The wolf-turned-man continues to meet my gaze and raises an eyebrow. Niles snorts, mumbling to no one in particular, "Either she's got big balls or a loose screw"

"Take her," the wolf-man says, speaking for the first time. His voice is soft and low but carries across the field.

At his command, I am descended upon. Nia gets pulled from my arms and one of the ones who dragged me over asks, "What do we do with the other one?"

Was I the other one or was Nia?

The wolf-man and the one with the long hair who I'd thought was the leader but is clearly subordinate to the wolf-man, both begin walking away, their bodies morphing into gigantic wolves as they go.

Just as his hand shifts, the wolf-man waves it in a circular motion pointing down.

I’m not sure what that means but, it ends up with me getting hit in the back of the head and dragged away unconscious.

When I finally come to, my head is pounding and my legs feel stiff and useless. I don't want to move, to open my eyes. Even breathing feels like a lot of effort. Slowly, as the grogginess recedes, I hear voices above and beside me.

"I don't get why we're bringing her back. Alpha has definitely killed for less."

"Maybe he took pity. It could hardly walk."

" All the more reason. Pups are killed for less, too."

"God, you're morbid tonight."

I crack an eye open and am greeted with what looks like the back of a car seat. Without turning my head, I let my eyes roam around enough to know that I am indeed inside a fairly large vehicle laying across the laps of two men. I don't recognize either of them from earlier in the night but, I hadn’t noticed much else around me minus the three who apparently sealed my fate. At least these two are wearing clothing or laying across them would be a lot more uncomfortable.

One of the men mockingly whispers to the other “Do you think we should let her know that we know she's awake?"

I sigh audibly and try to sit up but laying on my side across the two of them makes it difficult, especially since there doesn't seem to be room for me. Both men take up the entire back seat of the car.

"Just stay put, sweetheart" the one who is holding my lower half demurrers. The way he says sweetheart was sickening.

It’s all too much. I want to throw up and if it lands on them, all the better. I try to swallow but my tongue feels like sandpaper. I roll my neck to try to lessen the stiffness and wonder how long I’ve been out.

"Are we almost there yet? Could we have just put her in the trunk?" the one by my feet grumbles and shifts under me.

His jostling of my legs sent sharp pain shooting up my thighs and into my lower back. I’ve definitely overdone it tonight. A wave of dread runs through me. Can I even walk at this point?

I lay across them for what feels like an eternity when the car makes a sharp turn and comes to a stop on a gravel driveway. Both men get out at the same time, dumping me onto the car seat as they go. Then the one by my head grabs me from under my armpits and pulls me out of the car like a sack of potatoes.

I half expect him to swing me over his shoulder but instead, he puts me down, his arm secure around my waist supporting my weight as I hobble-walk next to him.

I think about fighting against him but dismiss the idea as soon as it comes to me. I clearly can't get away - not just because I can barely walk but also because these men are both twice my size and I have no idea where I am. Not to mention I don't know if Nia was alive or dead.

Steeling myself for whatever comes next, I look ahead and see what I can only describe as if Abraham Lincoln's log cabin had been built by 21st-century nouveau riche.

It’s a colossal building of wood and glass. A huge porch wraps around the building and large three-story windows set on either side of a gigantic set of double doors show a massive entranceway. It’s basically a castle but a lot more rustic.

As I am dragged up the driveway, I try to think of another private residence I've seen that was anywhere near this large and can't. It certainly isn’t what I expected when I was kidnapped by a gang of naked wolf-humans.

We don't go in the front doors but rather trudge through the grass around to the back, up onto the porch, and then into a kitchen that looks like it belongs in a hotel. We enter on the top story of the two-floor kitchen, which looks like a prep area with large counters and glass cabinets full of dishes and glassware. Along both walls are wide staircases.

We take the nearest one down into the main part of the kitchen, which has more burners than I can count and multiple doors along one wall that look like they lead into walk-in fridges.

On the far side of the kitchen is a set of double doors. We go through those into a hallway that’s well-lit but sparse with hardwood floors and clean, white walls. The two men, one still keeping me upright, lead me down and practically drag me along, past a number of doors before stopping in front of an open one.

