Читать книгу Song Of The Wolf - Hannah Pole - Страница 11

Three weeks. It had been THREE damn weeks since Alison had been taken. Dax was all but going mad. He couldn’t stand how long it had been. They should have found her by now.

To keep himself sane, he had literally spent every second he could out looking for her and tonight, he’d hit the jackpot – one of the Circle’s underground bases.

“Dax, you IDIOT. You could have been killed. We’re five minutes away. Why the hell couldn’t you have waited for us?” Leyth’s gruff voice barked through the mini-coms. The minuscule speaker pinned into his ear meant he could hear everything Leyth and the rest of the team said, and the miniature microphone clipped into his mouth meant they could hear everything he said.

So he kept his mouth shut.

Scanning the room, he couldn’t help the vicious smile that curled his mouth. These bastards hadn’t known what had hit them when he’d forced his way in. All around him were the scattered bodies of the tuhrned. Those traitors weren’t dead yet though. They were more zombie than person. The only way to kill them was to cut the head off. But Dax hadn’t wanted to kill them. He’d wanted to question them.

Alison’s kidnapping had left him more than a little empty; his very soul ached at the loss of her. Perhaps that loss had made him somewhat brutal in his fighting style and frankly they deserved everything they got. He just wanted to question these bastards and get his female back. The female. A member of his pack. That was all there was to it.

“You,” he barked at the tomb closest to him. Leyth had always called the ‘tuhrned’ tombs because they were essentially dead men walking. They should be in a tomb, not ‘alive’ and fighting the High Lord’s war. And this one was no exception to that. His rotting grey skin looked bloated, swollen, only exaggerating his pale thinning hair and his dark-rimmed, sunken eyes. Oh Maker, the smell? Rotten.

“Look at me,” Dax barked at the tomb.

“What do you want?” the zombiefied man spat, wincing in pain as his jaw moved.

“What, no Magi to help you with the pain? To possess your body so you can be free of your putrid flesh?” Dax snorted. “You don’t deserve to be free of pain. You soulless traitor.” OK, so perhaps breaking every bone in the tomb’s body was a little harsh but these ‘men’, if you could call them that, had played one helluva part in Alison’s kidnapping. They killed and kidnapped, raped and pillaged at every turn and what’s more they had literally sold their souls to the devil.

“WHERE IS SHE?” Dax roared, leaning in so he was face-to-face with the tuhrned.

“W-ho…?” he groaned.

“WHERE is the female wolf YOUR High Lord took three weeks ago?” Dax hissed.

“I don’t know,” the tomb whispered.

“WHERE?” Dax positioned himself so that he was pressing his weight on the tomb’s broken body.

“I don’t know!” The tomb squealed, tears dampening his cheeks. Dax took his weight from the zombie’s body. Frankly he was surprised the High Lord hadn’t taken the tomb over by now. He did after all have the power to possess his minions at any point, it was the reason he bound their souls. Apparently it made it easier to use them as vessels to do his bidding.

“But I know he liked the feel of her.” The tuhrned’s cruel laughter filled the silence. Anger swept through Dax, the sheer force of it almost knocking him off his feet.

“WHAT did you say?” he thundered.

“I SAID, he likes the feel of your female’s body, wolf,” the tomb spat, laughing and spluttering.

Dax didn’t give him time to catch his breath, just picked the tomb’s broken body from the ground and slammed it into the closest wall. He could barely see past the anger tainting his vision with red, fury rushing through his veins.

“YOU,” he spat, slamming the bastard’s body back into the ground, “do NOT –” he picked him up by his hair and held him by the throat against his chest “– EVER get to speak about her like that,” Dax roared, tightening his grip on the tomb.

“She is worth more than you could ever dream, traitor.” He growled the words at the zombie, choking him with everything he had. His fingers pressed into the tuhrned’s throat, sinking into his flesh with ease. The putrid fluid causing its skin to bloat parted beneath his nails as he sliced the skin open, vile fluid and blood trickling across his fingertips…

“DAX. Hell no!” Leyth shouted, storming in and ripping the tomb free from Dax’s grip. The male’s night-dark hair and powerful body dominated the small, dingy basement. “Get him home.”

