Out foxed, p.18
Out Foxed, page 18
“Don’t speak to him as if you know him,” the lycanthrope, now identified as Phelan, said. He gave her hair a quick jerk—out of spite—and smirked. “You do not acknowledge him like that, foxy. Do you understand?”
“Leave her alone!” Dimitri shouted, pushing up from the ground. He balled his little hands into fists and his eyes began to glow. “I mean it!”
“Or what?” Phelan laughed menacingly, his grip on her hair remaining like a steel vice. “Are you going to fight me, little orphan?”
“I’d like to see that!” The taller lycanthrope cackled, his accent also similar to his comrades’. “Little orphan wolf against the mighty Phelan! He’d be dead in two seconds.”
“Put ‘em out of his misery, Phelan,” the shorter one added. “He’s been a pain in me arse for long enough.”
“So tempting, fellas,” Phelan said, his own eyes glowing in response. “But he’s not mine to terminate. You know how Breslin feels about that one.”
“Aye.” The taller one stroked at his beard and grinned. “Tis the only thing keeping the raggedy little orphan alive.”
“Do something with him, Seamus. We need to get back to camp now.” Phelan’s eyes landed on her as he smiled. “I’ve got a surprise for you, foxy.”
So, here she was, being shoved towards certain death—she just knew it.
Her hip still hurt so badly, and it was all she could do to take one step after another; if she didn’t keep moving, they would surely inflict more pain upon her.
Why did I ever think I could do this? She wondered, sucking her quivering bottom lip between her teeth. How could I have been so stupid?
‘Please don’t think that,’ her fox said softly, its tone one of sadness. ‘If you think that, then I will think that. We’ve come too far for doubt.’
‘I’m sorry, but it’s true, isn’t it? I can’t even protect that little wolf—how the hell am I supposed to rescue my dad and his friends? Look at these monsters! I can’t possibly take them on.’
‘Rane,’ the fox whispered, its voice filled with hope suddenly. ‘Rane will come.’
‘But what if he’s too late?’
‘Have faith. He will come.’
And she knew it to be true. Their visit into the future proved she would survive this, but at what price?
Her best friend was going to die; the man he loved, was going to die; and if this Phelan character had his way, she was going to be forced to do things she didn’t want to do.
Fear struck her heart then, and it felt like a million tiny daggers of ice stabbed her body at once.
What if Rane wasn’t Malcolm’s father? What if this...this horrible wolf was the one to impregnate her?
“No!” She sobbed aloud, shaking her head furiously. “No, no, no!”
“Be quiet, you!” The lycanthrope, Niall was his name, grabbed her arm quite violently, and whirled her about to face him. “I’m getting tired of hearing yer whining, girl! You best shut it if you know what’s good for yerself.”
With that, she was shoved forward again, and it was all she could do to keep from collapsing right then and there.
“We were supposed to bring some food back for our guests,” Phelan said as he led the way. He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled maliciously. “But who knows? My plan for you doesn’t require you to have any fingers or toes—not really.”
A strangled noise escaped her as she kept moving forward, allowing his words to resonate in her overwhelmed mind.
Her hip was nearly healed, and if she lost a limb or digits, they would possibly heal, too...wouldn’t they?
I don’t recall having no fingers or toes in the future...
“All right, fellas. Let’s get her tied up before she gets any more crazy ideas,” Phelan spoke, stopping abruptly. “Put something in her mouth, too. I don’t want to hear any screaming.”
“Aye,” Niall gripped her wrists and pulled them behind her back. “Stay still, girly, or it’ll get messy.”
She blinked rapidly as her vision blurred, and decided not fighting was the smartest thing she could do; she was already in so much pain, why add more?
Once her wrists were tied and a piece of cloth had been tied around her mouth, she found herself being led through yet another thicket, and the sound of rushing water could be heard.
They stepped into a clearing, which revealed a large body of water and the most beautiful waterfall she’d ever seen—well, it would have been the most beautiful, had she not been in such a terrifying situation.
“Sit here,” Niall ordered hatefully, pressing down against her shoulders until her bottom hit the ground. “Don’t. Move.”
Her brows furrowed in his direction as he walked away, but she was quickly distracted when her eyes landed on an all-too-familiar face.
Dad!
Seamus appeared with her father in tow.
Like her, his hands were bound behind his back. But unlike her, he hadn’t been silenced.
As soon as his eyes connected with hers, they widened in...delight? Joy?
No...it was fear.
His expression alone said it all, but she could also feel it as he came closer.
“Henley,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Oh, baby. What are you doing here?”
“Have a seat, pops,” Seamus muttered, pushing him down to the ground before her. “And don’t get any funny ideas, either. I’m watchin’ ya, and don’t think I won’t hesitate to gut her like a pig, aye?”
“There’s no need for that,” her father said, his voice rough and dry. “She won’t do anything, and neither will I.”
“That’s what I thought,”—he sneered and glanced at her again—“I mean it, girly. I will cut ya from chin to naval if you do anything stupid.”
She shook her head fervently, and he seemed pleased with her response.
