Mir sank into the huge man’s arms, her shoulders shuddering with each violent sob that left her body. For a minute she lost her ability to speak. She couldn’t yet answer his questions, as much as she wanted to.

All she could do was picture Bry downstairs, the scars on her face a reminder of all the reasons they both needed to get away from this place—but also the reasons that they could never escape.

She knew what would happen to the rest of her family if she and Bry ran. The sorts of fail-safes that Barton had in place, in case things went sideways in the club. He would kill everyone she’d ever loved. But he’d probably have them tortured first. He’d told them more than once how his men would hurt their parents, how their family in Nottingham would suffer if either of them took off. And he’d meant it.

Nothing was worth that—not even freedom.

When she’d slowed her breathing and pulled away from Phair, she looked up into his eyes. He was such an enigma, this massive man. He could seem so powerful, almost cruel, even. But there was a gentleness to him that she felt now, in his hands, his face. Those eyes of his were so kind, so loving. She felt like nothing could go wrong so long as he kept looking at her like this.

Cad made his way over and, along with Phair, helped her to get up. She slipped over to sit on the edge of the bed.

She could tell that Cad wanted to reach out, too, to touch her. He was probably holding back out of respect, or else out of fear that Phair would take his head off. It was an admirable sentiment, but frustrating. She needed someone to hold her now, to tell her it was going to be okay. She needed to feel close to someone who was capable of kindness.

“Barton has men all over England,” she said, wiping the moisture off her cheeks. “That’s how he works. Snatchers, we call them. They’re everywhere. Arseholes at his beck and call, ready to grab victims left and right. He pays them like bounty hunters. They’re his loyal servants. They’re armed to the teeth, and awful. They’re vipers. Demons.”

“Do you know where he keeps the information on them? Where they meet?” asked Cad.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure they gather anywhere, other than here.” She shifted in her seat. “Look, he gets the men closest to him—like Ivan—to go out and recruit shady characters. People who will do anything for money.”

“That’s how he met Collins, I suppose,” said Phair.

Mir turned to shoot him an inquisitive look. “Collins? Who’s that?”

“He’s a man who was running an alleged anti-shifter task force here in London. His men were taking shifters prisoner, holding them without rights, without so much as allowing them to make a phone call to a loved one or a lawyer.”

“Holy shite,” said Mir. “I didn’t know about any of that.”

It was all over the news,” said Cad. “Are you telling us you didn’t see it?”

Again, she shook her head, red strands flitting around her face. “Do you really think I have a lot of access to outside news sources?” she asked. “Barton won’t let me have a phone. No social media. I can only call my family on rare occasions to keep them from getting suspicious, and even then my calls are monitored. They think I work at a restaurant. Which I suppose I do, in a manner of speaking. An all-you-can-eat sodding buffet where I’m part of the meal.” She let out a bitter laugh.

“You don’t need to suffer anymore, you know,” said Cad, his voice taking on that hint of protective gentleness that she’d learned to crave from the two men. “Mir, we can get you out of here tonight if you want. Between Phair and me, you have nothing to fear.”

A look of torment swept over her face. “Don’t you see? You can’t help me!” she half-yelled. “There’s nothing you can do for me. Please, don’t try. Don’t even talk about it. There are more people than just me at risk in all this. I’m just one of many. I’m one of the lucky ones.”

“One of many? Who are you talking about, exactly?” asked Phair. “Look, if you tell us, we can help.”

She shot him a look, biting her lower lip, trying and failing to convince herself that she should keep her mouth shut. If she talked, Bry might hate her for it. But what choice did she have? She’d already given too much away.

Another sob worked its way up her throat, but she swallowed it and managed the words somehow. “My…my sister is downstairs. She works down there.”

“The same…sort of work as you do?” asked Phair. Mir could see that he was doing everything in his power to keep himself from putting a name on it.

“No,” she said. “She did…this…what I do for a while, but not anymore. Not since a few months ago, when she tried to escape.”

“What happened to her?” Cad’s voice sounded tight. Mir knew that he’d already half-guessed what had occurred. He already knew what sort of man Barton was, what he was capable of.