“NO!” Dax protested. “He might know something. I’m damn well questioning him.” He tried to force his voice to sound level, but hatred for that tomb boiled his blood, making his words come out short and vicious.

“HOME,” Leyth barked, pointing towards the door. “Raught. Take him. I’ll deal with this.”

Raught stalked forward, putting himself between the two of them.

“Come on, my friend. Food will do you some good and then you can get back into the field,” he reasoned, but Dax ignored him. Instead he took a slow deliberate step towards the tomb.

“You will talk. Or I will make you,” he growled at the rotting bastard’s sneer.

“Seriously Dax…” Raught moved, wrapping a strong arm around Dax’s.

“What the FUCK?!” Dax roared spinning around, ripping his arm out of Raught’s grip so harshly that the male almost staggered over.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me.” Dax was on his pack elder in a heartbeat, wrapping a fist around the male’s throat and pointing a finger in his face.

“Fuck, Raught,” he spat, the heated red of sheer anger filling his vision, soaring through his veins like fire.

Another heavy set of hands landed on his shoulders, tugging him backwards.

“HELL NO!” Dax spat, launching himself across the room, eyes so blurred he barely saw who he was swinging at.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he roared, burying his fist in the stomach of whoever had grabbed him. Another set of hands grabbed at his arms hauling him backwards.

“Get the hell off!” Dax caught the wrist of whoever was holding him and thrust them away with enough force to send them clattering into the wall behind.

A deafening growl assaulted his eardrums making his already tense body ripple in anticipation of the coming fight. Dax did not like to be touched. Not ever.

Someone moved behind him, something he felt rather than saw, and in less than a second he was crushing the assailant’s windpipe in his fist, the idiot’s body dangling from his death grip. That growl rippled out again and it took a few seconds of doing nothing but breathing for Dax to realise that the deep vicious sound was actually him. Blinking rapidly, his vision cleared, the red haze retreating and sanity returning. This shit with Alison really had him geared up. Everyone knew he didn’t like being touched. They knew that.

As the world came back into view he could see Raught crushed up against the wall, choking against Dax’s own hand. Leyth and Taevyn, his pack brothers, had a careful grip on each of his shoulders and were desperately trying to pull him off their pack elder. And Dax was just stood there growling like a rogue wolf, attacking members of his own pack.

“Whoa there, wolf.” Raught, the pack elder, held his hands up, his silver hair swinging over his shoulder as he struggled against Dax’s grip to shove his face into his line of sight.

“Chill!” he spluttered.

“Fuck,” Dax spat, quickly loosening his grip on the male.

“Dax, I am not fighting you on this.” Raught dropped to the ground but caught himself. Squaring his shoulders and gingerly rubbing his raw red throat, Raught carefully stood outside of Dax’s reach.

“You’re coming with me, like it or not.” His grey eyes locked onto Dax’s, the strength and compassion behind them made him actually want to calm down. Yet Raught’s pity made him feel sick at the same time. Dax handled sympathy about as well as he handled being touched.

He was a grumpy arsehole. Everyone knew that. Hell, he knew that. But since Alison had been kidnapped he was worse than ever. No one was safe around him. He needed to question these tombs, get some answers, find Alison and return to his almost normal life. And he couldn’t do that from pack land.

“I’m staying.” He cast a sideways scowl at the tomb on the ground, who was still laughing.

“Look, mate, you need to go check your systems. If Alison’s chip shows up you do not want to be here and unprepared,” Raught reasoned. Dax could see him treading incredibly carefully around the words he was saying. All of the pack were like that around him. They all treated him like a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any moment.

“Come on, Dax. You know Leyth will question him.”

“NO!” Dax barked.

“Mate. I’m more than capable of questioning a few tombs,” Leyth assured him.

Dax didn’t say anything, just started walking towards the rotting zombie.

“Hell no, mate. I damn well said…”

“Don’t start with me, Leyth,” Dax snapped as Leyth stepped in front of him, puffing his chest out and curling a tight fist. Dax’s whole body tensed, ready to take his friend and pack mate down if necessary.

