Miley rubbed her hair with the towel then draped it over the rod by the shower. Sitting on her bed dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, she brushed her hair out and thought about the meeting she had just left. As always, Silva and Dean had been wonderful hosts to the room full of people dumped into their laps. The five man bodyguard detail was joined by four FBI agents, a man from the EPA, Miley, Alcide, Ryker and Demma St. John.

Miley grinned. She couldn't wait to tell Chloe about meeting Demma. True to everything she had heard about the starlet, Demma was warm, funny and very down to earth. While the men sat around in the den discussing plans and scenarios, Demma had pitched in with Silva and Miley to throw together an impromptu meal of spaghetti, salads and grilled toast. Afterward, she rolled her sleeves up and helped to wash dishes. Silva had tried to get Demma to sit and relax, but she was having none of it. As they worked, she kept the ladies laughing with stories of her time in Hollywood and the adventures with her best friend and stylist, Monty. The trouble the two of them stayed in threatened to turn Ryker's hair grey, but she could tell how much he indulged her every wish. They were obviously deeply in love.

Alcide had watched Miley all evening, his eyes tracking her movements. It was a little weird at first, but as the evening continued, she noticed Ryker doing the same with Demma as well as Dean for Silva. She realized it was something they did to ensure the women they cared about were safe. She supposed she should feel trapped by his constant scrutiny, but it made her feel safer. She couldn't disappear as long as he knew where she was.

The door of her trailer rattled as someone pounded on it, drawing Miley back to the present. She frowned as she glanced at the clock on her microwave. Who would be knocking at almost midnight? Thinking it could be an emergency, she hurried to the door and unlocked it. Before she could turn the knob, it was yanked out of her hand causing her to take a step back. She gasped as Loran Hoxha's fury-filled face lunged into her home.

"Mr. Hoxha? Is everything all right? Did Artemis make a turn for the worse?"

A string of words erupted from his lips, all in another language, and they didn't sound pleasant. Miley took another step back as he pushed into her space.

"You let that fshatar touch what is mine!" His eyes were wide, and spittle flew from his lips.

"Fshatar? I don't und..."

"Peasant. Laborer. You're to be my princess, mine and you let him touch you. I know what you did. Lavire. You acted like a prostitute, spreading your legs for him on the side of a public road."

Miley didn't have to ask what lavire was. She could guess from the rage radiating off him. "I go and do what I want. You can't control me. I told you I didn't want to date you and I'm damn sure not going to marry you."

His laughter was harsh and held no mirth. "You do not choose to marry me. I choose." Placing his hand on her chest, he pushed harshly forcing her to fall into the bench seat of her dining table. Looking behind him, Loran spoke to someone in a low tone then dropped into the seat opposite to her.

"Wait, how did you know that? Were you following me?"

"Po, of course, I had you followed. You're mine, lule e vogël. You're my little flower, my princess. Mine."

The man with Loran sat a duffle bag on her bed. He opened her closet and began to pull her clothing from the hangers.

"Hey. Stop that!" Miley stood. "Those are my things!"

"Sit down," Loran roared. He grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her back to the bench. "You're moving to the ranch."

"I can't. This is my home, my practice."

Loran slashed his hand through the air. "No more. You will not need to work any longer. We will be married immediately. You will take care of the animals for me and none others."

For the first time since that night with Jacob, Miley felt body-numbing fear twist her stomach into knots. Swallowing hard, she attempted to reason with him. "Loran, please, you don't want someone who doesn't want you. You should marry a woman who loves you."

"Love is not necessary." He shot to his feet as his henchman walked out of the trailer with Miley's things in the bag. Loran looked around the space with a disgusted snarl on his lips. "You will never have to live in this poverty again. You will wear beautiful things and be taken care as the wife of a Hoxha should be."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the steps and to a car idling beside her truck. The henchman opened the door, and Loran pushed her inside. Immediately, she pulled on the door handle, but it was locked. Loran slid into the seat next to her as the door closed. "You cannot escape."

Panic filled her. "Loran, see reason. This is wrong! What will your brother say?"

He turned his dead gaze to her. "Tariq has questions of his own for you. He wants to know who those men are that you saw tonight. Think carefully about your story, lule e vogël. You will be marrying me tomorrow. It would be a shame if you were not your most beautiful for your wedding day. If Tariq does not believe your story..." he let the words fall away. With a motion toward the driver, he settled back.

Miley slid as far as she could get from Loran, wishing there was a way to let Alcide know she was in trouble.

The freckle.

She slid one hand behind her back and felt for the little bump. Presently, her fingers found it, still on the place on her lower back where Alcide had placed it this afternoon. She had forgotten it was there and prayed he was right in thinking it was waterproof. There was a little pilling from the silicone, but the button seemed to have stayed in place. Pressing down on the center as hard as she could, she mentally counted to five before letting up. She hoped the button was still functioning. She hoped Alcide's friend was listening. Most of all, she hoped with everything she had that Alcide would find her before she ended up dead or worse, married to the monster sitting beside her.

