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Cole kept doing deep breathing exercises to maintain his imitation of a twisted statue, talking to himself so he didn’t so much as sneeze.

Thursday was as good a day to die as any, but he preferred a different day—one much later than today.

The road had been smooth for the last forty or fifty minutes. If that continued, he could hold out for hours.

The truck slowed and made a right.

It felt as if they were on an interstate, which would mean he was being transported to SNR-4, a maximum-security shifter prison. They called it a rehab center as if someone was going to teach shifters how to not be predators.

No fences or concertina wire.

All the cells were below ground with concrete walls two feet thick and  inch-thick titanium inner walls. Not even a Gallize shifter could get through that structure. His people believed a Cadell had been involved in designing those pits.

That level of security wasn’t necessary for standard shifters.

A few minutes later, the truck slowed again and turned to the left onto a bumpy road.

“Whoa.” Cole tightened the muscles in his body to keep his balance steady so that he didn’t move his arms or legs. “What the fuck?”

The jackal shifters up front could hear him, just like he heard them chuckle. He had to work harder to maintain his balance or he would lose a limb.

Where were they taking him?

The road into the prison should be a two-lane highway through flat terrain. They couldn’t be anywhere close to it yet. He knew because he’d scouted the prison when it was under construction in hopes of catching a Cadell on site.

Another bump had him sucking in his abs and arching to hold his arms in place. He might have managed to reach the prison in one piece if the driver had stayed on the interstate, but he wouldn’t survive an unpaved road.

Was the point to force him to succumb to this chain system and rip his body apart?

That way, Brantley could point at what was left of his body and say, “This is the reason we need a barbarian transportation plan to deal with mindless beasts.”

Cole wobbled and rolled his hips, adjusting to the rough road. He wouldn’t give in, no matter what they did. If he thought the jackals would stop to check on him, he’d twist a wrist until the manacle cut his skin and call for help.

But these two would howl with laughter if he asked for anything.

If he managed to avoid literally being drawn and quartered by the tension system, the jackal shifters would have to go to Plan B. Take him out of the cargo space and use his head for target practice.

That would be a mistake he’d capitalize on if they gave him an opening.

His wolf hadn’t pushed to get out since they left, but now Gray Wolf had gotten agitated again.

Not crazy agitated this time. Stressed.

His wolf probably sensed that they were facing death, but Cole was saying nothing to clue him in. Better to have Gray Wolf in curious mode than crazy mode, which Cole couldn’t handle in this position.

The truck hit a dip that bounced the entire frame.

Cole lost his balance.

Four chains cinched tighter.

His muscles stretched. Tendons strained. Shit, he wasn’t going to make it. One more bump and an arm might tear at the shoulder.

Now Gray Wolf knew they were in trouble.

He snarled to be released.

Cole had learned early on that ordering his wolf to do anything was a mistake and last night was a reminder. Gray Wolf had been working with him during some of the captivity so Cole pleaded, Please don’t fight me or we’ll die faster.

His wolf howled at him.

Cole understood. He’d managed to let them both down. On top of that, he was pretty sure he’d left Tess exposed to a Cadell with no idea what kind of being she had as a partner.

How much more miserable could this day get?

Two thumps landed on the roof of the cargo area.

Shit. Who would that be? His mind wanted to convince him it was his team, but they had no way to track him.

Not unless they’d followed him to the SCIS facility. If that had been the case, the Guardian would have come up with a way to extract Cole before now.

The sound of glass crashing came next. Someone screamed. Might be a jackal ... might be whoever had attacked them.

Then the van rocked from one side to another, giving Cole’s abs a lethal workout to maintain his balance.

Damn. This could be an attack by the Black River pack who wanted Cole. This supported the suspicion of a leak in SCIS.

Someone might have alerted the local Black River wolf pack that Cole was being transported. The note stuck to Sonic had been specifically for Cole. He still couldn’t figure out how they knew he’d been the one leading teams to bust their balls.

They probably tortured Sonic to get what he knew, but Sonic wouldn’t have had that information. The next possibility was a mole inside Gallize, which was ... beyond something Cole would even consider.

He’d like to feel encouraged by an attack on the jackals, because he could take on three or four Black River pack shifters in a straight up battle.

But tied up like a hog for roasting, he had no chance.

Gray Wolf shoved and pushed.

Cole told him, If I have no other hope, I’ll try to shift and let you loose, but we’ll lose body parts.

That didn’t calm his wolf, but it made Cole feel better to give that promise.

The truck slowed and bumped to a stop as if the driver just took his foot off the brake.

Releasing a breath he’d held too long, Cole became very still. His shoulder and hip joints were strained beyond belief. His abs were shot.

Every muscle trembled from doing its best to keep his body from being yanked apart.

He heard the sound of a helicopter’s whomp, whomp, whomp approaching and landing close enough to hear the rotors slow down.

That would be his next ride, but to where?

That’s when he realized his wolf had quieted. Really? Now, when it was time to rise up and kick ass?

Had he ever been in a more vulnerable position while conscious? None that he could recall.

A shirring sound started at the rear. He saw sparks coming through from a blowtorch being used. That wouldn’t be the jackal shifters, but did that mean his questionable rescuers hadn’t found the key to unlock the doors?

Could this be his team?

No. His team would have called out and let him know they were breaking into the cargo area.

Just another reason to prepare himself for the Black River pack. Had they wanted to kill him in the bombing? If so, this would be quick, but if that wasn’t today’s mission, he could be facing worst than the pit.

The torch sound ceased. Water splashed on the metal, then the doors opened slowly.

Cole squinted against the sun backlighting them and blinding him.