“Males.” Raught carefully stepped between them. “Leyth, you know Tamriel will kick the shit out of both of you if she finds out you’ve been fighting. And Dax. For Maker’s sake, check Alison’s GPS, eat some damn food and then get back out in the field. You need to update Julian anyway.”

Dax sighed. He knew the wolf was right. He did need to check his computer systems. Alison had a GPS chip in her neck but they had taken her so far underground that it had lost signal. And Julian, his pack Alpha and Alison’s brother, did need an update.

“Fine. Let’s go.” He stalked forward leaving Raught jogging to catch up with him and climbed into his beat-up old Ford to get back to pack land.

Eventually Dax found himself stalking the length of Julian’s office.

Maker only knew he’d spent most of the last three weeks doing exactly that.

“You could have died, Dax,” Julian spat at him; the male’s long blond hair was tied into a thick braid that swung violently over his shoulder as he slammed a heavy fist on his desk, cracking the wooden surface.

“Like I give a crap,” Dax hissed. “We need to be in the field, constantly.” He locked his eyes on to Julian’s. “Alison is still out there.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” his Alpha roared, “She’s my goddamn sister. I’ve been out every damned day looking for her, I can’t sleep at night because I’m so worried –”

“Then why don’t you come hunting with me at night?” Dax cut him off.

“Because,” Julian barked, “I’m not an idiot. We need to sleep and eat, Dax. Otherwise when we do finally find her we will be too weak from the lack of sustenance to fight to get her free.”

“Well, I can’t do it,” Dax growled. “I can’t be here, lounging, living, when I know she’s out there. I just can’t do it, Julian.”

Dax slumped his tired body down in the giant leather chair that sat on the opposite side of Julian’s oversized desk. Resting his forehead briefly in his hands he took a deep breath. They’d had this argument over and over again. Julian was working himself into the ground looking for Alison and Dax knew it. The problem was that he couldn’t physically stop.

He rarely returned to pack grounds unless he was dragged back by one of his pack brothers. He spent every minute of the day and night out searching for that female.

Why? Because she was pack-kin and that was all there was to it.

He just couldn’t stand the idea of the new High Lord with his hands all over her. He hadn’t slept in weeks. He hadn’t eaten in days.

He didn’t care. He needed to get back out there.

He had to find her.

“For Christ’s sake.” Julian heaved a great sigh and waved a hand at him. “Go and have a shower. You stink. Go and eat something. And if you have to go back out, take the Djinn with you. Don’t kill yourself, Dax, you’re no good to Alison dead.”

Dax nodded at his Alpha, stalking out of the huge room Julian called an office. The blood-red walls and gold trim weren’t exactly calming anyway. He quickly made his way through the foyer to the mansion and into the kitchen.

“Hi, Dax. Want me to fix you a sandwich?” Sarah’s happy face appeared in front of him. The female’s bouncy curls framed her face and she looked a little flushed. She’d obviously been stood over the cooker for a while.

“Hi, Sarah. Nah, I’m just gonna grab something from the fridge,” he grunted at her, avoiding eye contact. The long stainless steel worktops suddenly became incredibly interesting. So did the tiled floor. In fact anything that wasn’t that female was better to look at.

She was too goddamn cheery for his liking.

Swiftly grabbing at some leftover pizza from the counter, he stuffed it into his mouth and chewed. It was a mechanical motion; he didn’t even taste the stuff. But Julian was right. If he was too weak to fight, he would be no good whatsoever to Alison. He grabbed a bottle of vodka to wash the pizza down with. The spirit had a healthy sting to it that briefly flared warmth through his stomach. Keeping the bottle with him, he walked out of the kitchen and into the mansion’s car park.

“Hey, Dax.” Tamriel’s husky tone hit his ears as he began to walk towards his beat-up old car.

“Hey, Tam,” he grunted.

“Need some company, my friend?” Leyth, who had obviously finished cleaning up his mess and returned home, stepped forward.

“Nah. Just going for a drive.”