“Bry—that’s my sister. Bryanne is her full name. Something possessed her one day, like she snapped. She’d had enough of this—this so-called life that he’s inflicted on us. She got out the back way when no one was watching. One of Barton’s goons figured out that she’d left and ran after her, grabbed her and dragged her back here, literally kicking and screaming. He took her down to the kitchen, and…”

There, words failed her. Her voice gave out, crumbling to pieces in her chest. She found herself shaking violently, the sobs returning.

She could feel the men move instinctively closer as if to comfort her. But neither touched her just now, much as she wished they would.

“What happened?” Cad’s voice was coated in soft velvet.

“He threw boiling oil at her. Burned half her face, part of her chest. Scarred her for life.”

“Jesus,” growled Phair, his tone feral. Mir turned his way only to see his eyes glowing gold, the veins popping in his neck. She could feel the heat from the beast that lived inside him, feel his rage on the air. She could see that the creature inside him wanted to be unleashed, wanted revenge for the young woman he’d never met.

Why couldn’t all men be this protective? Why did some of them have to be total tyrants like the horrid monster who kept her between these walls?

“Barton knows where the rest of my family is,” she said. “He knows where they live, in Nottingham. He’ll kill them if Bry and I try to get away again. It’s how he keeps us here. It’s how he keeps all the girls. It’s like he’s hiding us in plain sight. Anyone with enough money and power can walk through the front door and see us smiling and healthy, so they can’t even claim we’ve been taken involuntarily. That’s his power over us. He really does own us.”

“Does your family know what…happened…to your sister? I mean, that she was injured?”

She shook her head. “No. They don’t. They’d lose their minds if they knew she’d been hurt. I don’t know what will happen next time they want us home, honestly. So far we’ve managed to offer excuse after excuse, but we can only manage that for so long. Someday they’ll start asking questions, and I’m terrified that Barton will go after them.”

Phair and Cad exchanged a look. “Look,” Cad said, “the thing is, the reason we came here in the first place last night was to find out if Barton has lists of the shifters he’s after, or a database of the men who work for him. But it sounds like he must have other files, too. Addresses for your family, and all the relatives of the women in this place. He must have them somewhere. We need them.”

“I’m not sure how you’d get them. It might not be too difficult to get into Barton’s office, but then you’d have to hack your way into his system. He must keep it password protected.”

“I can work my way in, if I get a few minutes with his computer,” said Cad. “Listen, is there somewhere that he goes on a regular basis? An event, something that might distract him for a few hours here and there?”

“Monday is poker night,” Mir said. “Bry and I call it Happy Night, because Barton’s always too drunk by the end of it to…” she stopped herself before saying what was on her mind. Somehow, the thought of the two shifters knowing about the time she spent alone with him was too ghastly. “He’s too drunk to hassle us.”

“Monday,” said Phair. “Well, that gives us a couple of days to prepare.” Again, he and Cad exchanged a quick, conspiratorial look. “We’ll have to do some planning.” He turned back to Mir. “Meanwhile, you need to learn to trust us. Your family is in danger, and we’ll have to get them to safety at some point soon. They may find out what’s happened to you if all this unravels. Are you prepared for that?”

A surge of dread welled up in her stomach. It was almost too much to bear. The shame of it, of having them know what had happened to her and Bry. How could anyone ever love her if they knew what she’d done? What she’d been through?

Her parents would see her as broken. Destroyed.

Useless.

She pushed herself back on the bed, pressing herself into the pillows, and wrapped her arms around her knees. “You can’t tell them,” she moaned. “Please…don’t do that to me. To Bry. We’ll say she had an accident in the restaurant where she works. Anything but the truth.”

“Miranda,” Cad said softly before moving towards her and laying a hand on her arm. “You need to understand that you’re a victim in all this. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You haven’t done anything wrong here. Do you understand that?”

“I should have fought harder,” she said, shaking her head as her eyes fogged over, the tears making another appearance. “I should have resisted. I should have fought with everything in me.”

