Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
A tremor started in her ankles and crept up her legs. Not now. Not when she needed to be at full strength. Her arms started to shake, and panic clawed at her chest. What the hell was wrong with her?
The vehicle traveled for what felt like forever before finally jerking to a stop. The sudden halt sent her tumbling forward, slamming her shoulder against the hard metal. Groaning, she rolled onto her hands and knees again, her muscles tensed to spring.
A heavy fist pounded against the trunk lid above her.
“Hey. I’ve got a gun loaded with silver bullets, and I’ll use it if you try anything. Don’t test me.”
Emily froze. The trunk latch clicked, and the lid sprang open. Fresh air and the scents of damp earth and pine rushed in. Squinting against the sudden light, Emily’s gaze locked onto the male standing several feet away, gun raised and aimed directly at her.
He held the weapon steady, eyes cold with a warning. He’d have more than enough time to fire if she lunged now.
“Get out,” he ordered.
Swallowing back a curse, Emily grabbed the trunk’s ledge and eased herself onto the muddy ground. Her white silk pajamas clung to her damp skin, offering little protection against the cool air. Vulnerability crept through her, but she shoved it aside. She just needed one opening to take him down.
She squinted through the darkness at the kidnapper standing several feet away. He had removed his mask, revealing a rugged face with sharp angles and dark eyes that reflected the dim moonlight. Long, blond hair, tied neatly at the nape of his neck, framed his face. Broad shoulders stretched his worn jacket, and he stood with the confidence of someone who knew how to handle himself.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” He gestured with the gun—some kind of semi-automatic pistol that could fire multiple rounds without pause. “Walk over there.”
Emily’s eyes flicked to the rocky path ahead, the jagged stones and rough dirt patches promising to punish her bare feet. She calculated the distance between them. Even if she shifted, he’d have time to get off at least one shot, if not several. The odds weren’t in her favor.
“Fine,” she muttered, turning and walking with measured steps, ignoring the sting in her feet. She wouldn’t give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing her stumble.
The path led to a dark, crumbling cabin crouched against overgrown trees. Splintered wood clung to the weather-beaten frame, and two broken stairs creaked beneath her weight as she climbed them and pushed open the warped door. Inside, the air smelled of dust and damp wood.
Cracks showed in the walls, but no moonlight meant no illumination. Thankfully, her wolf sight still worked, even if her feet didn’t. The place was a dump with bare wooden floorboards, a few mismatched lawn chairs, and a folding table cluttered with scattered papers. The chairs were the cheap, collapsible kind sold at gas stations, faded from sun exposure and fraying at the seams. Dust clung to every surface, and the air carried a chill that seeped into her skin.
“Nice place,” she muttered.
“Sit,” he ordered, gesturing with the pistol.
Emily lowered herself into one of the chairs, biting back a sigh as she took the pressure off her legs. Weakness continued to pulse beneath her skin, a reminder that this illness wanted to kill her. Or at least slow her down enough that she couldn’t fight.
The male moved with slow precision, lighting several lanterns placed around the cabin. The soft yellow glow cast long shadows across the walls, and the crackle of a match followed as he tossed the flame into a wide stone fireplace already stacked with kindling. Firelight danced against the stone, offering a small reprieve from the cold air seeping through the walls.
“Who are you?” Emily asked again.
“I was just hired to obtain you alive,” he replied, his voice carrying a bored edge that matched the dull gleam in his eyes.
Great. Alive didn’t mean unharmed. “Why?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
She studied him, her pulse steady despite the tension tightening her muscles. “We’ve never met, have we?”
“Nope.” His smile was slow, deliberate. “Unfortunately. I love the silk PJs, by the way.”
“Gee, thanks,” she drawled, though her mind spun with possibilities. “You work with two others, I take it? They took my clothing in opposite directions.”
“So, you heard that, did you?” He dragged another lawn chair closer. The metal frame scraped against the floor, the faded fabric sagging slightly as he settled into the seat. His gun remained steady, aimed directly at her.
She kept her tone cool despite the panic starting to flood her veins. “How much were you paid to kidnap me?”
“A million,” he replied, his aim never wavering.
Emily scoffed. “I’m only worth a million dollars?” How insulting.
He laughed, low and rough. “I have to admit, you’re a pretty one. And one hell of a fighter. You nearly took out one of my guys.”