“Sure.” Tamriel stuck her head in his line of vision, her bright green eyes narrowing as they met his. Her red-streaked black hair flowed out behind her in the wind. “Look, if you find anything call me.”

“Will do,” Dax grunted, half turning away from her.

“I mean it.” She bullied her way back in front of him.

“Yup.” He turned back towards the car but not before he caught her rolling her eyes at him, as she turned to leave.

OK so yes, she was a strong female, and yeah they had infiltrated the Council’s headquarters together when the Circle had taken over and tortured Leyth to literally within an inch of his life.

And yes. He respected the hell out of her.

But it irritated the hell out of him that she was no longer bothered by him, she wasn’t scared of his anger and she wasn’t offended by his shortness.

It was annoying.

Even so, he couldn’t hide the smallest of grins as he looked back at the two of them walking off into the woods, hand in hand. They were truly made for each other.

Leyth was one damn lucky wolf.

Dax cracked the door of his beat-up old Ford and slid into the leather seat. The car smelled of age and blood but he didn’t give a crap.

He whipped out his phone and sent a quick text to Jake. Dax knew that he would be with his brother Jones; those two Djinn were practically joined at the hip. He rolled his eyes at the thought of them; they were the most bitchy drama queens on this side of the Kingdom.

And some of the strangest looking creatures in the world.

The Ford’s old engine started on the first try. Dax shoved it into reverse and sped out of pack land and onto the road into Folkestone.

The drive didn’t take long; he wasn’t exactly worried about breaking the speed limit at the moment, some things were just more important.

He raced through the streets of the town and up towards the part of the beach known as the Warren.

As the golf course that stood above it came into view, he slowed down, scanning the area. Absolutely nothing. Fantastic.

He slid the car into park and hefted the door open, climbing out.

The wind blasted him as soon as he stepped into the cold but he barely felt it, the wolf half of his soul was already heating his core, wanting out.

Dax made quick work of stripping off his jeans and jacket, shoving them into the back seat of his car. It was sheltered enough here for passing cars not to see him and hell, it was nearly midnight, no one in their right mind would be out walking at this hour. He grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a quick swig, before splashing some of the liquid over the worst of his wounds.

Today’s fighting had been pretty brutal. He’d found a Circle base and had raided the damn thing before backup got there. Then Leyth had sent him packing. He scowled at the thought.

He hissed as the liquid sloshed over an ugly gash on his side. It probably needed stitches but hell that would take time. And knowing Doc, he would probably order Dax to take time out of the field to heal. Maker only knew that wasn’t going to happen. Nope, vodka-disinfectant and natural healing would have to do for now.

Slamming the car doors shut and locking them, Dax slipped the rucksack that contained his knives, phone and laptop onto his back and jogged into the wooded area, naked as the day he was born. The ground was icy beneath his feet, but the heat at his core was so strong it licked through his flesh, making the frost around him melt quickly.

In these cold months he found himself more thankful than ever for his heritage, for the other half of his soul. The media would call him a ‘werewolf’ but anyone who knew a wolf would know that the nickname was frankly offensive. No, they were wolves, through and through. Dax couldn’t help but snort at the Hollywood version of his kind, though he could see where they got the impression. If you were a true wolf, you were born a wolf, none of this ‘oh I was bitten by a wolf and now I can turn into one’. That was ridiculous! His kind had been gifted the ability to shift into a full-blown, huge, very natural-looking wolf. When a pup went through their change at around the age of twenty-three, they released the power stored at their core. The pup ‘met’ their wolf for the first time and accepted the wolf. As a result they were given the ability to shift at will, to manipulate their body, to restructure the very skin on their back and transform it into that of the wolf.

This half-man half-wolf version the media had decided on was, however, not entirely untrue. The Circle’s Magi were powerful magical beings that had chosen the dark path. Their blood magic was the strongest kind of magic known to any race. They could take over a tomb’s body and force it to do their bidding. A Magi could even use the tomb’s abilities, though because they weren’t born into that race, they had a particularly skewed idea on how to control it. As a result, if the tomb was born a shifter, when they joined the Circle and had their soul bound they lost the ability to shift. The only time they could make the change was if one of the Circle’s Magi willed it. And when they took over the tomb’s body and attempted to shift said tomb into an alternate form, they just couldn’t do it properly, they ended up changing the body into a half-man half-beast abomination, exactly the way the media portrays ‘werewolves’.