Inside there’s a bed pushed up against one side, the rest of the room is bare. The man, more gently than I would have anticipated, brings me inside and sets me down on the bed. Wordlessly, he leaves and closes the door behind him. I hear the soft click of a lock and know I’m not getting out.

Where would I go anyway?

Nia.

Her name bounces around inside my head as all the emotions I've been too overwhelmed to feel come rushing at me all at once. I gingerly bring my knees up to my chest and curl up on my side, giving in to the terror and sadness. My teeth chatter as my whole body trembles. I lie there, eyes open but seeing nothing.

I am lost, alone, and my sister was taken from me. The best I can hope for is that she is alive. And mom, oh God. What will Mom do? And Dad?

"Nia." Tears begin to fall, dripping down the side of my face and onto the tan bed linens.

Would I ever see her again?

I don't remember falling asleep but I must have because I am woken up by a pair of rough hands forcing me into a sitting position. I open my eyes and am greeted by the crotch of a man I definitely don't know well enough to have his dick be that close to my face.

I crane my neck back and see it’s the man who had carried me in earlier.

"Are you my jailer?" I ask, surprised at the acid dripping from my tongue. I don't feel particularly angry. I don't really feel anything.

He snorts at the question and hoists me to my feet. "Don't suppose you can walk?" he asks as he lets go of my shoulders. Without responding I begin to teeter back, almost falling onto the bed. I most definitely can walk but the unceremonious way they are tossing me about isn’t helping.

He grabs my shoulders and pulls me upright, "Seems not."

I decide not to correct him, thinking he will help me walk like before but it seems there isn't time for that. Instead, he throws me over his shoulder. I think about protesting the treatment. About pounding in his back and demanding to be treated with dignity but something tells me it won't get me anywhere and I am better off conserving my strength.

He takes me back out into the hallway but instead of going back through the double doors we turn right and go up a different staircase. We enter a part of the complex that looks vastly different from the corner I’ve stayed in. Everything here is polished, warm, and bright even at night.

At the end of this hallway is another door and before we enter I notice that we must be off the side of the main entryway; a huge space that looks more like a ballroom and foyer. We enter another staircase and go up a few more flights. I try to keep track of where we are going but my mind is too jumbled.

As we enter a room with mahogany paneling and deep maroon rugs, he finally puts me down. I surprise myself and my captor by standing on my own in the middle of the room.

Against one wall is a large fireplace but it isn't lit, which makes sense since it’s an unexpectedly warm night at the end of September. Across from that is a large desk and high-backed office chair. Behind it are windows that take up the entire wall, floor to ceiling, but it’s too dark outside to see.

I look back over my shoulder and see that my carrier has excused himself. I am alone in someone's office.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I go back to studying my surroundings. The other two walls are lined with bookshelves but they look more ornamental than like someone actually reads their contents. On the far side of the room is another door and I have a feeling that bad things are waiting on the other side.

I stand there for a few minutes more, not knowing if I should sit down in one of the chairs by the fireplace or just stay where I am. Right as I’m about to give in and sit to relieve the pain in my knee, the door across from me opens.

At first, I don't recognize the man, mostly due to the fact he is dressed. His body fills the door frame, making me feel utterly insignificant compared to him. He’s wearing dark blue slacks and a well-fitted white button-down with the top few undone. The sleeves are rolled up revealing a hatchwork of scars.

I study him for a moment and he seems to pause as if giving me time to drink it all in. When I finally get to his face, I am greeted with a smug smile and amber eyes. If those weren’t a big enough giveaway, the long set of scars on his right cheek makes it clear.

We stay like that, the only sound is a clock ticking and my breath coming out in short bursts.

Finally, he rolls his massive shoulders back and laughs, actually laughs, like seeing me is the funniest thing to happen to him today. This man has taken my sister from me and with a casual wave of his hand he has kidnapped me and done, God knows what, to Nia.

Nia. My knees almost give out and I reach for the back of the closest chair for support. He doesn't come any closer, seeingly unmoved by my weakness or emotional state.

I can't bring myself to look back at him as I ask, barely above a whisper, "Is she dead? Did you, did you kill her?"