Once he was gone, leaving them alone, she released a soft whimper. A tear slid down her cheek as she leaned towards him.
If only she could...
“Don’t!” He gasped, causing her to freeze. “Henley, you heard what he said, didn’t you? You can’t move, sweetheart. Stay...stay just like you are, okay?”
She huffed in response.
All she wanted was to hug him and feel his arms around her. Seeing his face was glorious, but feeling his embrace would somehow make this...whatever it was...more tolerable.
Reluctantly, she nodded in understanding.
‘Your father is smart,’ her fox said gently. ‘He does as he is told. If we want to stay alive, we should do the same.’
‘We get out of this, remember? We save him and we go home. Malcolm is...’
She couldn’t bring herself to think of the little boy anymore. Even though she was certain he had looked like Rane in the vision, perhaps he only did because it’s what she so desperately wanted; to be love, to be loved, and to have a family.
If Phelan went through with his intentions...
‘Impossible!’ Her fox was angry then. ‘Wolves and foxes cannot mate! It is forbidden!’
‘They break rules all the time,’ she responded bitterly. ‘What’s to keep him from taking me?’
‘Rane will come!’ It sounded like her fox was actually crying. ‘He will come for us!’
Another tear slid down her cheek.
And then another.
She so desperately wanted it to be true.
She knew now that they were only going to escape because of Rane.
It had been Rane all along.
He was the hero of the story; he was the reason her father would be reunited with her mother; he was the reason Decker and Trace would die, because he’d lead them right to their deaths.
It wasn’t her bravery at all, and now, in the midst of this terrible nightmare, she was about to experience something more dreadful than death, in her opinion.
Yes, Rane would come and save them.
But when he arrived, would she be the same person?
Chapter Seventeen
The earliest signs of the sun began to bleed into the sky, and somehow, in a way he couldn’t explain, he began to feel an urgency to catch up to his vixen.
With Trace and Decker hot on his trail, he’d finally decided they’d come far enough to ditch the car and continue on foot.
The woods had their advantages: being able to run freely was one of them.
He tried to remain calm as the scenery blurred past him. The sounds of birds calling in the trees barely registered in his mind, which was currently occupied with thoughts of the red haired beauty he desperately longed to hold.
‘We should have claimed her when we had the chance,’ his cat said in agitation. ‘She could call out to us if she was in trouble.’
‘We don’t know that she is in trouble,’ he replied, just as annoyed with the beast as it was with him. ‘We have to believe she’s all right.’
As much as he still wanted to hold onto that, he knew the chances of her still being out of harm’s way were slim to none; especially given the fact he’d caught onto the scents of new wolves—multiple wolves—a few miles back.
His cat desperately wanted to break free, and if he didn’t keep his wits about him, he would overpower him before he had a chance to track her down.
“Three of them!” Trace shouted, appearing alongside him. “There are three of them, Rane.”
“I know,” he called back to him, glancing at him briefly before leaping over a fallen tree.
“That can’t be good,” he added, easily jumping over a boulder, his feet barely touching the ground as he took off again. “I really think it’s about to get real, brother.”
“I know it is. Just do as I say, Trace. Promise me that.”
The younger panthrope stared at him with questioning eyes, the wind whipping through his hair as he ran along side him.
Decker was right behind them. Thought not as fast, he was doing a pretty damn good job of keeping up.
Maybe it had to do with the fact he knew Henley was in danger. It was no longer an ‘if’ situation, but a ‘when’.
He had a feeling they were almost to their destination, as the stench of werewolf became almost unbearable.
“This is Greensboro, huh?” Decker yelled from a few feet behind. “Not much to look at, is it?”
He rolled his eyes and reached for a branch a few feet ahead. He gripped it easily and pulled himself over a small ravine, landing easily on the other side.
He waited for the other two to cross over, and once they had, he took a moment to catch his breath.
“You two really need to keep your eyes open.”
“You think I’m going to go into this with them closed?” Trace snickered and shook his head. “I’m ready for it, whatever may come.”
“Me, too,” Decker agreed with a nod. “If Henley’s in trouble, you can count on me, Rane. I’ll be focused.”
“I don’t doubt that. Just,”—he sighed—“Be careful, huh? Three werewolves...”
“We can take them,” Trace said confidently, his eyes beginning to glow.
“I know, brother.” He felt his own eyes beginning to glow as a strong wind swept through, carrying the scent of three disgusting werewolves and—
“Henley,” Decker said softly, inhaling deeply. “I can smell her. She’s—”
“Hurt,” Trace murmured, his jawline tightening. “Scared. So many things...”
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.
Anger boiled beneath his already too-hot skin, and a growl rumbled deep in his throat as he turned to peer ahead.
‘Let me out now!’ His cat pleaded, snarling. ‘I can help!’
‘Just give me a few more minutes.’
He wasn’t sure why he was being so stubborn about the situation. His chances were better in cat-form, and he knew that—but he also knew he needed to have Henley in his arms as soon as possible.
He needed to kiss those lips.
“Are you ready?”
His brother’s question pulled him from his thoughts, and he wetted his lips as he nodded slowly.
