Enslaved by the Alpha: Part Two Page 3

  Sabine left shortly after Ila returned Astrid’s bag. She had offered to stay, but Astrid could tell that she was at the end of her patience with the other shifter.

  “Watch yourself with that one,” Ila warned.

  “Who, Sabine?” asked Astrid.

  She was taking the measurements of Ila’s breasts and trying not to be obvious about staring at them. They were exactly the type of breasts she’d always admired, high and perky, sloped on top but round underneath, with light pink nipples.

  “Mhm,” Ila said demurely. “She doesn’t make friends, she just keeps her enemies close.”

  “She doesn’t seem like the type to disguise her feelings about someone,” Astrid said pointedly.

  “Oh, I just bring out her bad side,” Ila said, sounding proud. “She knows that I can see right through her. That, and I have Erik’s favor so she can’t order me around like she does everyone else.”

  “His favor?” Astrid asked, cutting the string and moving on to Ila’s waistline. “So you two sleep together?”

  “Mhm, regularly. Erik can have any female he wants, but he only frequents the ones that have his favor.”

  Astrid told herself it was simply curiosity that had her asking the next question. “What does it take to have his favor? Is it…”

  She trailed off, her eyes sweeping over Ila’s flawless body. The wolf shifter laughed.

  “Having the alpha’s favor, I suppose it is like being a model. It has less to do with the body and is more about how you use it. Beauty alone won’t hold his interest.”

  Astrid made a contemplative sound and continued with her measurements, moving on to Ila’s hips. They were narrow, and may have looked boyish if her legs and rear weren’t so shapely.

  After a brief silence, Ila asked, “You’re wondering what holds his interest?”

  Astrid shook her head perhaps a little too quickly. “Nope. I was just thinking it’s a good thing I have no flair in the bedroom. He’ll get tired of me quickly.”

  “And you want that?”

  “Yes.” Before Ila could question her further, she changed the subject. “Why do you think Sabine is trying to be my friend?”

  Astrid wasn’t sure that she believed that Sabine was somehow playing her. She’d been nothing but helpful and kind since Astrid had been brought to the den. In fact, she was the only woman that had taken any initiative to befriend her. Though maybe that was a warning sign in and of itself.

  “Sabine is in love with Erik.”

  Astrid sensed that she was stepping into the realm of gossip. Other people’s business had always held a certain allure for her, as her own life, up until now, had been rather dull. It took every shred of self-control she had to remain silent and refrain from prying.

  She didn’t know Sabine and she knew Ila even less, but one thing she did know was that they did not like one another. No good could come of getting in between two feuding women, doubly so when they had claws.

  “All done,” Astrid announced, putting the strings in her bag. “I’ll use these measurements to…she trailed off and looked around, her eyes landing on the bed. “If you don’t mind parting with one of those silk blankets, I could use the material.”

  Ila rubbed her chin. “Hm, let me pick one.”

  While the shifter sorted through her blankets, Astrid took a peek at the vanity, recognizing her mascara and her favorite tube of lipstick. Her eyes were drawn to the shelf next to the vanity, where dozens of pictures were either framed or propped up against the wood.

  She stepped closer to examine the photos. No two pictures had the same people in them. Most of them were family portraits, and they reminded Astrid of the Christmas photos her mom had drug their meticulously dressed and preened family to the first week of every December. The rest were pictures of women. There were a few that were obviously cutouts of models, but the majority were polaroids of young women, posing for an unseen photographer.

  “Who are all these people?” Astrid asked.

  “No idea,” Ila said airily. “I like to collect them from the trespassers.”

  As Ila said this, Astrid noticed that several of the polaroids had drops or smudges of something reddish-brown and crusty. Dried blood. It shouldn’t have bothered her after everything she’d been through, but seeing all of these happy people and knowing that someone they’d loved was probably dead, it struck a chord with her.

  “Why do you keep them?” Astrid asked, her throat tight.

  “Hm, I never really thought of that. I guess I just like to look at smiling people.”

  Oh-kay.

  Astrid was about to turn around when one picture seized her attention. In the corner of the shelf was the photo she’d brought with her to Nunavut, the one she’d planned on showing the Amarok pack back when she’d naively believed they’d be eager to help her get her sister back. It was a picture of her and Ginnifer, taken four years ago at a bar. Earlier that afternoon, she’d slipped up and told Ginnifer that she and Neil were trying for a baby. Ginnifer had insisted taking Astrid out to celebrate what was supposed to be her pre-pregnancy drink. It had also been the night that Ginnifer had told her she was dropping out of college to pursue a career in filmmaking.

  In the months that followed, Ginnifer had been disowned by their family—they took her back, as they always did—and Astrid had began her exhausting struggle with infertility. But on that night at the bar, they had put aside their differences and come together to celebrate new beginnings.

  Astrid blinked back tears, looking at Ginnifer’s luminous smile. She was already beautiful, with her golden-brown hair, long neck, and graceful bone structure, but when she turned on that mega-watt smile, even Astrid, who had always held varying degrees of resentment and envy for her, was charmed.