"Why do you think I'd kill her?"

My head shoots up in shock. I feel fury burn hot in my belly at the idiocy of his question and it gives me courage as I spit, "I saw what you did to those people. You murdered them!"

He seems to find my answer amusing as he smirks and replies "Ah, so then I am more than capable of killing a defenseless little girl?" He chuckles, shaking his head.

"You did, didn't you?" I counter, my voice rising.

'Kill her? Sure, yes. I killed her. Does that make it all better?"

The fire inside me goes out, doused by his words. He's voiced my worst nightmares so casually as if asking about the weather or what I’d like to drink.

"Of course not!" I barely get out, choking on the lump in my throat. My stomach twists and I want to throw up. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I gasp, trying so hard to maintain any semblance of composure.

His grin widens revealing far longer than normal canines. It gives a whole new meaning to a wolfish grin. "Is that all you wanted, little one? Just to confirm what you'd already decided to be true? Then you've gotten what you came for. Your sister is dead and we're all monsters here. Welcome, welcome."

I wish for once that I had a quippy reply to wipe that sanctimonious smirk off his face, but all I can do is gawk.

He keeps talking, giving me an explanation of what would happen to me now, but I don’t hear any of it as the news that my sweet, baby sister is gone plays on repeat in my head.

A hand grips my chin and forces me to look up. Through blurred vision, I meet his unwavering gaze. "You'd do well to listen, little one. Humans don't tend to last long, let alone," he pauses, looking me over as if appraising me, "Damaged ones".

My fury suddenly returns with a vengeance and I slap his hand away. "Don't," I managed to get out before his hand snaps back and wraps around my throat.

"Don’t? ‘Don’t’ what? You're alive at my whim. In this house, I am the law, the judge, the executioner. If I broke your neck right now a maid would come in and roll your body away. You'd be buried in a shallow ditch with your family none the wiser and no one here would bat an eye, let alone mourn you." He smiles again as my eyes grow to the size of saucers.

My lip begins to quiver so I bite down, hoping the pain will keep the tears at bay.

"Yes, that's it. I think you’re starting to get it now. You know," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my cheek, “You’re almost pretty when you cry.”

Bile rises in my throat. I can’t stomach that he can touch me like this, without recourse, and condescend me when I am drowning in grief.

"Don't touch me!" I hiss but make no move to push his hand away this time, for fear of him doing something worse.

He squeezes tighter and I feel pinpricks, like a set of needles, press into the side of my neck. Blood wells up and slowly drips onto my shoulder but I keep my eyes on him.

"I am not yours. I am not property."

He laughs, a sharp, forced sound, and pulls me to him, still gripping me by the neck. His other arm wraps around me pressing the length of my body against his. "Actually that's exactly what you are. My Betas’ convinced me it would be better than killing you. I'm surprised they even tried. We normally accept these sorts of losses as collateral damage."

His hand leaves my neck and cups my cheek. It’s so large that it covers the entire side of my face. "I am not cruel. I am what I am and I do what I do to protect this pack. You will live here and survive so long as you do not endanger us. And the moment I feel you are an unnecessary risk is the moment you'll die, one way or another." His other hand trails down my back and cups my ass, pulling me up his body until I am straddling his hips in mid-air.

"Your purpose is to serve. In what way remains to be seen.”

I feel like I should be crying again but it’s like I've used up my allotment for the year. I am also feeling strangely out of sorts with my emotions; my head is filled with grief and horror but my body is more interested in every aspect of him than the clear danger I am in.

“Why keep me and kill her?” I ask, trying to hold onto my rage as I feel it slipping away. I don’t want to look at him anymore but with our faces so close there isn't much else to see.

I focus on his scars. One of them runs close to the corner of his lip and ever so slightly tugs it up, giving him a permanent smirk. Or maybe he’s always smirking and the scar isn't to blame. His lips are full and parted as I look at them, his tongue flicking out to lick the lower one.

I immediately look back up to his eyes and find them dancing. "If you're going to look at me like a piece of meat it's only fair I return the favor."

"I'm not," I sputter, "I wasn't!" I push off his chest and am surprised when he lets go and I fall to the floor like a rag doll.

