Josh woke up in a place that was very dark. His breathing seemed unnaturally loud in his ears, the way it would if he was in a very small place with smooth walls and little else to disturb the sound.

What...

He remembered how he’d come to be in this situation, although the area between being knocked out and waking up here were as equally dark as the room. Both sides of his head throbbed, the right more than the left, and the ache passing back and forth between them seemed to be rattling his brain. Thoughts were difficult and holding on to them as they came was even more impossible.

My name is Josh, he thought. That came easily enough, so he recited his address and telephone number and anything else that was within easy reach. By slow degrees, he started to feel a little more aware, a little more capable.

His surroundings were still quite dark and that pounding headache made him reluctant to start twisting his neck around, much less open his eyes at all. He focused on himself instead.

A curved wall against his back propped him up, but the curve was at an awkward angle that made his spine throb. The wall was rather cool and smooth, which was a nice change from the growing humidity outside as spring sauntered towards summer. His legs could move but not very well, having been bound together with some sort of thick cord. Not rope. It wasn’t heavy enough for that, he didn’t think. His hands were similarly bound in front of him. From what he could tell without moving, his wrists had been lashed together, and then a longer length of cord had been wound around his bound wrists and his stomach, meaning he couldn’t lift his arms. Really, his overall position wasn’t very comfortable, but it could have been worse. He could be hog-tied.

He could be dead.

A surge of terror went through him as he suddenly remembered he no longer just had himself to think about. Any concerns about pain disappeared beneath the fear, and he plunged inside his own thoughts like a diver, cutting cleanly through dark waters to get right to the core of things. The treasure. His treasure. For a moment, he couldn’t find it and the fear deepened into panic, choking off his breathing. He was suffocating in the dark.

Then, there it was, hardly visible but still present, still safe. The soul of his developing baby, a ray of light which illuminated some of the dark for him.

Relief broke through some of the panic, making him aware he had opened his eyes and that they were adjusting to his surroundings. His chest heaved with ragged breaths that shook him and made him slip a little down the wall. His blood pulsed loud in his ears and he could feel the rapid beating of his heart in his wrists and throat, but the relief was so beautiful—almost orgasmic—that it didn’t really matter.

The sound of his breathing echoed so loudly and mockingly in the small dark room that he worked to calm himself all the more fervently, reciting the same things he knew as before until he reached a level where he could actually think again. Adrenaline was still in his system, dulling the cacophony of pain between his ears.

I should take advantage of that, he thought, and looked around.

He was in a bathroom.

More specifically, he was sitting in the tub in a bathroom. It looked like a fairly ordinary bathroom, despite the fact it was so small a man could take a shower while also sitting on the toilet. The place smelled exactly as a person would expect it to, filled with bodily odors with the occasional whiff of mint toothpaste and spice. Most of the surfaces he could see were relatively clean, such as the mirror and counter, but they hadn’t been specifically scrubbed down for the purpose of harboring a kidnapped man.

That told him the wolves who attacked him weren’t criminal masterminds. They were ordinary men, this was their ordinary bathroom, and he was sitting in the place where they washed their junk.

He shuddered at the thought, not that he could move around very much because of his binds.

A tiny sliver of light shone through the crack at the bottom of the door, providing the little bit he needed for his eyes to adjust. Straining his ears, he couldn’t hear anything but the ambient sounds of a regular house: the faint whirring of electricity in the internal wires, the hum of a fridge somewhere, random creaking and soft little groans as the building settled on its foundation.

He didn’t know who these people were or why they had kidnapped him, but they had another thing coming if they thought they were going to get away with this. Since he didn’t know how long he’d been knocked out for, it was very likely Blake had noticed his disappearance and was hot on his trail.

Or was it?

They had argued, hadn’t they? And over a very serious issue. What if Blake couldn’t find him and just assumed he’d left on his own? There had to be some sign of trouble where he’d been attacked, but maybe his mate hadn’t even bothered to come after him like he’d been asked to. Maybe he’d left the picnic the moment Josh hit the treeline.

Misery threatened to overtake him, but he held it back, knowing there was only ruin down that path. There might be people coming to save him but then again, there might not be. He couldn’t just sit here and wait to be rescued. He had to act, had to save himself.

And the first order of business was to take these stupid cords off. He could already feel his hands and legs fall asleep, and if that happened, he could basically say goodbye to any hopes of escape. He needed to be in control of his body.

I wonder if...