Cad was kneeling on the bed in front of her now, holding both her arms, gently, kindly. “No, you did the right thing. You sacrificed yourself to protect your family. You’re a good person. A wonderful person. What you’ve done is noble, and you should be proud of yourself.”

She pulled her face to his and stared into his eyes through the tears that hadn’t yet fallen. His irises had gone strangely light, so intense that they almost seemed to flicker with blue flame.

There it was, that amazing Wolf who lived inside him. The honest, caring, kind creature who wanted nothing more than to help her.

She’d wanted to protest, to scream at him, to tell him that she could never be proud—that no woman would be proud of what she’d done. But his déor stared at her from his human face with so much compassion that she lost her voice and broke down into what felt like an endless stream of sobs.

Cad wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, pressing his cheek to hers, giving her the intimacy, the compassion that she’d craved so much.

She couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Bry had hugged her. It felt so bloody good that she never wanted him to let go.

“Tell me how I can help you,” she murmured. “How I can help myself and my sister. What can I do to end all of this?’

She felt Cad squeeze just a little harder, heard Phair’s voice rumbling the words from somewhere behind the other shifter. “You can be our means of entry to this place,” he said. “Until Monday, we will be paying you a visit each night. Barton is not to lay his hands on you. If he touches you, we’ll kill him. Do you hear me?”

Mir looked over Cad’s shoulder at him. Phair’s eyes were still that otherworldly, beautiful shade of gold. A powerful aura seemed to light the very air around him, and for a moment she wondered what he must look like in the full splendour of his Béorn.

His eyes were narrowed, angry, but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. It was the man who’d ruined her life—he was the one that Phair hated.

For the first time, Mir began to see that these two men actually cared about her. They weren’t seeking her safety only because they were fulfilling some duty. They wanted it because they wanted her.

For the first time in a long time, she felt truly valued.

“I understand,” she said. “I understand everything.”

* * *

They sat together in silence for a while, each of the three companions seeming to read the others’ need for closeness.

After several minutes, Mir moved to the foot of the bed and turned to look at the men.

“May I ask you something that might be horribly rude?” she said.

“Of course,” replied Cad, a bit of a dirty smile on his lips. “I enjoy rude.”

“I mean it. I don’t know if it’s overstepping.”

“What is it?” asked Phair. It was amazing how gentle his voice could sound sometimes, when he was so daunting at others.

“I want to see you,” she said.

“Naked?” asked Cad, but Phair shot him a look that said shut up, ya plonker. “Ah. You mean our better halves. Our animals.”

Mir nodded. “I’ve never seen one up close. Is it weird that I’m asking?”

Phair shook his head. “Not at all,” he said, rising from the bed. “It’s a rather good thing that we’re in a big room, though. My déor isn’t tiny.”

“I can imagine he’s not,” Mir laughed.

“Is it all right if I go first?” asked Phair, looking to Cad. Something about the exchange was oddly respectful, almost reverent.

“Absolutely, mate,” said Cad. “I’ll stay right here, as far away from you as possible.”

“That’s right,” Phair laughed. “I’d forgotten that you’ve never seen the beast.”

“No,” Cad replied, shaking his head. “Never particularly wanted to, truth be told. I’ve had nightmares about less.”

“The…beast?” said Mir. “That’s what you call him? Oh, balls, what have I just gotten myself into?”

“Nothing, really,” Phair replied, “but you might just want to stay close to our mutual friend over there.”

“Right, then,” said Mir, sidling up next to Cad. It felt good to have an excuse to press against him. His arm moved around her, fingers on her waist, and he pulled her close. The memory of those fingers pleasuring her last night came to her and she trembled a little, making him squeeze harder.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

Phair, who stood in the middle of the room, backed up a little. He pulled his eyes to Mir’s and she watched as his went the brightest shade of gold-white, as though the sun were shining out from somewhere inside him. Then, a strange sound like the snapping of dry tree branches met her ear, and the man disappeared.

Standing before her, his sides heaving, was a bear so massive that he had to bend his head so that it didn’t go through the room’s high ceiling.

“You’re…you’re bigger than an elephant,” Mir said, slipping off the bed and stepping towards him, a sudden desire to see him up close winning out over any apprehension.

