Wolf Shattered: A rejected mate romance (Wolf Underground Book 1) Read online

The last part scared even my wolf.

  Soon, the last shred of humanity disappeared, and I growled at the audience with my hair and hackles raised. Hating the confinement. Hating the men even more.

  Distantly, I heard the words of the auctioneer over the speakers as the discrete bidding smoothly continued. The price rose higher and higher until…

  “SOLD to Alexi Antonov for half a million dollars.”

  Sold, sold, sold.

  The word echoed in my mind until blackness swamped the edge of the wolf’s vision. My legs crumbled beneath me, unable to hold me upright any longer, and although I was distantly aware of my jaw cracking against the cage, I passed out to the sound of applause.

  CHAPTER 2

  Am I dead?

  The question swam in circles in my mind and slowly brought me from the relative comfort of unconsciousness into reality. I wanted to stay there, in the darkness, in the silence, where this wasn’t my life. But it all came back in a wash that brought nausea and despair.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and wished I could stay unconscious. I felt weak that I would rather give in than fight for my freedom, but all that time of emotional torment and deprivation had worked. They’d torn me down to the basest core of who I was, then refused to build me up again.

  But they hadn’t destroyed me, I reminded myself. I was still here, still alive. I took a deep breath and forced myself to wake up despite my desires, blinking and automatically lifting my arms to shield myself from the fluorescent bulbs overhead and whatever else might come at me. A cold pit formed in my stomach and refused to dislodge.

  I was naked and sprawled across a large mattress covered in soft blankets. Terror had my bones aching and my blood freezing in my veins.

  Where the fuck am I?

  Scrambling upright, I clutched the blankets to my chest. This must be a holding room. Looking around for distinguishing features in the room, I found only white painted walls, industrial overhead lights, and a gray tile floor with dark grout. Easier to wash the blood out, although I saw no drain, no matter how hard I looked. It was all sleek, modern convenience.

  I shook those fears out of my head, only to moan at the pain in my jaw. Everything came back to me in a flash of fear.

  Sold for half a million dollars.

  I’d been bought by a stranger.

  My hold on the blankets tightened until my knuckles felt the same dull pain as my jaw.

  This room held nothing of the lush sumptuousness in the seller area, which only drove home that this was the clean-up area, where they took the girls to get them ready for their buyer. Either that or it was a doctor’s office. Turning, I winced at the swollen bruise on my thigh where the cattle prod had bit home.

  Wolves healed fast, which I was sure the organizers of the underground counted on, but I still had twin black-and-purple marks on the area, a reminder that fighting back did no good. I could come at these people with teeth and claws, and they’d find a way to win.

  I brushed my fingers over my thigh, mouth dry and tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. How long had I been out? Pushing the hair away from my face, I tried to focus on the room and ground myself. I reached for my wolf and the comfort I always found during the change, hoping I’d be able to shift for a little respite from the constant adrenaline coursing through my system.

  At least, I tried.

  I reached for her and found nothing… a blank spot, a wall where my shifter half always lurked. Something was holding me back from the change. My panic intensified until my heartbeat was like a rushing ocean wave in my ears

  What had they done to me?

  They must have drugged me while I was unconscious, keeping me from being able to shift. Keeping me weak and malleable.

  All the better for my buyer.

  Before I had a chance to go into full-on panic mode, a knock sounded, and the door opened to a large man in a white coat.

  I lost my breath.

  On instinct, I reacted, leaping off the bed and pulling off the sheet to cover myself. I scrambled to hide behind the enormous length of the mattress as though it was a shield that could protect me from the hulking mass of man filling the doorway.

  I had a gut feeling nothing I did would make any kind of difference. He sucked the air right out of the room, and I wasn’t sure it was a good or a bad thing, but definitely leaning toward bad.

  He didn’t pause under my scrutiny, if he noticed at all.

