You only heard the step behind you when it was long since too late.
A large hand clamped hard over your mouth. An arm wrapped around your torso and yanked you backward.
You kicked out, caught something, heard a curse.
"Damn it, hold her still."
You bit down.
"Shit!"
For a brief moment the grip loosened.
Then there were two.
As the car raced over the uneven road, you sat on the back seat between two strange wolves.
Your hands were bound.
A broad cloth had been over your mouth until you bit through the second one, and after that they left your face alone.
And none of the men seemed particularly interested in explaining to you where they were taking you.
You glared at the man to your right.
"Mmph."
He looked at you.
"No."
You raised an eyebrow.
"Mmph?"
"You're not getting that thing off."
You kicked him in the shin.
"Damn it!"
The driver laughed dryly.
"I told you not to sit next to her."
"Just drive."
You leaned back and memorized both faces very carefully.
The estate eventually appeared between dark trees.
Large.
Remote.
Too many guards.
As you were pulled from the car, the air was heavy with the scent of a wolf.
Not just any wolf.
The Alpha of one of the most powerful territories.
The scent hung over the entire grounds like a thunderstorm just before it strikes.
The closer you came to the main house, the stronger it became.
And the more tense the men beside you became.
On the upper floor, one of them stopped in front of a heavy door.
From the other side came a dull thud.
Then another.
Wood groaned.
Metal clinked.
The man beside you froze.
"He's awake again."
You looked at him.
He did not look back.
That was reassuring.
Not at all.
The door was opened.
Heat struck you.
And a scent so strong that your own instinct reacted immediately.
Alpha.
Rage.
Pain.
Something wild, restless.
Thorben Ravndal was not lying calmly in bed.
He was bound to the massive frame with heavy metal cuffs.
A chain pulled taut as he jerked upright.
His bare torso glistened with sweat. Muscles stood hard beneath the skin. An old scar ran across his shoulder.
His grey-green eyes were almost as bright as morning mist.
"Who."
The voice was deep and rough.
Not a proper sentence.
More a warning.
One of the men behind you pushed you a step forward.
Thorben yanked at the chain.
Metal struck wood.
"Who is that? Where is Sissel?"
No one answered.
Thorben's gaze fell on you.
And stayed there.
For a moment he became completely still.
Then his face changed.
His nostrils flared.
His wolf had caught your scent.
The chains pulled taut again.
"No."
It did not sound like rejection.
It sounded like someone who had suddenly understood something he did not like at all.
You stood in the middle of the room, bound, gagged, and quite certainly on the verge of murdering the first man who freed your hands.
Thorben pulled at the chains again.
"Take."
His voice broke roughly.
A deep growl vibrated through the room.
"Her."
Another jerk.
"Here."
Out.
Behind you, no one moved.
Thorben's gaze shot past you.
"OUT!"
The men flinched.
One grabbed your arm.
Thorben growled so deeply that the man immediately let go again.
And in that very moment, you realized that no one in this room really knew what Thorben Ravndal would do next.
They undid your bonds in a hurry and got out.
The door does not lock. He says that first:
"Nine minutes down the hill there is a car, and Arndt will drive you, and I will not follow. Or stay, and ask me what the elders did not tell you. What they did to bring you here was not my order."
The heavy door was bolted behind them.
Thorben Ravndal stared at you.