  Plucking the picture from the shelf, Astrid pocketed it. She was pretty sure that if she asked for it, Ila would try to argue that it didn’t belong to her.

  “I’m not such which of these I want you to use.”

  Astrid turned quickly on her heel to find Ila standing directly behind her. The wolf shifter was holding up a huge pile of silks, all with different colors and patterns. Before Astrid could object, Ila hefted them into her arms.

  “Take these and surprise me.”

  “Roger that,” Astrid said with forced enthusiasm.

  She stepped past Ila to grab her bag, barely managing to pick it up with three fingers. Ila had flopped back onto the bed by the time Astrid was leaving. Pausing at the door, Astrid asked, “Do you think you could help me get back to my room?”

  Ila was thumbing through the magazine and didn’t look up as she said, “Sabine left the lantern for you. Just go straight, then left, left, and right.”

  “Right…”

  Fortunately, the lantern had a handle, and Astrid was able to hold it in the hand that wasn’t carrying the bag, while pinching the silks between her arms. Ila didn’t bother saying goodbye as she left, and neither did Astrid.

  Ila’s room had been sectioned off and infused with body heat, which contrasted sharply with the cold tunnel. She walked down the path shivering and wondering if she would ever not be cold again.

  Astrid tried to conjure up memories of a humid Miami summer, both to warm herself and to distract herself from the apprehension that she couldn’t shake. The light only seemed to penetrate the darkness a few feet ahead of her, and between that, the echo of her footsteps through the caverns, and the creak of the lantern’s handle as it swayed, she felt like she was in a scary movie.

  She tried following Ila’s directions, but the first left she took was a dead end. She backtracked and took a right, but then found herself walking in a straight line for what felt like ages.

  The ache in one of her legs intensified into a cramp. She was about to stop and rub it, when she noticed that the lantern’s flame appeared lower. She kept her eyes on it as she walked, realizing that it was indeed beginning to run out of fuel.

  Astrid began walking faster, her pulse spe
eding up to match her new pace. Thoughts of Miami were gone, as her mind traveled to a much darker place. Earlier that year, she had read an old news article about a young woman from Ukraine. She’d gone to a party in the Odessa catacombs, a multi-level underground network of over a thousand miles of tunnels. After becoming separated from her friends, she’d gotten lost. She was believed to have spent three days underground, fumbling in the darkness and doubtlessly scared beyond belief, before she’d succumbed to dehydration and died.

  When she’d read the article, Astrid had remembered thinking that there couldn’t be a worse way to die. She had imagined what it must have been like, to be submerged in darkness, lost and alone. Know that each turn could be your salvation, or bring you closer to death. Had she held out hope the entire time? Or had she experienced a moment of terrifying clarity—the moment she realized that help would never come, she would never see her home again, and she would die down there?

  Just when Astrid was thinking that she couldn’t be any more frightened, she heard something moving in the darkness. At the same time, she hit another dead end. Her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest as footsteps approached her from behind.

  “Astrid?”

  She jumped, her bag and the lantern flying from her hands. Glass broke and there was a faint smell of kerosene, but the flame was gone, plunging the room in darkness.

  “Who’s there?”

  “My name’s Yves. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Rather than be relieved that she’d been rescued, Astrid’s mind immediately drove down another morbid path. She remembered what Sabine had said, about not leaving her room alone, as the males of the pack might attack her. Now, here she was, God only knew how far below ground, cornered by an unfamiliar werewolf.

  When Astrid didn’t respond, the wolf asked, “Were you lost? Where are you headed? I can take you there.”

  “Erik’s room,” she blurted.

  It was one of the last places she wanted to be, second only to being lost in the tunnels. But she also remembered what Erik had said, that the males wouldn’t bother her if they knew she belonged to him. She hadn’t bathed, so she assumed that Erik’s scent still clung to her skin. Still, she wanted to make it perfectly clear that she wasn’t available.

  “Erik’s room?” he asked, sounding uncertain. “Are you sure he’s okay with that?”

  “He told me to wait for him there, but I got a little turned around. If you could take me there, I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

  Yves hesitated, and she wondered if she hadn’t oversold the lie. Erik didn’t strike her as the appreciative type and she didn’t know him half as well as his own pack mates would.

  Astrid cleared her throat. “Look, the truth is, I was supposed to stay in his room, but I needed to grab a few things. It would really help if you could just take me there.”

  Or anywhere, just get me the hell out of here.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice turning soft. “I’ll get you back there before he even knows you left. Here, take my hand.”

  She did, and he was pleasantly warm. He gently pulled her along.

  “Oh, wait, my bag is—”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it. Want me to carry some of those blankets, too?”

  “That’s okay, I’ve got them.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind. Erik’s room is still a fair distance from here. And if you get tired, I can shift and carry you.”

  Astrid had been teetering on the brink of becoming a full-blown cynic for the past few years, and in the past couple days, it seemed that Erik had finally tipped her over the edge. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that Yves was being friendly towards her for no reason, and decided that he had to have some sort of ulterior motive. She engaged him in conversation, but only so that she could get an angle on him.