Dax grimaced; he couldn’t stand the idea of losing his wolf, not being able to call to him whenever he needed to. He’d rather die. And he had no doubt that every member of his pack would feel the same. Julian, his Alpha and ruler of the pack, had once said ‘A life without your wolf is a life not worth living.’

And he was absolutely right.

Though these thoughts just made his heart break for Alison. Because by binding her soul, the High Lord also bound the soul of her wolf, the other half of her. And now she was without the very thing that made her who she was.

He couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible that must be, how devastating.

He needed to find her.

Adjusting the straps on his rucksack, Dax prepared to shift. As soon as he was certain he was out of sight of inquisitive eyes, he called to his wolf, which leapt to the surface with ease. He’d done this a thousand times, changing from human to wolf was as natural to him as breathing. Nevertheless as the change began, he still felt his stomach do an awkward flip flop; nerves were something you could never get rid of.

Especially now that he was making the change with a rucksack on his shoulders. Generally if you change with any items of clothing on, they get ripped to shreds as your body bends and breaks but Dax had trained himself over and over again. He’d just about got it down.

Dax took a deep breath as the heat at the very center of him thundered its way through his flesh, wrapping around him, shielding him from the worst of the pain. He dropped to his knees, bracing his hands against the cold ground and let his wolf take over. The heat tingled its way to the very tips of his fingers; a shudder ran through him as he felt the change begin to take place.

His body began to bow and stretch, his bones bending and reshaping, and his skin expanded as they did so, giving his muscles space to break down and reform. It was mighty painful. Maker only knew how their race had adapted to survive bones and flesh breaking and reshaping as they did. But hell, healing came naturally fast to them. Finally his face began to cave in on itself, the bone reknitting and forming a muzzle as his spine lengthened, shooting out to form a tail.

After a short while his skin began to itch as fur grew out of it. It felt like hundreds of tiny needles rippling out in waves, from the top of his head to the tip of his tail.

It usually only took seconds for his body to shift into wolf form, but this time it took a little longer. Dax had to concentrate on keeping his body in the same position, careful not to rip the straps of his rucksack in the process.

When the change took place, Dax knew he was supposed to keep his mind clear of anything but his wolf. He wasn’t entirely sure why, though he was sure he didn’t want to find out. He had trained himself to keep his mind’s eye on his wolf, yet be completely aware of his body’s position. Dax needed to be sure he shifted properly and didn’t break the rucksack or his shoulders during the change.

Eventually it was over. Dax stood on his hind legs and stretched, his neck cracking a little as he did so.

He quickly checked himself over as best he could, all four paws, tail and ears, all in working order. His black fur shone under the moonlight, but otherwise he would be more or less invisible in this darkness.

Dax was a rare wolf; he was completely black, nose to tail. Most had several colours lining their fur.

The rucksack was thankfully still in place on his back, the straps still around his front paws and the clip across his chest had held strong.

He had the fleeting thought that it would be a little funny should a human spot him – a giant black wolf wearing a backpack.

He might even make front-page news!

He snorted at the thought and pressed onwards. His paws were padded, and made little sound as he trotted through the wooded area of the Warren. He strained his ears against the night, listening out for any indication of life.

He could hear the waves crashing against the stones about half a mile in front of him; there was something small scurrying across the grass a little further up.

He paused, inhaling deeply, picking past the scents of the woodland, the trees, and the frost until he found the distinct scent of life, in all its smelly glory.

It was a mouse, of course. Bit late in the year for a mouse to be out and not hibernating, he thought absently, padding slowly forward.

Once he was sure he was the only threat in the woodland, Dax broke into an all-out run. He was much faster on four paws than he would have been on two feet and he managed to race the distance to the beach in a matter of seconds. The salty air became much thicker, making it difficult to smell much else.

