground. He whispered Clara’s name as low as he could, but she didn’t wake. He turned back to see if Gabriel’s breathing had changed. It hadn’t.

Owen grabbed a tiny rock and tossed it through the fence. It hit Clara’s nose and her face twitched. Warmth passed through him and he rested his head against the ground, watching her awaken.

He’d been watching Clara fall asleep and wake up for twenty-four days, and until she’d dropped into his life, he’d never realized he could be so aware of someone’s every move, breath and gesture. He’d never tire of watching her freckled nose wrinkle up as she woke. Or of watching her gold-green eyes flutter open. Or her limbs stretch off the sleep.

He wanted more mornings.

Owen put a finger up to his lips when she settled those green eyes on him.

She perked up and nodded. She must hear the footsteps. Now pounding harder, then stopping.

Clara scooted toward him, on her side, and reached for his hand that was still hooked into the fence. As soon as her skin was on his, his body lit up and his blood began to race through his veins.

The cold metal framed her beautiful lips as she offered them to him through the fence. He kissed her, hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Her sigh drove his hips toward the fence, but they stopped. As they always did.

He wasn’t going to do this in front of Gabriel. And there was always the chance that the approaching guards would turn on the electricity and burn Clara’s face or her hands… or Owen’s dick.

Fuckin’ torture, that’s what it is.

She pulled away and raised her head to look behind Owen. Her whisper was low, barely even more than her lips moving. “He’s still asleep.”

He nodded. “He’ll wake up when they get closer.”

The pounding feet split into two groups. It sounded like one group went back toward the center of the island, while the other continued on toward the cages. But he could never be certain, after not having been out of the back of the island for more than two years.

“Remember what I told you,” Owen whispered.

Clara nodded and put her head down level with his again. She moved her fingers against his, and a smile curled across her lips. “We’ll make it, Owen.”

“I know.” He rubbed his thumb along her palm, making circles absently. “We have to make it.”

Her eyes closed and she leaned her face against the ground. “We’ll make it, and we’ll get off this island, and we will live somewhere far from here, where Rossi can never find us again.”

“Don’t do that to her, Owen.” Gabriel’s voice was growly and tense, but loud. It tuned out all of the footsteps above them.

“Leave us alone, Gabe.”

“You know she’s not going to make it.”

Clara’s fingers gripped at his while her half-brother’s words sank in to Owen’s heart. It was ridiculous to think that they could hide anything from the seasoned, battle-hardened wolf. But Owen had to believe.

“Who knows? This might be the day
you
fall, man.” Owen didn’t stop gazing at Clara’s face. It was the only thing keeping him sane. He didn’t want to end up like Gabriel, raving and mad, even though he was surviving.

“I’m not going to die.”

Clara laughed. “Don’t listen to him, Owen. We’re both going to make it.”

With a loud clank, the top of the cage beside Clara flew open. All three of them sat up and turned their heads toward the sky. The lights glowed on and slowly illuminated the dark corners of the cages.

Clara stood and walked across to the other fence.

Owen got to his knees. He could sense her tension. Ever since she’d been dropped in, she was worried someone else would pay for her mistake. Every time a guard approached, she’d look up and repeat to herself,
Not Faye, not Faye, not Faye
.

But it wasn’t just Faye Clara worried about, and Owen knew it. She worried for
all
of them. Anyone who displeased Rossi. Everyone on the island was half a blink and a whim away from being in these cages.

“Wait,” Clara hissed, perking up. “They’re saying the wolf spell.”

Owen’s mouth went dry. The chanting Gaelic words. He remembered those words. They’d been the last thing he’d heard as a human being.

A body flew through the air and landed with a hard
thud
in the cage beside Clara. The man’s back was bloody, some of his flesh hanging in shards. Owen recognized that beating.

Rossi
.

Many of the men and boys—and all of the girls—who were thrown in to one of the various cages had backs like this. The mess didn’t last long, as their wolves healed them, but it was always hard to see.

Clara’s back had looked like that the day he first saw her.

“What the hell?” Gabe growled.

“Who is that?” Clara asked, half disbelieving.

She didn’t recognize him
?

Owen stood and looked around Clara at the man’s heaving shoulders. He had dark hair and severe angles to his face. A blow to his head had covered one eye and one cheek in blood.

“Isn’t it Luther?” he asked.

“No,” Clara said. “Luther’s bald. Plus, he got off the island.” Her hopeful tone turned dark when she added, “I heard it from Damon.”

Owen heard more footsteps and inclined his head toward the opening in the top of the cage.

They were bringing someone else.

“Whoever the hell it is, we’d better get ready. This is usually when it starts.” Gabe’s anger was low, barely leashed. He’d made it clear over the two years Owen had known him, he didn’t care about anyone.