  He was huge. One glance at him and the small hairs on the back of my neck and arms rose to attention, followed by goosebumps over the rest of my skin. Not only huge but covered in tattoos, which was rare among our kind because of our regenerative abilities. It took a special ink deposited deep beneath the skin to last for any amount of time. A single sniff brought the awareness of wolf, as though my blood recognized him as my kind.

  Terrifying and gorgeous.

  Yet…

  I should be afraid of him. Pausing to take stock of myself, my lack of fear shocked me more than the sight of him. Instead of being terrified, every bit of sense left the building, and the longer I looked at him, the more my instincts told me to trust him.

  To go to him.

  It’s the drugs.

  It was the only logical explanation. In my position, trusting a stranger like him meant suicide. I knew I’d rather be dead than forced into whatever prison awaited me outside of this room.

  So, why did I want to touch him so badly?

  My hands reached for him, and I forced them back to my sides.

  Down, girl.

  “Hello, Mercy.”

  His voice was deep, a rumble that came straight out of his chest and resonated through my skin. He stared at me for a moment, his dark eyes intent beneath thick eyebrows, then he shut the door behind him with a gentle snick. His massive hand made the doorknob seem like a doll’s accessory—easily breakable… like me.

  I should have been terrified, but something inside me begged me to trust him, urged me to step forward from my hiding place. I kept my eyes locked on his but stayed where I was. These drugs were obviously influencing my instincts. I had to be smart.

  He stared at me, interest narrowing his eyes, and parted his full lips, partially hidden by a rugged beard the same dark brown as his hair, to breathe in my scent on the air. I must have smelled of something strange because his eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he purposefully looked away.

  “You’re awake.”

  The deep tenor of his voice rippled through me, sending shivers over my skin that shifted from fear to something different…

  I most certainly had a problem, and not only the fact I’d been kidnapped and sold into the sex trade. This man, this complete stranger, was swiftly eclipsing any fear I had for my own safety. I pressed my hand against my stomach and breathed deeply, willing the drugs from my system. This was ridiculous. My life was in literal danger, and I was responding like a pup going through her first heat. I needed to focus on finding a way out.

  “Where am I?” My voice trembled, barely audible.

  He strode farther into the room, his movements tight and controlled.

  “Where do you think you are?” he asked without looking in my direction.

  That was a weird question, but I couldn’t even focus on the strangeness, not when the syllables traveled over my skin like a lover’s caress. I shivered against the sensation. Which only proved there was something very wrong with me.

  I wanted to go to him and run my fingers over every muscle and commit them to memory. I wanted to feel the scruff of his beard as it scraped along my neck while his lips…

  Old Ones! I was losing my mind. Squeezing my eyes shut to block out the sight of him, I gritted my teeth to maintain focus.

  “I think I’m being kept in some kind of holding pattern before I get shipped off to the asshole who bought me for half a million dollars.” I punctuated the statement with a growl to show him I wasn’t as weak as I thought I was. Or maybe to prove to myself.

  “Goo
d guess,” he said sharply, still not looking at me.

  His tone and the flippant words he’d tossed my way broke through the lust that had stolen my mind. I didn’t know who the fuck he thought he was, but I didn’t deserve any of this. They’d kidnapped me, dragged me here, and sold me off to a bidder for Old Ones knows what reason. The thought made my stomach twist and try to rebel. I swallowed back bile and pushed my confusion and terror toward him.

  “Why don’t you tell me where I am since you’re in charge here?”

  Except he didn’t look like he was in charge. The head of the wolf underground probably wouldn’t be a doctor. Still, he must know something. Definitely more than I did.

  He kept his back to me, though, not deigning to turn to glance in my direction as he grabbed a stack of papers from a nearby table and began flipping through them.

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm? That’s all you have to say?” Frustration and swirling emotions—including the lust I didn’t seem capable of burying—warred inside me, pushing me to action. I gathered the sheet to my front and stood, knowing I should be wary of this unknown man, yet…

  What?