Not that it mattered. Alison’s scent would be long gone by now.

The crashing of the waves intensified. They were almost deafening to his sensitive hearing, but it didn’t matter to him. He bolted along the stones of the beach, avoiding the spray of the waves as best he could and finally began to slow about a mile along the shore. He glanced up at the cliffs lining the seafront. His keen sight picked though the jagged rock and chalk until he found the discreet opening to a cave. He knew it was there; he’d been there a hundred times over the last three weeks. It was the last place Alison had been before they lost track of her GPS chip. Anger roared its way to the surface at the thought of that female, lost and alone in the hands of those bastards.

He climbed the side of the cliff with ease, the sharp rock doing little to damage the surfaces of his paws. As he reached the mouth of the cave, he jumped into it and listened intently. Nothing. There had been nothing here since Alison had been taken weeks ago.

Dax walked over to the heavy wooden door that stood at the back of the cave. It led to the sewer tunnels that ran the length of Folkestone.

Not many people would know about this secret entrance – although the damn Circle had.

Dax bit back a curse as he checked the security system he’d installed when they’d first found the cave. It was little more than a screen with two buttons, on and off. He nudged the ‘on’ button with his nose and placed a paw against the screen. The little scanner did a sweep of his paw and the word ‘accepted’ flashed up. Dax couldn’t help but be a little proud of his foresight. He’d programmed the security to accept both his human fingerprint and his wolf’s paw.

The loading screen on the tiny monitor finally gave way to the security system footage from the last two days; there hadn’t been a breach anywhere in this section of the tunnels. Crap.

Dax had set infrared lasers across the tunnels that spread throughout Folkestone and the cliffs. Anyone who entered wouldn’t know they were there but Dax would. Mind you, had he really expected the Circle to go back to the scene of the crime? No. Probably not.

He pawed his way back over to the opening to the cave; from up here he could see most of the coastline. On a clear day you could likely see France.

The light of the moon bounced off the surface of the waves, making them sparkle.

His mind was ablaze with questions, none of which he could answer.

Exhaustion swept over him. He hadn’t slept a wink since Alison was taken. Sure, he’d had a five minute nap here and there but he hadn’t actually let sleep take him. He was getting to the point of delusion, unable to concentrate for long and the smallest of things seemed to take it out of him.

He was a wolf, and a strong one at that. Yet the short trip from the car to the cave had his limbs aching to the point of giving up and his heart racing.

He closed his eyes, and heaved a great breath. Maybe Julian was right. Maybe he should look after himself a little more.

But how could he when Alison was out there?

As darkness swept over him, the sound of the crashing waves died. The salty air caressing his nostrils disappeared and nothingness took over. Dax let his mind go, the unanswered questions disappearing for just a moment as he gave in to silence. It was peaceful.

“Dax?” a small voice squeaked. It sounded a hell of a lot like Alison. It was probably his mind playing tricks on him.

Even so, he held onto the sound of her voice, memorising it.

“Dax?” Her voice rang out a little louder. He bolted upright, his head spinning.

He scanned the area, eyes desperately searching for her. Stony beach, waves, jagged rocky path up to the opening of the cave. No beautiful blonde female.

“Alison?” he whispered, looking around the cave itself. He’d obviously shifted back into human form in his sleep; he sat on the rock, naked and baring all to the world. Yet the rock wasn’t cold against his skin. In fact everything seemed to be exactly the perfect temperature. Not hot. Not cold.

The cave looked different; hell, the beach looked different.

It was still night but everything was covered in a faint mist. The world had lost all its colour. The sea, the rock, the stones on the beach, they were all just different shades of grey.

It could be a trick of the brain; it was the middle of the night after all.

But Dax wasn’t so sure. He’d seen this before in his dreams. In fact, this grey world was something he saw frequently when he slept. He would go to sleep and almost instantly wake up again, in the world he knew but everything was different. Grey-tinted and empty. It was almost as if he’d stepped onto another plane of existence.