The stranger pushed himself up with unsteady arms and looked around the cage. “Who are you people?” His gaze traveled all over the fences, the back wall, then up to the top. His eyes went wide when he saw the opening.

“Don’t even think about trying it,” Owen warned. “The top of the cage is electrified fence.”

“But it’s open,” the stranger whispered.

“Leave him alone,” Gabe hissed in a low voice. “He’s the answer to your stupid prayers.” Owen turned around and found Gabriel glaring at him, holding the links and looking purposefully at Clara. “Do you want to help, or do you want to live?”

His throat closed around his response. He wanted to live. He wanted Clara to live, to escape.

Suddenly, another body dropped through the hole and the top of the cage dropped back into place. A black-haired woman landed near the bloodied stranger. The man crawled toward her, whispering, “Andrea.”

The woman grabbed him, relief flooding her voice. “Vadik. Oh, Vadik. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive. When I couldn’t feel you…” The man’s lips were stopped by her fervent kiss and Clara’s head turned.

She glanced back at Owen, her eyes full of emotion. He tried to reach for her, but the fence prevented him, as it always did.

He crooked a finger at her, but she turned back to the couple, who continued to whisper anxiously to each other.

Gabriel grunted from behind him.

This was all they could ever do. Watch.

But if there’d been so much movement on the island, the hunt wasn’t far off, and with the guards still hovering up above them, near the controls, it wasn’t long before those doors would pop open, and they’d all be on their own against the elements and the hunters and the collars.

“Look, lovebirds,” he said. “I hate to do this, but you’d better get up and get ready.”

The couple—Andrea and Vadik—looked frantic and harried. They embraced and continued to whisper.

Owen gestured for Clara again. After two years of hunts, he could feel when they were about to happen.

The cage buzzed and the latched doors in the front of the cages flipped open. Clara let out a tiny whine and called his name. The moment he’d dreamed of a thousand times. The cage doors were open. He ran out of his jail and offered his hand to her.

Andrea and Vadik stared at them. The poor fools. They didn’t know what was happening yet. But they’d figure it out.

Owen pulled Clara away from the fence and glared at the dark-haired stranger.

“Run,” he said, and took off into the darkness with Clara stumbling along behind him. He wasn’t responsible for the strangers. He only needed to get Clara out of there.

Alive.

T
his part
of the island was more jungle than where Adrian Rossi’s villa lay. She was used to stone pathways and water features; food that wasn’t tossed onto the ground to eat. For almost a month, she’d been treated like an animal. Kept in a cage. She was filthy and grimy and everything smelled like the bathroom in the men’s barracks where she’d had to clean once a month.

Owen tugged her through the forest, his shaggy blonde fluttering in breeze behind him. He knew where he was going. Every step, every turn had purpose.

Gabriel’s wolf had run a few paces alongside them and then taken off in the opposite direction when the footpath split.

“What about those other two people?” What if they knew about Faye? They weren’t from the island. She knew everyone on the island.

“They have to take care of themselves, Clara. We have to go. The hunter is out here and our collars could activate at any moment.”

Clara ran her fingertips over the metal locked around her neck. Hard. Cold. And humming with energy. Owen had warned her what would happen, but the actual moment those gates had opened, her heart nearly stopped. She yanked backward, breaking Owen’s stride. “We have to go back. They don’t know what’s happening.”

He shook his head and tugged her forward again. “I told them to run.”

“Owen.” She yanked her hand from his grasp. “We can’t just let them die.”

“I don’t want
you
to die. If we go back into the open, we’re easy targets. They’re on their own. When the collars activate, you stay with me.” He cupped her face and stared deep into her eyes. “Stay with me.” His blue eyes reflected his concern and she wanted so much to stay lost in them, but she’d never forgive herself if they didn’t at least give that other couple a fighting chance to avoid being slaughtered.

Clara nodded. “I’ll stay with you, if we go back to warn them.”

Owen growled, showing flecks of gold in his eyes. “This is what got you thrown in this hell hole to begin with. Caring about other people more than yourself.”

She smiled. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Maybe they were able to save Faye. Maybe they know what happened to her.”

“We’re being hunted. Right now. A man with a rifle, a scope, and bullets that can separate your leg from your body is looking for us. This is not the time to play savior.”

Clara took a step backward and lifted her chin. Those two people were lost; wounded and confused. They didn’t deserve to die because no one told them they could be shot at any moment. “You can keep running, but I’m going to warn them.”

“Clara.”

She smiled again. Owen was growling her name in frustration, but his tone said she’d won. She couldn’t see the frown through the messy blond beard, but she knew it was there. “Let’s hurry.” She took off back the way they’d come, pushing herself hard.