  “How did you know my name?”

  “You’re all the pack has been talking about for days,” he told her. She could hear the wry amusement in his voice as he added, “No offense, but I’m rather sick of hearing about you.”

  Okay, maybe he wasn’t that bad.

  “I suppose that was a dumb question, and no offense taken.”

  “But I am glad that I caught your scent down here,” he said.

  “Why, because I would have froze to death if you hadn’t found me?”

  “Well, that, and I’ll finally have an interesting story to tell.”

  Astrid couldn’t help but laugh. “This is an interesting story?”

  “Not by your standards, I’m sure,” he said, laughing as well. “But everyone is interested in you. They want to know about you, where you come from, what you’re like.”

  That surprised her. Astrid had found the pack to be very standoffish towards her. She had even thought earlier that Sabine seemed to be the only shifter aside from Halley and Sten that would give her the time of day.

  “If they want to get to know me, why don’t they just come up and introduce themselves?”

  Yves thought on it for a moment, and then said, “It’s hard to explain to a human. Most of them take their cues from the alpha. They’re waiting to see how Erik treats you so they know how to treat you.”

  Good God…

  Would the pack also start treating her like crap? How long would that last? The rest of her life?

  Yves made small talk with her for the rest of the trek. Astrid was polite, but detached. As the darkness steadily gave way to faint blue light, she could just make out Yves’s face. He looked young, probably in his early twenties, but he sported light hair that she suspected was white. Had she met him before Erik, she probably would have found him tall and handsome, if not a bit boyish. But compared to the alpha, he was decidedly average.

  “I’ll leave you here,” he said, as they stopped at a fork in the tunnel. He handed Astrid her bag. “Down there on the left is Erik’s room.”

  “Can’t you take me there?” She asked, not wanting to be left alone again, especially with dubious directions.

  He scratched the back of his head. “I’m really not supposed to be down here. Erik’s room is off limits.”

  Astrid considered asking him to take her to her own room, now that she knew Yves better. But he’d been so nice, she didn’t want to admit that she’d been lying, or worse, why she’d lied in the first place.

  “Promise it’s right up ahead and I won’t get lost and freeze to death?”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Promise.”

  “All right. It was pleasure meeting you, Yves,” she said, inclining her head. “Tell them good things about me, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  Yves left before she did, leaving her standing at the crossway. She rocked on the heels of her feet, unsure what she wanted to do next. There was enough light that she could see her path now, and she considered trying to find her room. But the memory of her earlier crisis was still too fresh. If she went to Erik’s room, he might get pissed, but at least she wouldn’t be lost.

  “What’s the worst he could do, imprison me more?” she muttered.

  Even as she hung a left and headed down the tunnel, she knew how ridiculous that statement was. For a prisoner, she had a great deal of liberties and as bad as her situation was, Erik had the power to make it a lot worse.

  Astrid would have missed Erik’s room, had she not been drawn to his sharp, masculine scent. She stopped, turned, and took a few steps back, to where a narrow crevice split the wall. She ran her hand over the cold stone, and then stepped inside. The opening was a bit wider past the initial pinch, and she could imagine Erik just managing to fit through in his wolf form.

  She expected the inside of Erik’s room to be a vast cavern with ice-capped stalactites and pervasive darkness, every bit as intimidating as the alpha himself. Instead, she found a room slightly smaller than her bedroom back in Florida. Scant amounts of light came in from the crevice, faintly illuminating the white pelts on the floor. The pi
le dipped in the center, where she could imagine the black wolf might curl up when he slept. The room was by no means warm, but the air was still and free from the draft that plagued the tunnels and even her own room.

  Erik wasn’t there, and she was okay with that. His room was oddly cozy, and she didn’t mind being alone there for a little bit. She dropped her bag by the entrance, tossed the silks on the floor, and then collapsed on top of them.

  Relief flooded her tired limbs, but her mind was still in turmoil. She had learned more today about the workings of a wolf pack than she had learned from Ginnifer’s entire documentary. And what this information all boiled down to was that if she didn’t figure out how to ingratiate herself to Erik, she was going to be worthless in the eyes of his wolves.

  “He’ll get tired of you,” she said as she stared up at the ceiling. Her breath hung in the air in front of her. “He’ll get tired of having sex with you and then you’ll be nothing to him.”

  Nothing to the pack.

  Nothing at all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sten shifted as they entered the main room, a signal that he wanted to speak. Erik did not bother masking his irritation as he shifted. He’d had enough talking for one day, and his eyes were already scanning the room, seeking out the human. Before he could stop himself, he was lifting his nose to the air, searching for her scent.

  “What is it?” Sten asked, looking perturbed as he joined Erik in sniffing at the air.

  Erik shook his head. “Never mind. What do you want?”

  Frowning, Sten nodded towards his pup, who was on the far side of the room, napping on top of the dog. “I can’t leave right away. I need to make arrangements for someone to look after Halley.”

  Erik spied Sabine towards the center of the room. The white wolf lay stretched out, languidly cleaning her paw. She was alone.

  “I will have Sabine handle it,” he said, already walking towards her.