When he was a pup his mother had talked of astral travel. His mother had always said she had the ability to walk ‘the grey planes’, the realm of the afterlife, where souls went before they moved on. But he’d always assumed he couldn’t go there, that his short trips to this world were obviously just dreams. Something he had convinced himself of since he was a little boy.

“Dax?” Alison’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Alison? Where are you?” he said, scanning the beach, the edge of the rocky cliff once again.

“Behind you.” Her voice whispered through his mind, and he spun around making his stomach roll.

There she was, in all her glory.

Her long blonde hair looked grey, but still just as beautiful, cascading down over her pale thin shoulders. He frowned as he noticed that she’d swept the length of it over her neck as if she was cold. Alison’s eyes locked onto his. Though they were now just another shade of grey, he knew they truly were a beautiful blue.

“What’s happening?” she whispered, hugging her bare knees closer to her chest. She too was completely naked, and trying desperately to cover herself.

“I don’t know,” Dax admitted, frantically searching for something to cover her with and coming up empty.

“Is this a dream?” she said. He could see the tears that were threatening to spill sparkling in the moonlight. To hell with this, he thought, standing up and walking towards her, covering his manhood and keeping his back away from her line of sight. His body was not a pleasant thing. He crouched next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into him.

“Whatever it is, I’m so damn glad you’re here,” he whispered into her ear as she leant into him.

For a while they just sat there, dazed. Dax was pretty sure this was a dream. In real life, he wouldn’t dare get this close to Alison.

In real life, she wouldn’t let him touch her. He wouldn’t even try.

Either way he was absolutely lost for words. He’d known this female for almost all of her life, since she was just a young pup! He’d begun working for Julian many years ago and had watched Alison grow into the beautiful female she was now.

He’d always been there on the side-lines. Looking out for her.

But now? He was holding her in his arms and he felt like an absolute idiot.

Lost for words.

“I was thinking about you,” she murmured, shifting her head to look up at him.

“What?” he grunted, cursing himself internally.

“I–I was trying to sleep. It’s so cold where they’re keeping me. I was thinking of home. I thought of you…and then I was here.”

Yeah. He must be dreaming. Maybe he wanted to find her so badly his subconscious decided to create a dream in which he could see her.

“Where are they keeping you?” he whispered. It was unlikely that this was going to help, but hey, he might as well ask.

“I don’t know,” she choked. Figures.

“It’s OK, baby girl. We will find you,” he soothed, stroking her hair.

“Why are you on a cliff?” she asked after a while, which struck him as odd. If his mind was creating a dream, his imagination’s version of Alison would know why he was here, surely?

“Because this is the last place your GPS chip showed up on the map.”

“That makes sense.” She sat up a little straighter, although she was still desperately trying to keep her body hidden from him. “When they took me, they blindfolded me. I couldn’t see anything. But I could hear the sea for a while.”

Dax turned around, holding her at arm’s length. Scanning her face, he noticed a thin scar that wound its way around her throat. That hadn’t been there before.

Surely his mind would generate an image of Alison exactly as he’d known her?

“Where did you get this?” he asked, gently brushing a thumb over the mark.

“They –” She hastily wrapped her arms around herself, hiding her body from him and cleared her throat. “They bound me with silver. It burned.” Only then did he notice the thick scars across her arms and wrists. Deep gouges where skin was missing. He carefully moved his gaze to her face and kept it there. She obviously didn’t want him to look at her injuries.

“Alison,” he said sternly, regretting the sharpness in his voice as soon as he’d spoken. She flinched at his words, snapping her gaze up to meet his face.

“Tell me what happened when they took you,” he said more softly, wrapping his arms around her, letting her lean against him.

“I was walking in the woods,” she said, fidgeting with her hair. “There were two tuhrned hiding, following me. They told me –” She swiped a stray tear from her face.

“It’s OK,” Dax whispered, “take your time.”

It broke his heart to see her like this.

“They told me the new High Lord wanted to meet me. They said that because they’d bound my soul –” She cleared her throat, visibly trying to pull herself together. “They said that they could find me anywhere. Because it was their magic that bound me.”

