Epilogue
Zach swore and threw his phone into the wall, no satisfaction filling him as the thing shattered with a high crack of glass and hard plastic. Dammit, he was no closer to finding her, and his parents had just lost interest. Oh yeah, let’s ignore the loss of our daughter and have a party instead. Fury filled him as his wolf pulled to the front, demanding to be released. It had taken them almost a week to sort out the Florida pack’s shit. Granted, he had gotten enough information to figure out that Jane was their missing shifter—moot point since he wasn’t there for the huge battle in Bear Paw last night—but at least his credibility as a Tracker and PI wasn’t shot to hell. And while he appreciated his family’s acceptance of Nissa, it still grated on his nerves. They shouldn’t be celebrating his mating. Even if Nissa was the best thing that happened in his life—which she was. He loved her more than anything. But, still, Izzy was out there alone, hurting. Bile rose in his throat at all the possible things that could have been done to his sweet younger sister. He’d find them, kill them. No, he’d make them suffer. Every person or shifter who had anything to do with her disappearance. He growled and tore off his shirt, intending to shift and run again. Hell, now that he was back at the compound—per his asshole father’s request—he couldn’t seem to get enough wolf time. He’d told Nissa they would stay for the week, but he’d lied. As soon as he figured out what his fucking alpha slash father dearest wanted, they were out of there. If Nissa wanted to go back to Bear Paw, he’d take her. But he hoped she wouldn’t mind a road trip first. He had to check out the new information he’d received, and he didn’t want to waste any more time. But his mate came first. If she wanted to wait at Bear Paw while he drove to the West Coast, he’d take her there first. He’d miss her like hell. But he had a duty—to find Izzy, no matter what. And one more fucking day playing “let’s be nice to Mommy and Daddy” was going to kill him.
A soft knock sounded on his door. At least they were back in his own home. After the shit during their party, he didn’t think he’d ever get Nissa out of his parents’ house. But they were here now, and his mate was slumbering peacefully in his bed where she belonged. His big, beautiful bear did not like to be awakened.
He pulled his shirt back on and strode to the door, yanking it open with a growl.
At the sight of his mother’s stricken face, he calmed himself and ushered her in and into a chair. “What happened?”
“Your father needs you.”
“He can take the alpha posturing and bullshit and hand it to someone else. It’s too early for this, Mom.”
“He’s sick.”
One look at her ashen face and the unshed tears told him she was speaking the truth. But how? “Shifters, especially alphas, don’t usually get sick. What haven’t you told me?” He hated the aggression that came out toward the special woman he’d loved his entire life, and tried to hold it back. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re confused, and your father hasn’t told you everything.”
“Can you tell me why you stopped looking for her? Why you’re ignoring her loss and latching onto my mate when you have a perfectly good real daughter out there somewhere, who’s hurting, who needs us?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand. How can he be sick? Why are you trying to keep me here? Why have you given up on her?”
“As for his sickness, you’ll need to address your father directly. He won’t want it coming from anyone else. But, do it soon. Please.”
He nodded and took her hand.
“We’ve never stopped looking for Isabella. We’ve paid for information…” She shuddered. “We’ve done other things I’m not proud of.” She stared at him fully and took a deep breath. “But we’ve never stopped searching, and we’re not trying to make you stop. You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re the alpha’s son, and he won’t be around for much…” She shook her head and changed what she was going to say. “Forever. For the good of the pack, you have to be ready to take over if he…” Tears filled her amber eyes.
He hugged her and let her sob quietly into his shoulder, his mind reeling with the things she’d said and hadn’t said.
“I may have been overcompensating a bit with you and Nissa.” She finally sat back up and gave him a tearful laugh. “It’s just been so hard. I needed your good news more than you know. Your father, too.”
“It’s okay. I appreciate your welcoming her. I was a little nervous you might not want a bear in the family.”
“Bears are fine. I’m just glad it wasn’t a cat.” She wriggled her nose in disgust, and Zach laughed, the weight lifting from his chest.
“Not all cats are bad, Mom.”
She tsked, and he laughed again.
“Okay, I’ll talk to Dad. Figure some stuff out. But, seriously, Nissa and I have to go. I have a few leads I want to get on before the trail gets cold.”
“You bring back my daughter.” She stood up and turned her head, but not before Zach saw the angry tears in her eyes. “We’ll give you all the money you need.”
“I don’t need the money, Mom. But, thanks. Tell Dad I’ll come by this afternoon, and I’m going to want answers. All of them.”
