Chapter 4 Steel and Thunder
Jolie POV
I nod, my voice barely there.
“Well, you’re here now,” she says softly, rubbing my back in slow circles. “You don’t have to earn anything. You don’t have to prove your worth, you just have to be you.”
You just have to be you.
Maybe Mom was right about one thing maybe I am mistaken. But here, surrounded by kindness I never knew I deserved, I can almost believe some mistakes are worth keeping.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice shaking but sincere.
“Nothing to thank me for,” Helen replies kindly. “That’s just what decent people do.”
If only more people were decent. If only my own mother had remembered how to be.
That's when the front door explodes inward.
Three men in black tactical gear storm through the entrance, moving with military authority. Nightshade Pack enforcers. I recognize the wolf scent even through their human forms.
"Jolie Rys, by order of Alpha Dominic, you're coming home."
Helen shrieks and drops her soup bowl. It shatters on the kitchen floor, sending ceramic shards skittering across the linoleum. Hot broth splashes my legs.
"No." I stand up so fast my chair tips over. "No, I won't go back."
The lead enforcer, a man I remember from training sessions, grins coldly. "Not really your choice, little ash wolf."
My wolf surges forward, terror making her desperate.
"Fight," Ash snarls, no longer the cowering creature from before. "I won't let them take us back."
"We're too weak," I remind her.
"Then we die trying," she replies with savage determination. "No more cages."
The familiar pain starts building in my bones, but this time I don't fight it. If I'm going down, I'm taking someone with me.
"Run, Helen!" I scream as my spine starts to arch.
The shift hits like a freight train. My clothes tear as my body tries to change shape. Claws burst from my fingertips, razor-sharp and dripping. My vision goes red around the edges.
One of the enforcers lunges for me. I swipe at his face instinctively, catching him across the cheek with my new claws. He screams and stumbles backward, blood streaming down his jaw.
"She's shifting!" another yells. "Get the silver nets!"
But the partial transformation is already reversing, leaving me convulsing on Helen's kitchen floor. My wolf retreats with a whimper of defeat, too weak to maintain even a combat shift.
Strong hands grab my arms, hauling me upright. Silver zip-ties bite into my wrists, burning the skin instantly. The pain clears my head enough to see Helen pressed against the far wall, staring at me with wide, horrified eyes.
"She's not human," Helen whispers, looking at the blood on her kitchen floor. My blood, from where the claws retracted too fast. "What is she?"
The enforcer I clawed spits blood and glares at me. "She's an animal. A rabid bitch who needs to be put down."
"No killing," the leader says sharply. "Alpha's orders. She goes back alive."
They drag me toward the door, my feet barely touching the ground. I try to look back at Helen, to apologize, to explain, but she won't meet my eyes anymore.
The kindness is gone from her face. Replaced by fear and disgust and the crushing realization that she invited a monster into her home.
"I'm sorry," I whisper as they haul me outside.
She doesn't answer. Just wraps her arms around herself and turns away, like she can't stand the sight of me anymore.
The betrayal hits harder than any punch ever could. For days, I'd been Jolie, the runaway girl who needed help. Now I'm back to being Jolie the freak, the thing that doesn't belong anywhere.
They throw me in the back of a black SUV. Through the tinted windows, I watch Helen's house disappear into the distance. The last safe place I will ever know.
"Alpha Dominic is not pleased," the leader says from the front seat. "You've caused considerable trouble with your little stunt."
I don't answer. There's nothing to say. My wolf curls up in the deepest part of my chest, small and defeated. We tried to run, tried to be free, but we're just too weak to make it on our own.
The silver burns my wrists every time I move, reminding me exactly what I am. Not human enough for Helen's world. Not strong enough for my own.
Just a broken thing being dragged back to where broken things belong.
The SUV turns onto the highway, heading north toward Nightshade territory. Toward Thorne Blackwater and whatever hell awaits me there.
I close my eyes and try to remember the taste of Helen's soup, the softness of her couch, the way it felt to be safe for some days. It's not much, but it's all I have left.