“What happened next?” Dax asked, a sense of urgency washing through him.

“They tied my arms and legs together and put a bag over my head,” she squeaked. “They put me in a car and drove for a while. I don’t know where to, but it wasn’t far. I could hear the sea when they took me out of the car. They carried me somewhere. It felt like they were struggling to walk. It was cold and smelled like the beach. I could hear the waves crashing as though they were next to me. I don’t know what the Circle put me in, but it was wet and horrible. It felt like we were floating. As soon as they’d dragged me inside…” She faltered. “I don’t know what or where. The sound of the waves stopped. It was so abrupt… it confused me.”

“It’s OK, baby girl, I’ve got you.” Dax hissed, struggling to make his voice sound even and tightening his grip around her.

“I was inside a room of some description that didn’t feel like it was moving. It was really quiet,” she told him. “Eventually they moved me to somewhere that smelled like a sewer. It was horrible. I could hear water lapping slowly against the walls but I didn’t know where or why. Finally, they took the bindings off and removed the hood. They locked me in a cell that smells horrible; it’s damp and cold. I have a bed and a blanket but little else.”

“It’s OK, Alison. I’ll find you.” Dax soothed her, stroking her hair, trying to chase away the tears that were freely falling now.

“DAX.” A voice reverberated through his mind. It was a male voice.

“Did you hear that?” he hissed at Alison.

“Hear what?” She looked at him confused. “What’s happening to you?” she squeaked, eyes wide. He glanced down at his own arm, which was rapidly fading; his formally thick and human looking skin began to grow transparent. He could see the rock beneath him through his own damn flesh.

“DAX. WAKE UP.” The voice bounced though his mind, making him wince. Crap, someone was trying to wake him up. He was going to leave this weird dream.

“Alison,” he said, urgency wrapping its way around him. “I’m going to have to go.”

“Please don’t leave me!” She choked, gripping his arm for dear life.

“I’m sorry, baby girl, I don’t have a choice.”

“Please!” she whispered frantically.

“Alison, listen to me.” He gripped her hands in his. He didn’t have much time left. “You need to break out of that cell.”

“I can’t,” she moaned.

“You can,” he said, maybe more harshly than was necessary. “You need to get out of there and get above ground. We can’t find your GPS chip all the time you’re underground. You have to get somewhere where the satellite can pick it up.”

“But how –”she whispered, but he barely heard it. He was fading away. The image of her was little more than a shadowed blur.

“You can do it, Alison. You have to,” he shouted at her. “Be strong.”

With that the world around him faded, the grey cave shuddering and giving way to blackness. He closed his eyes against the shadows and held on to the image of Alison’s beautiful face. He was going to find that female.

If it was the last damned thing he did.

“Dax. Wake the hell up.” Jake’s voice pierced his eardrums like knives.

“You goddamn idiot,” Dax spat, sitting bolt upright, making his head spin and his stomach roll. Though he tried to speak it sounded more like a growl.

Crap. He realised he was still in wolf form. Sat on the edge of the cave looking out over the sea. His limbs were stiff, and his whole body was cold right to the core.

He’d obviously been asleep for a long old time.

“Sorry, mate, can’t understand you when you look like a dog.” The Djinn chuckled, his blond hair blowing absently in the breeze. Jake was probably one of the most beautiful looking people on the planet, but it was completely fake.

Djinn of course had no body features; they were completely devoid of form, with slits for eyes, and an undefined opening for a mouth. Their bodies were creepy as hell too; they had no shape to them whatsoever, no breasts, and no genitals. Thankfully they could shift their bodies at will, taking on characteristics of humans, making them look more normal. And they could walk through walls.

Djinn had the ability to make their bodies go completely spectral and become ghostlike. And because of their ability to skin shift, they were some of the most insecure, bitchy beings on this side of the kingdom.

Dax growled at him, low and hard. He was an idiot for waking him up.

“Look, buddy. You obviously need to sleep. Do it at home,” he snapped, standing up in the small space of the cave and pointing out towards the road.

The Djinn was right; Dax did need to get home, but not to sleep.

He needed to do some research.