  Was I drawn to him?

  Intoxicated by a brawny stranger?

  It wasn’t the bun or the tattoos because I’d never been a big fan of the bad boy type. I wasn’t a fan of purposefully getting into relationships that would leave me hurt, which meant staying far away from those types of guys—like the broody, sexy doctor over there—who were practically designed by nature to hurt. I preferred good guys.

  Like Finn.

  He was a nice, kind, safe man, if a little boring. The kind of man who stuck by his partner and went out of his way to be accommodating, even when that behavior was a bit infuriating. Sex was good, if predictable, and if I was honest, a little stale. He stuck to a routine so tightly, I knew what he liked to eat on Monday nights because it was the same every week.

  This man and Finn were leagues apart, yet I was drawn to the former much more than I could ever claim for the latter. It must be a visceral reaction to the trauma of what I’d endured or…

  The drugs, sure, because I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of him. If I hadn’t had my hands clawed in the sheet, they’d be outstretched to do exactly what I’d wanted to earlier. He was gorgeous and terrifying in an intoxicating combination. My brain screamed that I needed to lean more toward terrified than curious.

  “The hard part is over,” he said in a low undertone, finally glancing up from the papers. “You’re quite strong, aren’t you?”

  His words buzzed through my system, but I was barely aware of them for the longest time until I shook my head, vowing to focus.

  “I’m not weak. I’ll do what I have to do to survive,” I answered, wishing for a miracle. I prayed this nightmare would end but knew, deep in my gut, this was only the beginning for me.

  “Good for you. A lot of women who come here are not in good shape. Aside from a few bumps and bruises, you seem to be sound,” he continued, his voice suddenly flat. He still held the folder in his hands, dark eyes scanning whatever it was written in those depths.

  “What are you reading?”

  “Your chart. You were tased several times and fell unconscious, so I ran a full workup on you to make sure you were sound.”

  I frowned and lifted the sheet to look down at my naked body. There were no marks left behind, save the bruising from the cattle prod. A full workup, including bloodwork, wasn’t anywhere near the most intrusive thing that had been done to me since I’d been grabbed off the street, but it stuck in my mind, churning my stomach. He’d taken my blood, touched my body, felt for damage. The thought made my skin burn and ache. Biting the insides of my cheeks, I shook my head as if it would chase away my insane reaction.

  Another few moments in his presence and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to carry on a conversation. He seemed to suck the air right out of the room.

  Maybe I was still unconscious and dreaming. Maybe he was a figment of my tortured imagination, a crazy prize for what I’d endured, and if I opened my eyes, I’d be right back in that cell with my buyer staring down at me.

  I didn’t want to wake up, but I needed to know if this was real.

  Keeping one hand on the edges of the sheet to cover myself, I used the other to pinch the inside of my arm and twist the skin while I closed my eyes and wished like Dorothy to be home.

  “Ow,” I hissed at the sting of pain, then whispered insistently, “Wake up. Wake up, Mercy!”

  When I opened my eyes, I was still in the sterile room with the king-sized mattress and the king-sized man. Worse, the urge to touch him had drastically increased. It was so strong—I realized much too late—I should have stayed hidden behind the bed. If only to stay away from him.

  Half a heartbeat later, I was across the room and staring up at him.

  He must have noticed my approach, although my bare feet made no sound on the tile. Slowly, he lifted his dark gaze off the paper, and his eyes met mine. His thick eyebrows arched in question as heat, electricity, and lust blasted through me, taking me, literally, to my knees.

  The air thickened, and my body shook as if an earthquake was tearing through the building. My center of gravity shifted, tearing from my core and moving out, encompassing…

  My mate.

  CHAPTER 3

  My knees gave out.

  I went down hard and would have smashed against the tile had he not reached out at the last moment to grab me and keep me steady. The moment he touched me, fire spread through my veins, obliterating the last traces of fear and leaving nothing but confusion behind.