He started to shapeshift, holding the urge to become a wolf back with tight reins so he didn’t get ahead of himself. The bones in his body started to shift places and his muscles became more pronounced, covered with a layer of fur that sprouted out in a wave over his skin...but before he was able to get very far with the transformation, he felt the resistance. Cords cut into his skin, compressed him, tightening rather than loosening as his shifting body tried to press outwards. If he kept going, he’d only succeed in breaking his own bones. Or worse.

He thought of that cord around his stomach pressing in just a bit too hard and...

With a gasp, he returned to being fully human once more. Now what? Pressure wouldn’t do it.

Experimentally, he wiggled his legs. The sound of his shoes hitting the porcelain surface of the tub was surprisingly loud, making him freeze in place. He listened, dreading the moment when he would hear approaching footsteps and voices. The attackers would see he was awake and finish what they started, and he would be powerless to stop it.

Shoes have to go.

Very carefully, he slid his legs together to see how much in the way of range of motion he had. Quite a lot, surprisingly. He couldn’t bend much because of the cords around his stomach, but the ones holding his legs didn’t do much to stop an up-and-down movement. Pressing his feet together, he managed to slide off one shoe. It hit the tub with a soft thump. He paused, but no one burst in to stop him. In no time at all, he had the next one off.

I’m going to regret losing those. I wonder if their replacement policy covers this.

Josh began the long, careful process of seeing exactly how much give he had. Quite a bit around his legs, very little around his stomach. He could wriggle some of his fingers but not others.

As his eyes adjusted even further, he realized that he was wrapped up with extension cords. They were the heavy-duty orange kind, perfect for outdoor work. He had a few in his own garage, though they just sat there and gathered dust. These looked to be in much the same condition as his, grimy but for where fingers had gripped the length to wind it around his unconscious body.

Josh bared his fangs and let out a soft growl of annoyance, then started working his legs up and down again. He hoped the cords might loosen up, that he could gradually slide them down his legs until he could just slither right out. The rest of him didn’t seem to be as easy of a problem to fix but he needed to be able to stand up. He needed to be able to run. The bathroom door wouldn’t be locked. He might even be able to turn the knob if he tried hard enough.

Or, there might be something sharp in the medicine cabinet he could knock out with his face onto the counter. A disposable razor would be adequate, he supposed. If he held it in his hand, he might be able to rub it against the cord. That might only damage the outer covering, but any weakness he could cause would give him an advantage. If he could carve off enough of the casing, might the whole of it not become looser? The knots tied into it only seemed to tighten when he pressed against them, so slipping out of it somehow seemed to be his best bet.

His thighs quickly started to burn from the effort, but he kept at it, working his legs up and down, shifting them, testing the cord, trying to push it down. He didn’t know if it was actually doing anything, but he had no other options, and at least this was keeping his legs from falling asleep.

There!

Had there been a give? A sliding sensation as the cord shifted a fraction of a centimeter? His breath quickened. He worked harder, writhing like a fish out of water.

“...with him?”

Josh froze and slumped back against the wall of the tub, trying to look still very much out of it. There was no hiding the fact that he’d removed his shoes but maybe they wouldn’t notice? But that was unlikely, unless they were just terrible at being kidnappers.

Someone else spoke outside the bathroom door, only a few feet away. His voice was very deep and rough, very much masculine and dominant...yet, also old. Josh’s hopes rose a notch.

“We’ll think of something. I wonder if he’s awake yet?”

“Doesn’t matter. He ain’t made a peep, so he’s good either way.” The first speaker had a southern accent. Josh recalled the last person he encountered with an accent like that and desperately wished he could go back in time to that moment to do everything all over again.

“Can you believe it? I still can’t.” The wolf with the southern accent lowered his voice, syllables dragging until they almost formed a mournful howl.

“I know.” Soft rustling. “I can’t believe it either. But we’ll get back at him. I promise. If it’s the last thing we do.”

“It probably will be the last thing we do.”

“So be it.”

So be it, indeed, Josh thought. He waited until the footsteps receded back down the hall. He assumed there was a hallway outside this door, anyway. This damn sure wasn’t a master bath attached to a bedroom.

He didn’t resume his escape attempt immediately, instead pondering over what had been said. The two wolves wanted to get back at someone for doing something. Something they “couldn’t believe” had happened. That had implications of a tragedy, but Josh couldn’t think of anything he’d done that would invoke such a strong reaction in a person.

But Blake had done something, hadn’t he? Accidental or not, it happened.

His eyes, which had been half-lidded with concentration, flew open wide now as the realization struck him like a runaway train. He was being used as bait to lure Blake in.

Now he hoped his mate wasn’t coming after him. He hoped it with every bit of his heart, because if he came and those two got to him...

He didn’t dare think about the outcome.

Gritting his teeth, he went back to his wiggling. He could save himself. He had to.