The Béorn’s mouth was open just enough so that she could see that his fangs were as long as her forearms. She turned and looked at Cad for a moment, asking tacitly if it was safe to get closer.

“It’s all right,” he said. “He would never hurt you.”

She knew it already, of course. Even when Phair had threatened to summon Barton, she’d somehow known he wouldn’t really do it. There was too much goodness in him. Too much protective instinct.

She slipped towards his déor and raised a hand to stroke the brown-grey fur on the side of his face. He was surprisingly soft for such a fearsome beast.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, looking into his right eye. His head was so large that it was all but impossible to look into both at once.

He pressed his face towards her, which sent her tumbling back a few feet. The Béorn froze, a look of concern on his features. “It’s okay,” Mir said. “I’m fine. You’re just strong is all.” She laughed as she darted up to him and wrapped her arms as far around his neck as she could muster, pressing her face into his fur.

He really was like something out of a story from another life, another world. One where she could climb onto his back and escape forever. He was comfort and warmth and protection, all at once.

“I could hug you for days,” she murmured. The Béorn let out a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a purr.

“Well, I think it’s my turn,” said Cad, leaping off the bed. “You can’t get all the hugs, you great furry fuck.”

Phair shifted before Mir had pulled away, and she found herself with her arms still around him. On impulse she looked up at his face, and when she saw him smiling down at her, she pulled herself up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.

A flame of raw eroticism drove its way through her when he kissed her back, his lips gentle but hungry. When his tongue sought hers and found it, the sensation of pure intimacy was enough to make her head spin.

This was the kiss that she’d craved for so long. The kiss that she’d never thought would come again in her lifetime. Her core ached with desire as she felt him harden against her belly. All of a sudden she wanted nothing more than to undo his trousers, to wrap her thighs around him, to feel him sink deep inside her.

“Ahem,” said Cad, who was standing behind her.

Oh, damn. What was she doing? She wasn’t supposed to kiss Phair. That was absolutely against the rules. Of course, everything she’d done tonight was against the damned rules.

“Sorry,” she said, pulling away. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell Barton…”

“Of course I won’t,” said Phair, whose eyes still glowed gold. “Cad was right. I’ll never hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me,” said Cad, his tone teasing.

Mir spun around, worried that maybe he was jealous. “I didn’t mean to…” she said.

But he pulled her close, looked at Phair, and said, “Am I allowed?”

“It’s the lady’s decision,” Phair said. “She’s not my property.”

Mir, laughing, nodded. Okay, apparently there was no jealousy after all. “God, yes,” she said. A second later, Cad’s lips were on hers, his touch scalding and delicious. His hands slipped to her back and downwards, drawing her sensually towards him.

Oh, this was good.

For so long, she’d associated thoughts of sex with unpleasant things. But in the blink of an eye, these men had changed that. Somehow, they’d made her want again. They’d made her need. In the space of a day, they’d somehow brought her from the gates of hell back to the land of the living.

She pulled away after the long, sweet kiss, and smiled up at Cad.

“Your turn,” she said.

“My turn? I just had my turn. And it was pretty incredible, if I may say so.”

“No, I mean I want to see your Dire Wolf.”

“Ah. That. Right.” He nodded towards the bed, and Phair took Mir by the hand and led her over. When they were safely isolated, Cad transformed into the huge dark Wolf, drawing another gasp from Mir.

His eyes were still bright blue, but his fur was an elegant mix of black, brown and grey. When Mir moved close and touched him, she found his coat coarser than Phair’s had been. Still soft, though. Still beautiful.

She pulled back to see that the creature was panting.

“Does this mean you’re happy?” Mir asked. The Wolf nodded. But when he went to wag his tail, he knocked a candlestick off a distant table, which went crashing to the ground with a loud clatter.

“Okay, stop that. I’ll take your word for it,” Mir laughed. She pressed her face into the Wolf’s side, her fingers braiding in his fur.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, turning to look at Phair. “Thank you both so much for tonight. You may not fully understand it, but I think you’ve already liberated me.”