Cowboy was lost in a beautiful dream where he was carefully exploring every curve of Miley's supple body. In it, they were sitting on the sun-baked sand of his favorite beach located in a secluded cove north of Palisades. He'd found it while out running one morning and it had become a place he could go to get out of his head after missions. In his dream, he couldn't wait to show it to her.

She was laid out beneath him as the sun splashed vibrant rainbows in the darkening sky. At this moment she was the siren he had once considered her, splayed out in sun-kissed splendor like a feast for him. Bared for his perusal, he couldn't tear his eyes from the perfection of her body writhing seductively as she begged silently for his touch. And touch her he did. He could feel her warm skin beneath his fingers as they glided over her. The taste of salt burst on his tongue as he kissed and licked his way up her form.

"Alcide," she sighed his name. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. His name on her lips was akin to angel song, and it made his body harden for her.

"I'm here, love," Cowboy whispered as he kissed his way up from her navel to between her breasts. "What do you need?" he asked as his lips brushed the edges of her tattoo.

Her eyes opened, and she raised her head to gaze at him. Sliding her hands into his hair, she pulled his head up until his eyes were fastened on hers. "I need you to help me."

Cold swirled in his stomach as he tried to understand what she was asking. "Help you? I don't..."

She opened her mouth to reply but the sound coming out was not human. Immediately, her face wavered then disappeared like waves on the sea.

Cowboy leaped from his bed, throwing the light blanket off with one sweep. On his bedside table, his cell rang again. Wiping his hand over his face, he picked it up and punched the button. "Yeah?"

"We've got a problem."

That cold feeling from his dream clenched his midsection as he recognized Digger's voice. "Miley?"

"Yeah." His friend let out a frustrated breath. "Tex called me. Her panic button just activated eight minutes ago. He's tracking the bursts as they move."

Cowboy cradled the phone to his shoulder as he pulled on his jeans. "Where is she?"

He heard Digger speak to someone then came back. "Three miles north of fourteen heading toward the Double H. My team should be mobilizing as we speak. They should be there to pick you up any moment."

There was a knock on the front door. Cowboy picked up his boots along with a dark t-shirt and hurried into the living room. Rissa was already at the door, peeking out before opening it. Harley, Fin, and Sergi stood on the porch. He gave them a nod. "They're here." He dropped his cell into his hand and tucked it into his pocket.

"Alcide? What's going on?" Rissa's eyes flew from the bodyguards waiting on the porch to her brother and back again.

Cowboy sat on a chair and thrust his feet into his boots. "Miley's in trouble."

Standing, he turned to the gun safe standing by the door. Punching in his code, he opened the safe and pulled out a shotgun which he handed off to Rissa before withdrawing his Sig. Checking the magazine, he racked the slide and pushed it into a holster and fastened it to his hip. Grabbing two extra magazines, he closed the safe and moved toward the door.

Rissa clasped the gun in her arms. "What kind of trouble?"

"The kind that could spill over here. You know how to use that, so keep it close. Lock all the doors and windows and don't let anyone in." He laid a hand on his sister's shoulder. "She's been taken."

Rissa's face became determined as she nodded. She opened the shotgun chamber and checked to see if it was loaded. "I've got this. Nobody is coming in here."

"Good girl." He hesitated. "I hate to leave you alone."

"No, you go and get my friend. I'll be fine."

Fin stepped through the door. "She won't be alone. I'll stay and watch over things here."

Cowboy felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He gave a quick nod then kissed his sister on the cheek. "Fin will watch out for you. Be smart."

She gave him a half-hearted grin. "I'm always smart."

"Yeah, I know."

He turned and walked out the door. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Fin standing behind Rissa, his hand on his gun at his waist. "Don't worry, Cowboy. I've got this," he assured him. "Nobody is going to mess with your family."

"Thanks."

Fin lifted his chin to them as Rissa closed the door. Cowboy waited a moment until he heard the lock catch then hurried off the porch, tossing his shirt on as he walked. The others were already in the SUV, waiting on him. Cowboy yanked the door open and slid in, slamming it behind. As Harley slung rocks out of the driveway, Cowboy gritted his teeth. He'd promised Miley she would be safe and the first time she needed him, he wasn't there.

"Never again," he muttered under his breath. Once he got Miley back, he wasn't leaving her side come hell or high water until he was completely sure she was safe. At that moment, he didn't care how she felt about being saved. His damsel in distress needed her knight in shining armor and Cowboy would be damned if he didn't ride in, proverbial sword drawn and rescue her.

Whether she wanted it or not.