Chapter 3: Captured
Megan's POV
Pain explodes through my skull as consciousness slowly returns. I try to blink my eyes, but my head is hurting so badly. I can literally hear my heartbeat echoing through my skull like a war drum. I feel like I've been hit by a Mac truck!
Sitting up slowly, I start rubbing the back of my head and feel something sticky in my hair. Blood. Fresh blood. What happened to me?
The last thing I remember—walking through the woods, hearing Angel's voice, then that horrible smell before everything went black. Someone knocked me out and brought me here.
When my vision finally clears, reality hits me hard. I'm in a cage with old, rusted iron bars. The floor is cold, damp concrete, and there's a stained mattress that reeks of mildew. The walls are concrete blocks, sweating moisture in the darkness. I'm underground.
"I brought you here, little goddess. Why was a sweet little thing like you out all alone in the scary woods?"
I jump and spin around to see a tall, skinny man with a nasty scar cutting through his right eye. He's leaning against the wall, his eyes roaming over my body in a way that makes my skin crawl.
"Why would you bring me to a place like this? What have I done wrong?" I yell, my voice echoing off the walls.
He starts laughing—a chilling sound that makes my spine straighten with fury. This creep is pissing me off, and anger feels safer than fear.
"I know exactly who you are! We've been looking for you for a long time," he says, stepping closer to my cage like a predator with trapped prey.
My breath hitches. Please don't let this be what I think it is.
"Who are 'we'?" I whisper.
"Oh sweetheart, I think you know exactly who 'we' are. Does the name Samuel mean anything to you?" He smirks, savoring my reaction.
Samuel. The name hits like a physical blow. The monster from my nightmares, the shadow that's haunted my life. The bastard who killed my father and destroyed my pack, forcing my mother and me to run for years.
"I see you know exactly who I'm talking about," he laughs. "You know, maybe Samuel isn't paying me enough. Maybe I want you for myself. I could save you from whatever 'future' he has planned."
"Who are you?" I demand, fighting the tremor in my voice.
He looks shocked. "Really! That's your first question? I just offered to take you instead of giving you to Samuel. Are you insane?"
"If I'm trapped here and you expect answers, I'd like to know who I'm talking to," I snap back. "Basic courtesy, even in kidnapping situations."
"Fair enough. My name is Max. I was hired by Samuel to find you and bring you to him. We're about ten miles away, and he's waiting for my call."
Ten miles. Too close, but maybe far enough to escape.
"Here's what I don't understand though—if you're really his mate like he claims, why would you run? Mates are supposed to be together for life."
The word 'mate' hits me like a slap. Samuel thinks I'm his mate? The idea makes me want to vomit. But something doesn't feel right. Wouldn't I feel some pull if he truly was my mate instead of this bone-deep revulsion?
"Why would Samuel think I'm his MATE?!" I shriek. "I've never even met him, especially not since I came of age!"
Max watches my reaction carefully, and I see doubt creeping into his expression.
"Look, I just want to leave!" The words explode out of me. "I don't want to go to HIM! Why can't people leave me alone? Why is my life constantly in danger? I've stayed away from packs, tried to be invisible. I know I'm wolfless, but why can't you people just LEAVE ME ALONE?!"
My voice breaks into a scream that echoes back mockingly.
Max surprises me with his gentle response. "I don't want to be the bad guy here. I have my own mate back home—she's pregnant with our first pup. She left her pack for me because I've been a rogue my whole life. I know what it's like to be hunted."
He pauses, wrestling with something. "I shouldn't say this, but what if I could get you out of here instead?"
Hope flares before suspicion follows. "Wait! If you have a mate and child coming, why did you offer to take me for yourself?"
"I was testing you, trying to see if you were what Samuel described," Max admits, looking embarrassed.
"And what exactly did he tell you I was like?" I ask through gritted teeth.
"Never mind. I can see he was wrong. Can we start over? Let me get you out safely."
Heavy footsteps sound above us. Max's expression shifts to concern.
"Stay quiet," he whispers urgently. "If anyone else finds out you're awake, this gets complicated."
Too late. Another voice booms from the stairway.
"Well, well, well, look who finally woke up. So you couldn't tell me our little prize was conscious, huh Max? Planning to keep her all to yourself?"
A stockier man appears with mean eyes and dangerous hands. He grips my cage bars and leers at me.
"Who knocked me out?" I demand.
"That would be me, sweet thing," he grins, showing yellowed teeth. "Max was too busy staring at your unconscious body to do his job, so I took initiative."
Rage floods through me. "Well, at least you're honest. That means when I kill you, it'll be quick."
Before he can respond to my threat, Max's fist connects with his jaw. The man drops like a stone.
"Finally," Max mutters, shaking his knuckles. "He's been annoying me all day."
Max approaches my cage slowly, key in hand.
"If I let you out, will you trust me enough to let me get you out of here safely?"
I study his face, remembering Angel's promise about someone coming to help. Looking at Max now, I see genuine concern—the same protective instinct I remember in my father's eyes.
"Yes," I say finally, allowing a small smile. "I can do that, as long as you don't give me a reason not to trust you."