She nodded and walked out the door.
Zach strode to his bedroom and watched his beautiful mate slumbering deeply, a bit of drool on her cheek, and smiled. He’d wake her later. For right now, this was where he needed to be while he processed all the information he had. Climbing into bed carefully, so as not to wake her—though it was near impossible with Nissa—he spooned up to her and closed his eyes. He still had a shit ton of work to do. And today’s meeting with his father would most likely change everything.
~.~
Isabella Werner shivered in the dark room—not from the chill, she was a wolf—but from the sounds of skittering rodents in the wall. The tiny scratches and shuffling had her on alert. She hated those tiny things. Rats. And if it was true—that even the rats had been experimented on—then they might carry some new diseases that could indeed hurt her. She would have curled into her blanket on the mattress in the corner, but they’d taken both from her after her last escape attempt. The beating hadn’t been as bad as last time—the bruises and cuts healed—but the look on the poor guard’s face right before he was shot then left in the room next to her, barely alive, until the infected rats started feeding on him… She shuddered. It had been her fault that poor man had died. He’d been one of the nicer guards. Hadn’t felt her up or beaten her or called her horrible names. He’d even snuck her food after her first punishment for trying to escape. She still remembered hearing his screams and the sickening sound of tiny teeth tearing into flesh. The smattering, skittering, squeaking rats that fed on him even after he finally gave one last groan and died. The sounds of feeding went on for hours. That had been two nights ago, and she still hadn’t recovered from the horrific sounds and smell.
She cuddled herself into the tiniest ball and closed her eyes. It must be nighttime. Though she didn’t have any outside source of light, her biological instincts told her it was night. Plus, the night guards were half the number as during the daytime. She pictured the moon, full and golden, its glorious pull beckoning her to run wild and free. Her older brother, Zach, would have already shouted for her to go, grinning as he gave her a head start. He loved chasing after her, tackling her, fighting with her with his teeth and claws like siblings do. Not hurting each other, but still loving the roughhousing. A tear trickled down her cheek. Dammit. She needed to get her emotions under control. The bastards who would come in for her nightly blood draw would love to see the little bitch crying again, as they joked about her and pushed her into walls and forced her screaming and kicking onto that sterile gurney in the white room. The white room scared her even more than the rats. Someday soon, they would stop taking her blood and would start injecting her with whatever they were working on. The humans were up to something vile, and it scared the crap out of her.
Zach. Her lower lip trembled, but she forced herself to bury the fear and sadness. Only rage would help. Yeah, it got her beaten a lot more than the other prisoners, but it helped her stay in control. It was the only thing she did have control of. She let the rage build. These bastards wanted to do experiments on her and figure out what made shifters tick? Well, she’d make them work for it. Just like the last…she looked at the tick marks on the wall behind her. Eighteen days.
Heavy footsteps sounded down the hall, and a door slammed. Go time.
She couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but he was large. Bigger than any of the others. Great, they’d hired a linebacker to be her next guard. Linebacker dude was so huge, he took up the whole doorway. She wrinkled her nose. God, the stench of cheap cologne on top of extreme body odor had her gagging. “Dude, ever hear of a shower?”
“Come.” Nothing else. Linebacker probably didn’t have much of a vocabulary. Maybe she could outwit the Neanderthal into giving up the key since she wasn’t going to get far with her normal kicking and punching and biting routine.
“I’ll come if you can answer one question.” She backed into a corner. Not that it would do much good if he came in and grabbed her. But, still, it was fun to play with the assholes. Hell, it was the only fun she had all day. And their reactions gave her a semblance of control.
A deep sighing rumble came from his chest before he answered her. “Shoot.”
Grinning, she stepped forward. “What’s the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
It almost sounded like a laugh that was squelched down so quickly and made into a grumbled clearing of his throat. He walked in, and the light from the hallway flickered across his rugged face and firm jaw. He crossed his arms over his large chest. “If you’re not actually fishing for an easy answer like African or European, and are asking about the relative velocity between the specific bird and the air, you have to calculate wind speed and the frequency of its wings beating and the amplitude. But let’s just say twenty-four miles per hour for shits and giggles.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Come on.” His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I answered your question, and I’m not carrying your ass. No matter how beautiful you are.”
Well, there went her control. She took a deep breath and preceded him out the door and into the hallway. His towering presence should have scared her, but it was the safest she had felt in months. Great. Bring on the Stockholm syndrome.
~Bearly Rescued~
Coming soon…