The van stinks. I've been zip-tied to the floor for three hours while Gio's enforcers drive me toward my fate. Through the rear windows, I watch familiar territory roll past. We're maybe twenty miles from the Crossroads, where Thorne Blackwater is waiting.
"Should arrive right on schedule," the driver says. "Alpha Dominic will be pleased we recovered her so quickly."
My stomach churns. Silver poisoning makes everything worse the nausea, the headache, the bone-deep exhaustion. But it also keeps my wolf too weak to attempt another doomed shift.
"Think Thorne will let us watch?" The enforcer I clawed laughs, touching the bandage on his cheek. "I want to see what he does to little bitches who fight back."
Thunder rumbles overhead. Storm clouds have been building all evening, turning the sky the color of old black. Lightning flickers in the distance.
"Just deliver the package," the leader snaps. "What happens after isn't our business."
Package. That's all I am now. Cargo being shipped to its final destination.
The rumble starts low, almost lost under the thunder. At first I think it's another storm front moving in. But the sound doesn't fade; it gets stronger, closer, until the van's windows start vibrating.
"What the hell is that?" the driver asks.
Motorcycles, lots of them, by the sound. The rumble becomes a roar as engines surround us on all sides. Through the rear window, I see headlights cutting through the growing darkness.
"Rogues," someone whispers.
The van swerves suddenly, tires screaming against asphalt. I'm thrown against the wall, silver zip-ties biting deeper into my wrists. More engines roar past us, bracketing the vehicle front and back.
"Ram through them!" the leader shouts.
But it's too late. Something massive slams into the van's side, sending us spinning off the road. We flip twice before crashing into a drainage ditch with a sound like the world ending.
Everything goes dark.
When I come to, smoke is pouring through broken windows. The van lies on its side, creaking as pain shoots through my ribs where I hit the floor, but I'm alive.
The enforcers aren't moving.
Metal screams as something tears the rear doors off as fresg air rushes in, reducing the smoke and gasoline stench.
A shadow fills the doorway. It is Huge, broad-shouldered, backlit by motorcycle headlights. As my eyes adjust, details emerge: black leather jacket stretched across a massive chest, tattoos spiraling down muscular arms, eyes that seem to glow in the darkness.
When our gazes lock, something primal slams into my chest.
"Mine," he growls, so low only I can hear it.
The word hits me. My wolf, weak as she is, suddenly lifts her head with interest. She doesn't whimper or cower. She purrs.
He reaches into the wreckage, and I expect rough handling like every other man who's ever grabbed me. Instead, his hands are surprisingly gentle as he cuts the zip-ties with a wicked-looking knife.
"Easy," he murmurs when I try to sit up too fast. "You're hurt."
Blood trickles from a cut on my forehead, and my ribs scream with every breath. But compared to a partial shift, this is nothing.
"Who are you?" I whisper.
"Ryder Kane." His voice is so deep. "And you're under my protection now."
Behind him, other bikers are checking the unconscious enforcers. These aren't regular humans—I can smell the wolf in all of them.
"Alpha Dominic won't let this go," I manage. "He will send everyone he has."
Ryder's laugh is mocking. "Let him try."
He helps me out of the twisted wreckage, one arm supporting my weight while I find my balance. Up close, he's even more intimidating six and a half feet of lethal muscle. The tattoos covering his arms aren't decorative. They're are like warnings.
"Why?" I ask as he guides me toward a massive black motorcycle. "Why save me?"
He stops walking and turns to face me fully. Those eyes bore into mine like he's seeing straight through to my soul.
"Because you're mine," he says simply. "And nobody touches what's mine."
The possessive words should terrify me. Should send me running in the opposite direction. But my wolf practically purrs with satisfaction, like she's been waiting her whole life to hear them.
Lightning splits the sky as Ryder lifts me onto the bike behind him. The leather seat is warm from the engine, and when I wrap my arms around his waist, I can feel the steady beat of his heart through his jacket.
"Hold tight," he tells me.
The engine roars to life beneath us, drowning out the thunder. As we pull away from the crash site, I look back once at the twisted van and the unconscious enforcers who were taking me to hell.