Chapter 53: Out Of Control
I pressed my back harder against the cold brick wall. "I don't know what you want, but—"
The man moved faster than I expected. His right fist cut through the air toward my face.
I jerked my head sideways. His knuckles scraped the wall where my nose had been seconds before. Without thinking, I drove my knee upward toward his stomach.
He twisted, catching the blow on his forearm. The impact sent him stumbling backward two steps, but he recovered quickly.
My heart pounded against my ribs. This wasn't some random drunk looking for trouble. His movements were too controlled, too precise.
He came at me again. I ducked under his reaching arms and struck out with my fist, aiming for his solar plexus. He blocked it, but barely.
I changed tactics. Speed. That was my only advantage against someone his size.
I jabbed at his throat. He deflected. I aimed for his kidney. He twisted away. Each strike was fast, targeted, meant to disable rather than overpower.
Three years ago, this would have been impossible.
The memory hit me mid-strike. When I'd first arrived in Moonridge, alone and vulnerable, the predators had circled like sharks. Drunk men cornering me outside the diner where I worked nights. The landlord suggesting "alternative payment methods" when rent was due. Even other wolves who thought a lone female was easy prey.
I'd been so naive. So helpless.
After the third incident – a man following me home from the hospital – I'd enrolled in a basic self-defense class. Just enough to break free and run.
Later, I'd trained harder. Combat training, strategy, pack warfare basics. Darrell had insisted his Luna needed to be capable of defending herself and others.
Ironic that the skills I learned to impress him are saving my life now.
My punch connected with the man's temple. His head snapped sideways and he staggered, momentarily stunned.
I seized the opening. My right leg swept behind his knees while my hands shoved his chest.
He went down hard. The impact with the cobblestones forced a grunt from his throat.
I dropped to my knees beside him, pressing my forearm across his windpipe.
"Who sent you? Why are you following me?"
His eyes were alert despite the fall. No fear. He remained silent.
"Sabi! Where are you?"
Caelan's voice echoed from somewhere nearby.
My heart leaped. Relief flooded through me so suddenly it made me dizzy.
For just a moment, my attention shifted toward the sound of his voice.
Something cold and sharp sliced across my left forearm. Pain exploded through the muscle as blood immediately soaked through my sleeve.
I gasped and jerked backward, my grip on him releasing.
The man rolled away and sprang to his feet. A thin blade glinted in his hand before he tucked it back into his sleeve.
By the time I pressed my right hand against the bleeding wound, he was already running toward the far end of the alley.
His footsteps faded into the night.
I sat on the cobblestones, breathing hard and clutching my injured arm. Blood seeped between my fingers, warm and sticky.
"Sabi!"
Caelan's POV
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then the automated message that made my blood turn to ice: "The number you have dialed is currently unavailable."
I stared at the screen, my finger hovering over the call button. Must be a network issue. I tried again.
Same message.
What the hell?
I'd been buried in work for hours. Territory reports, trade agreements, pack disputes that had piled up during my trip to Moonridge. The desk in front of me was covered with documents requiring immediate attention.
But now the only thing that mattered was the silence from Sable's phone.
Storm stirred restlessly in my consciousness. "Something's wrong."
I pressed redial. The automated voice repeated its mechanical response.
"Fuck." The word exploded from my throat as I shot up from the desk.
My chair crashed backward into the bookshelf behind me. Several leather-bound volumes tumbled to the floor with dull thuds.
I paced the length of my office, my hand working the black ring on my finger in tight circles. The serpent band felt cold against my skin.
Maybe the battery died. Maybe she's sleeping.
But my gut knew better. The mate bond thrummed with unease, like static electricity before a storm.
I tried calling again. And again.
Each unanswered ring sent fresh panic through my system.
My fist connected with the wall before I realized I'd moved. Plaster cracked under the impact, sending a spider web of fractures across the surface.
Storm roared in my mind. "Find her! Now!"
I was already grabbing my keys.
The car's engine roared to life. I peeled out of the manor's circular driveway fast enough to spray gravel across the manicured lawn.
My phone was pressed to my ear before I'd even reached the main road.
"Scarlett? It's Caelan."
"Your Majesty?" Her voice carried surprise. "Is everything okay?"
"Where's Sable?"
A pause. "Sable? What's wrong? She... we went out for drinks tonight. At the Crimson Rose."
"Is she still there?"
"No, she left about an hour ago. Said she was walking home to her new apartment." Concern crept into Scarlett's tone. "Why? What's wrong?"
Her new apartment? And walking alone at night?
The steering wheel creaked under my grip.
"Caelan? You're scaring me. What happened?"
"Her phone's off. She's not answering."
"That's... that's not like her." Scarlett's voice went tight with worry. "She always keeps her phone on."
My foot pressed harder on the accelerator. The speedometer climbed past eighty. Ninety. One hundred.
If something happened to her...
"Which direction was she walking?"
"Toward Mason Street. Her apartment's about several blocks from the bar."
I was already changing course, tires squealing as I took the corner at dangerous speed.
A red light blazed ahead. I gunned it through the intersection, missing an oncoming truck by inches. More horns. More angry shouts from pedestrians.
I didn't give a fuck about traffic laws.
My eyes swept the sidewalks frantically as I drove. Every shadow could be her. But none of them were.
Another red light. I blasted through it without slowing down. A taxi had to swerve to avoid me, driver leaning on his horn.
"Caelan, call me when you fin—"
I hung up without waiting for her to finish.
I abandoned the car two blocks from the Crimson Rose, leaving it parked sideways across two spaces. My legs carried me toward her last known location while my senses stretched out, searching.
Find her scent. Follow the trail.
The night air carried dozens of different smells. Exhaust fumes. Garbage from nearby dumpsters. The lingering aroma of fried food from late-night restaurants.
But underneath it all, faint as a whisper, I caught what I was looking for.
Strawberries and roses.