I left the office with more questions than answers buzzing in my skull. The corridor smelled of old coffee and lemon cleaner, and each step away felt like shedding certainty. The people who raised me weren’t my parents – not legally or honestly. If they weren’t family, then who were my real parents? And why were those impostors so desperate to get me back?
I started up the staircase, hands shoved in my pockets. Asher fell into step behind me and, before I could push him away, pulled my hand free and closed his around it – warm, steady, anchoring.
“We’re going to figure this out,” he said, voice low and sure.
I let out a humorless laugh that tasted like old blood. “They raised me. They beat me. They tortured me. Every scar, every rule, every lie – I thought it had meaning.” My throat tightened. “And now you’re telling me it was all for nothing. If they left their pack and brought me here, if they pretended to be my parents…then it wasn’t to protect me. It was to hide me. To hide the fact that I didn’t belong to them.”
Asher’s brow creased. “You think you were kidnapped?” he asked, searching my face.
—
“Yeah.” The single word felt like admitting a crime, or confessing a hope. “Why else would they be so hell–bent on getting me back now? It’s like something shifted or they finally decided I mattered for some other reason. Leverage, maybe. A bargaining chip. Or a way to reopen whatever doors they closed when they ran. I don’t know what. But it’s not affection. It’s calculated.”
He was quiet for a beat, eyes flicking down the stairwell as if the answer might be hiding on a lower step. “That actually makes a lot of sense,” he said finally. “Whatever they’re planning, it doesn’t involve you wanting to go with them. I don’t know what the hell they think they’re going to achieve, but it’s not going to work.”
—
I wanted to believe him to rest on his certainty and loosen the knot. Instead old fear clamped over something raw. Memories rose: slammed doors, fists, the hush after being declared nothing. If I’d been taken, if my childhood was a performance to silence me, every lie about my origins gained rotten meaning.
“And if they come for me?” I asked, palms clammy. “What if this is the beginning?”
Asher squeezed my hand until it stung. “Then we make them regret it. We learn who you are and who’s pulling strings. We plan and hit back smarter than they expect.”
I let out a breath that could have been a laugh or a sob. The future looked jagged and uncertain, but at least I wasn’t being pushed into it alone. For the first time in a long time, the
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word parent felt less like a claim and more like a puzzle – one I intended to solve, even if the pieces hurt.
–
I went upstairs to our room and closed the door. I sat at the desk and logged onto the dark web the werewolves used a place humans couldn’t hack. I searched missing–children reports going back eighteen years, convinced my real parents, if they’d looked for me at all, would be here somewhere.
“Do you think they’d have listed you as missing?” Asher asked.
“If they cared, yes. If they didn’t, then they didn’t–and I won’t waste my time.” I said.
I filtered for two–year–old girls, the age I’d been when moved to the pack, which narrowed the list. I printed several reports and Asher and I pored over them. Many children had been found again; none matched my description. No two–year–old with blonde hair and striking blue eyes -the feature everyone always mentioned. I kept digging page after page until, on the last page, there was still nothing.
“Well, maybe they didn’t care about me.” I said.
“Or maybe we just haven’t found the right flier. There could be a million reasons why.” He replied.
“I wish I could be as optimistic as you.” I said.
We stayed in the bedroom a while before being called to the living room, where the rest of the family waited. Asher sat on a chair, pulled me onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around me.
“Now that we know Trinny’s situation, we need to find out what her parents were up to. I’ve called their old pack and am checking on missing children.” Dennis announced.
“We checked missing persons on the dark web but found nothing.” Asher added.
“So, she was taken, but by whom and why is unclear.” Dennis said.
“Any idea?” Arlo asked.
“I was two. Until a few hours ago, I thought those people were my real family.” I said.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” Dennis said. I half–smiled at him.
—
They looked eager to help me find where I came from, but it had to wait what was coming would ruin everything.
A metallic crack split the air. Glass sprayed like a constellation, a window exploded inward. Instinct shoved everyone down. The world shrank to my pounding heart and the thunder of
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battle beyond. Asher yanked me flat, his weight pressing over me, breath hot against my hair. Pinned and trembling, I felt the vibrations of violence – gunfire, breaking doors and terror unspooled inside me, laced with a fierce, stunned hope that this chaos might finally rip open the truth buried under my childhood.
“What the f**k?” I asked.
“They could be after my parents. The Alpha family.” Asher said.
“Who the hell are you trying to kid?” I asked.
I managed to look up and almost everyone in the room had been hit by darts full of wolfsbane and were unconscious on the ground.
I started looking around and Asher stood up to help his family, but that’s when I managed to get up and stand by the wall next to the window.
I glanced outside to see the warriors struggling against a pack of wolves–they were outnumbered. Soon, the front door was kicked in, and people stormed the house, shooting anyone in sight. They had either wolfsbane darts or silver–bullet guns. Spencer led the men and smirked when he saw me. Dennis and Petra had already been hit with several darts, and
before they lost consciousness, Spencer raised his gun at Asher. I tried to push Asher out of the way, but it was too late; he shot him in the stomach as I reached him.
I sat on the ground next to him as he bled from the stomach and everyone else was unconscious. He couldn’t get help. I mind–linked the hospital staff myself and pressed a throw rug on his wound.
I heard Spencer approaching and turned to see his menacing smile. He nodded at the men beside him. Two grabbed my arms as Gage lost consciousness and Petra tried to reach me-
it didn’t work.
“Get your f*****g hands off me.” I screamed as he dragged me away.
“Stop pretending. We’ll kill them all if you don’t come.” Spencer said.
“You’re twisted.” I said.
“You have no idea.” He replied, dragging me out.
I glance back at Asher. He’s trying to crawl, pushing himself up like his body hasn’t already said no. My chest tightens, ribs folding in on themselves.
Please, please get here. Medics. Someone. A hot, hollow ache thrums under my sternum in time with whatever is failing him. If he dies, I will feel it. I already do. Every ragged breath echoes in my head. Every shallow rise of his chest is a betrayal of hope.
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I want to feel him, go through this with him, know he’s getting help–but I have to focus on myself. Something waits for me that won’t pause for grief.
My parents won’t show mercy. They’ve been planning this since the moment they left. They’ll take everything, tear me apart to teach the pack a lesson. Their voices are sharp, satisfied.
I should scream. I should run back to him. But the rogues‘ grasp is unyielding, no matter how I fight.
A car pulls up. I do what I can to escape these men, to avoid the chains that once held me, waiting wherever they’re taking me now–back to the life I fought so hard to leave.
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LUCK DRAW >
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
SUMMARY (~1000 Words in English)