“To answer your question, perhaps I am cruel, after all. You’d be in a lot less misery if you were dead in her place, wouldn't you? Though you don’t seem too miserable, little one.” He looks down at me, with that same condescending smile, as he straightens his shirt.

My face feels hot like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t have. I don’t understand why my feelings were swinging all over the place. I can’t seem to hold onto my anger or sadness. I look away from him again and focus on getting up, using the bookcase as support.

"Yes, I'm sure I will find uses for you. They'll show you back to your room," he says as he goes around the desk and sits down. He opens his laptop and it’s like I’m not there anymore.

"They?" As I ask, the door opens and a woman and man walk in. The woman is smaller than the ones I saw earlier.

Is she human too?

The man is the expected over-six-foot and broad-shouldered, though he isn’t nearly as big as the one who just assaulted me.

It then occurs to me to ask "who are you?"

He looks up from his keyboard as the man who's just come in wraps a hand around my arm and begins steering me out.

"Why, I am the Alpha."

I blink at him. "Alpha?"

"Yes, and that's the only way you should address me."

He goes back to his computer and I’m led out, the woman closing the door behind us. I follow after them as they lead me to a different room along the same hallway as I was in before. This room is a bit larger than the first one I was in. On the opposite wall to the bed, the corner has been built out into the room to form a small square with an accordion door to house a toilet and sink.

The walls are a soft blue and the sheets and curtains match.

Curtains!

That means a window. Forgetting I’m not alone, I hobble over only to find that there is indeed a window but it’s no more than a foot high and all the way up by the ceiling. Still, I look up at it, the sky accentuated by the porch lights but everything else is a blanket of darkness.

I turn back to see that the man has left and the woman is standing in front of the closed door.

"Are you one of them?" I ask, my voice cold.

"No," she replies, sounding disinterested. "I am Myra. Alpha said I should help you settle in. You'll be working with the human staff. There are five of us, we live in this section of the house together. Please be courteous after dark.”

I blink at that. Courteous? Like I was living with roommates, not a captive.

She continues, unaware of my confusion, “Tomorrow morning I will come and get you. Please be showered and in your uniform."

I look around and see a neat pile of clothes on the table next to the bed.

"You will shadow me this first week and then you will be on your own."

I nod but none of this makes any sense to me. She seems to take my nod as confirmation that it’s all clear so she turns to leave. Just as the door is about to close, she sticks her head back in and asks, “What are your measurements?”

“What?”

“Bra and underwear.”

My eyes widen and I’m speechless for long enough that she clears her throat, “If you don’t want any, that's fine by me.”

Not having anything clean to wear seems worse than sharing private information so I rattle off the sizes. She only nods again and closes the door.

I wait a second before testing the door handle, it’s unlocked, which is a surprise. I poke my head down the hallway to see Myra enter a room at the end. I guess she lives here as well, just like she said.

Is this my chance?

I use the wall to prop myself up and head towards the kitchen. A quick peek inside shows it’s empty. I scramble across, up the stairs, and am blessed with a clear way out. I step onto the porch and take a moment to rest, my back against the exterior of the house.

Could it really be that easy? Could I just walk away?

"He'll kill you," a voice says from the shadows.

I stiffen and press myself closer to the wall, wishing to God to melt into it.

As if he had been part of the shadows, a man emerges from the darkness with catlike grace. I remember him from earlier. Now, seeing him closer with the light of the kitchen illuminating half of his face, he reminds me a lot of an actor I'd seen in a Korean TV show on Netflix, Mr. Sunshine. His long, black hair is tied back, away from his face.

He responds to my unasked question of ‘Who?’ by inclining his head upwards, "Alpha will not allow you to leave. I wouldn't recommend trying."

I’d known that was probably the case but I needed to try, didn't I? How can I just stay here and cook or clean or whatever they would have me do when Nia is gone and my mom has lost us both?

"Why are you warning me about anything?"

"It is my job to have his best interests in mind and killing you is not in his best interests."

The answer surprises me. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that. Alpha already killed a lot tonight. What would one more death mean to the likes of him?

For the second time that night, I ask, "Who are you?"

"I am Beta Kane."