  His sharp inhalation made my thighs clench.

  I shook my head, tears stinging the corner of my eyes that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with him. I’d found my mate… and he worked for the people who’d kidnapped me and sold me, degrading me in every way imaginable.

  No.

  He stared at me, his chest rising and falling quickly as his gaze raked over my features—my parted lips, my neck, my shoulders, my… I tugged the sheet tighter against my aching breasts, practically torn apart by my warring emotions.

  My mate… no, it couldn’t be real.

  Except he felt it, too. It was obvious by the way his demeanor had changed and the sharp scent of pheromones, not only mine, filling the air. His entire body seemed to tighten, then release as wonder and disbelief filled his dark eyes.

  As I stared up into his face, a million thoughts played behind those thick eyelashes, searching for an explanation. Perhaps the same million thoughts playing through mine, only that was impossible. My situation was slightly different from his.

  That thought burned through me, clearing my head enough to furrow my eyebrows. I was here against my will, fighting for my life, sold to the highest bidder, and he was a part of this world by choice. I wrestled my gaze from his and turned away to gather my thoughts.

  He couldn’t be my mate. Could he?

  It was too crazy, too astronomical, too everything to be real. I knew I wasn’t asleep, and my instincts weren’t lying, no matter how the drugs suppressed my wolf. I glanced over my shoulder, needing to look at him, needing to touch him. This man was my mate, and as impossible as it sounded, he stood in front of me living, breathing, and…

  Not looking at me again.

  Confusion painfully twisted my stomach. When the mating bond snapped into place, it felt like a blow. I knew he had felt it, too, yet he was staring off, shoulders tight, unmoving. He should be sweeping me into his arms, stealing me out of here, in awe of the powerful blessing we’d been given.

  I didn’t even know his name.

  Who was he? Beneath the clean and starched white jacket, he wore a loose-fitting Henley the color of a stormy sky and dark jeans. This guy didn’t look like any doctor I’d ever seen. The hospitals would be filled for a completely different reason. Women would flock from across the country with whatever excuse they could muster just to get him to lo
ok their way.

  He’d had the same reaction to me as I had to him, yet he was holding back. I was, too, but I was still in shock, fresh from being tortured, and still in danger.

  Standing still as a statue, I stared at his back for a long moment, waiting to see which one of us would speak first.

  “Get on the bed,” he said in a low timbre. When I didn’t move, he glanced up and scowled. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Mercy.”

  I slowly tore my gaze from him and moved back toward the mattress. A part of me wanted to go rogue and splay myself there for his perusal, let the sheet drop and see what he would do—if he would give in to the almost choking desire to touch each other. I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around him and press as close as physically possible.

  “Who are you?” I watched him, aware of every infinitesimally small movement.

  He didn’t answer my question directly, only paused as he typed something into his phone and hit send. When he raised his gaze to mine, his eyes were flat and cold.

  “That doesn’t matter. You’re safe. That’s all you need to know at this point. You’re safe and free to go home.”

  Hope and desperate confusion mixed, making my head spin. “What do you mean?” I asked, desperate for clarification. “The sale…” I stuttered over my words. “The s-sale was final. I heard the auctioneer before I passed out.”

  “No one is ever going to hurt you again, Mercy,” he said gruffly.

  For a moment, his gaze locked with mine, and I saw… I wasn’t sure what it was, but it made my heart leap. I loved the way my name sounded coming from his lips. Something deep and mysterious and exotic in a way I’d never felt before.

  “But what about the man?” I asked, pressing my fingertips to my suddenly aching temple. “The one that bid on me. They…the auction. His name was Alexi, I think. Last night…” I had no fucking clue how long I’d been unconscious, and nothing was adding up. I remembered shifting, then hearing the final sale completed for half a million dollars, but the rest was a blur of nothing. I pressed a hand to the side of my head as pain ripped through me. Why couldn’t I remember?