“It’s now or never, I believe.”
“Now or never,” Trace echoed. “Are you ready, Decker?”
“Ready as I’m going to be,” the fox replied, jumping up and down a few times as if to get psyched about their impending fight.
Please let me be able to save them, he pleaded silently. Please don’t let that future be set in stone.
Trace took a step forward, and without giving it much thought, his arm shot out across his chest to stop him.
“Promise me, Trace,” he said softly, glancing at him. “Promise you will do everything I say.”
“Yeah,”—he nodded, his brows pinching together—“I promise, Rane.”
“Good.”
With that, the three of them took off, full speed ahead.
He wasn’t sure what exactly awaited them, but he knew his vixen was close—and she needed him.
———————-
The reunion with her father was cut short when Phelan returned for her, as he said he would.
He dragged her, kicking and screaming, into a cave hidden behind the waterfall she’d been admiring only moments earlier. She did her best to get away from him, but, as she’d always known, she wasn’t strong enough to break his grasp.
“I like that you’re so feisty, foxy,” he said with a smirk. “But if you don’t calm down a little, I’m going to make you calm down.”
Bruised, hurting, and exhausted, she knew he meant what he said. She stopped fighting against him, and he pulled her up to her feet.
The rushing water was loud to her sensitive ears, but again, it couldn’t hold a candle to the thunderous beat of her heart.
She knew what was going to happen to her, and she had to mentally prepare herself for it.
This isn’t right. Rane is the only man I ever want to touch me, she thought sadly.
“You look so sad, foxy,” he said, brushing the backs of his knuckles against her cheek. “You’re not as pretty when you’re sad. Listen,”—His knuckles continued their descent down her neck, along her shoulder, and down her arm—“You might like it, you know.”
Anger bubbled up in her then, and as her upper lip curled back in disgust, she couldn’t help it when she muttered, “Never.”
His smile never faltered as he explored her, his fingertips sliding over the curve of one breast.
She cringed and tried to pull away, but he gripped her chin painfully so, forcing her eyes to meet his.
“I will have you, foxy,” he whispered deviously. “In every way, in every position. Just ask them,”—he grabbed her shoulders, digging his fingertips in, and whirled her around to face the back of the cave—“They’ll tell you all about what you’re about to experience.”
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing: two women, bound by heavy chains and rope, sat upon the cave floor. They looked at her with dim eyes—defeated eyes.
The first woman, probably around her age, had blonde hair that was matted against her head. An angry bruise rested beneath one of her eyes, and there was dry blood beneath her nose.
The second woman was barely a woman.
She was much smaller, and her light brown skin shimmered with sweat.
She’s so young...
Her jet black hair was tangled, filled with twigs and leaves, and the dirt smudged on her tear-streaked cheeks served as evidence of something terrible—something both of them had endured for who knew how long.
And she was about to endure it, too.
Tears filled her eyes again as she stared at them, her breaking heart going out to them.
If only there was something she could do aside from standing there helplessly as her captor violated her body.
“Let’s see here,” Phelan spoke in a husky voice as he slipped a hand beneath her shirt. His eager hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them roughly.
All she could do was close her eyes and pray it was over soon.
‘No!’ Her fox shrieked. ‘Do not let him do this! Fight!’
‘He’ll kill me,’ she whimpered. ‘And then he’ll kill my dad.’
‘We make it out alive, remember? He isn’t going to kill us. We’re supposed to fight back!’
That was right.
They did make it out alive, didn’t they?
Who said it had to happen like this?
As the werewolf’s hands moved to the button of her jeans, she swallowed hard and readied herself for her next move.
Whatever she was going to do, she had to do it fast.
“You smell delicious.” He licked the outer shell of her ear as he popped open her jeans. “I bet you taste just as good, don’t you, foxy?”
She met the gaze of the blonde woman again, and the look she gave her...it was like she was trying to tell her something.
He groaned as he slid his hand over her heat, and she forced herself not to visibly cringe from his touch.
‘If we’re smart about this, we can take him out,’ her fox said after a moment. ‘We just need a plan.’
‘Well, you better tell me something fast.’
She decided to focus on the frantic musings of her fox as he shoved her to the ground, forcing her onto all fours.
She listened to each step of the plan her fox laid out in detail as he pulled her pants down to her knees.
She began to map out the plan in her mind as he tore the fabric of her underwear.
She tried to convince herself she could pull it off as the sound of his pants unzipping reached her ears.
“Oh, foxy,” he groaned, dragging his blunt nails down her spine. “You’re going to look good with my pup in your belly.”
She gazed at the blonde woman again as his flesh touched hers.
The woman gazed at her with knowing—no, certainty—as he licked the back of her neck and readied himself.
She wanted to crawl away from him, but she knew she couldn’t, if this was going to work; now was the time for bravery.
No more being scared.
No more being bullied by the wolves.
“Wait.”
She reached back to grasp him firmly within her hand, and he elicited a mixture of a growl and groan.
“Your reason better be good,” he grumbled, smacking her bottom sharply. “Why do you want me to wait?”
