The Hunt Begins: Book 16 of the Grey Wolves Series

Prologue “Life itself was never a sure thing. For as long as I can remember, I was never certain from one day to the next where I might end up or who I might end up with, or whether those people might do me harm. Until Nick. I didn’t know how much I needed him until he was actually there. His steady presence became a beacon of light I could turn to any time the darkness of my past threatened to consume me. Now that light is gone. And I am surrounded by evil I thought only existed in the lower depths of hell. But now I know hell has moved topside. I know because I’m living in it.” ~Kara Kara picked up the closest thing to her—a vase, opulent and probably the most expensive thing she’d ever held in her hands. She screamed and hurled it across the room. It shattered when it hit the wall. The act wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she’d hoped. The broken pieces fell and joined the graveyard of busted objects that had suffered the same fate. Her feet began moving as they often did after one of her outbursts. Kara’s body could never be still. In the past two weeks, she’d paced so much she was surprised there wasn’t a path worn in the carpet. After her ritualistic marching, she walked over to the door and slammed her palm against it. “I will never choose you!” she screamed. Her hand beat the door repeatedly. Finally, her energy spent, she stopped pounding the door and leaned against it. “I’d rather burn in hell,” Kara muttered. Her body was strong, but Kara was exhausted. At first, she’d tried to refuse to eat anything. Then she realized how foolish that was. If she wanted to fight back, she couldn’t let herself get weak. And the food they brought her made her hunger strike all the more difficult. It was some of the most delicious fare she’d ever seen or smelled. The meals looked as if they had been plucked from a seven-course spread served at a fancy country club and brought directly to her. On silver platters, she was presented daily with turkey, lamb, and every garnish and side dish imaginable. And the desserts … those she did actually feel guilty about eating because, really, did she need chocolate cake to survive? No. But the temptation was too much. Everything tasted amazing, and she cursed the elf king the whole time she ate, which somewhat tempered the guilt she felt for giving in to the confectionary seductions. Kara recognized the meals for what they were—bribes from Ludcarab. Offerings, gifts of courtship. It was as if with every meal he was saying, “Look, Kara, these are things I can offer you if you would only quit being stubborn and choose me.” She hadn’t even begun to be stubborn. She’d eat the damn food, but she would never choose him. Despite the meals that provided nourishment to her physical body, Kara felt as if she was fading away. She missed her mate—Nick. She’d heard from other pack members that being separated from your true mate could be painful. Whoever had explained that little tidbit should be given an award for understatement of the year. They should have said that being separated from your mate was like having a hot poker shoved into your heart, while at the same time feeling like your soul was being ripped from your body. So, even though she wanted to fight back, and despite the sustenance the food provided, Kara felt weak. There were times when Kara couldn’t breathe from the pain of being away from Nick. Her lungs would attempt to take in air, but she felt as if bricks sat on her chest, preventing even the smallest breath. Her lungs wouldn’t expand, and she’d sit there gasping, praying she would pass out. Most times, she did. And that wasn’t a bad thing. Nick appeared when she was unconscious. Real or imagined, she wasn’t sure, and she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that he was there. She closed her eyes, attempting to conjure his face in her mind’s eye. Kara’s brow drew low as she thought about him as hard as she could. But all she could picture was a vague image of a man dressed in biker clothes. His face was blurry, like she suddenly needed glasses to see him properly. “Nick,” Kara whispered. She stumbled blindly across the room, her feet attempting to drag her toward a vision in her head, one that wasn’t even clear. Why couldn’t she see him? Why couldn’t she remember what he looked like? Panic rushed through her like a river. Somewhere within her, a dam broke, and a torrent of fear cascaded over her, filling Kara until she was sure she would drown. Why can’t I see him? She clenched her fists and stomped around the room, her energy suddenly boosted by a surge of adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream. When did I stop being able to see him? That was probably the better question. Kara tried to remember the last time that she’d truly been able to picture all of her mate. His shaved head, his piercing gaze, the stubble on his face that was never unruly but always seemed to need just a bit of cleaning up. Even now, as she thought of those things, things she knew to be true of him, Kara could no longer picture them in her head. It was like smoke slipping through her hands. She gasped. “That damn liquid!” Her teeth gnashed as she realized it had to be the potion she’d been drinking. What else could possibly cause her to lose the vivid memories of her mate? Kara tried again to close her eyes and think of Nick’s smell, his taste, the way his arms felt around her. But there were only hazy memories. Now, even her soul, which had always reached so strongly, so longingly, for her mate, seemed to question the authenticity of the memories. She looked around the beautiful room, taking in what was left of the things she hadn’t thrown at the door. A roar forming low in Kara’s gut rose until she opened her mouth and bellowed. She ran at the first thing her eyes landed on. The drapes, thick and no doubt worth a small fortune. They hung from the top of the wall, staring down at Kara as if lording their richness over her. She grabbed a fistful of fabric and yanked. One sharp pull was all it took. The curtain rod ripped from the wall and fell with a thud. Light streamed into the room. Kara didn’t spare a glance for the acres of meticulously manicured grounds that rolled outward from Ludcarab’s castle. She had no idea if she was in the elfin or human realm, and he never answered when she asked. It did appear, however, that she was imprisoned in a real-life castle. Under any other circumstances, her accommodations would have been cool as hell. Instead, they simply were hell … without all the coolness. Kara’s heart squeezed tightly, and tears filled her eyes. “NICK!” Her chest rose and fell, forcing heavy air into her lungs. Kara turned her attention to the bed. She grabbed the comforter and, with a snap of her wrists, tore it away. The sheets were next, but she didn’t merely pull them off. Instead, Kara grabbed one end of the sheets with her teeth and held the other with her hand. It shouldn’t have been possible, but Kara gave a sharp yank of her head, and the fabric tore with a loud ripping sound. And she kept ripping until nothing but shreds remained. Kara forced herself to pause. Again, she tried to picture her male. Again, there was simply a figure with blurred features. The more she tried to remember, the more unfocused the image became. “Why?” she breathed out, her voice hoarse from shouting. “Why?” Although she didn’t expect an answer, it still pissed her off that there wasn’t one. It was as if gasoline had been poured on the fire of her rage. The lamp beside the bed was her next victim. She slammed it into the wall. Then she picked up a large, pewter tray that sat on the bedside table and smashed it into the mirror that hung over the dresser. She continued to use the heavy tray to hit the ever-loving-s**t out of every object that could be broken, dented, scratched, or damaged in any way. “AHHH!” She wailed and turned in a circle, flinging the tray away. The corner hit the wall and bounced off, clattering to the ground and leaving a large hole in the wall. All Kara could see was darkness within. She paused, momentarily stunned by the damage. She stared, open-mouthed, at the gaping hole. Just as quickly as the fight had come, it whooshed out of her. She realized her soul was like that wall. There was a gaping hole where Nick should be. In his stead, there was simply a black, empty void. The pulse of her heartbeat was loud in her ears as Kara continued to stare at the hole. Surely this was not going to be her life. After eighteen years of never being able to trust anyone, of never being able to count on anyone, she finally had true friends. And she had Nick, her soul mate. Her life was full, complete. Was it all really going to be ripped away? Was she now going to be left with an empty shell of life, a half-life of misery, where her only comfort came from the memories of her brief time spent with Nick? Could she live like this? “No,” she whispered, shaking her head, unable to let that question linger for more than a couple seconds. “No, I can’t think like that.” She knew without a doubt that Nick searched for her. He would scour the earth and every adjacent realm until he found her. But the smugness of the elf king made Kara afraid that her mate would never find her. Ludcarab always seemed to know something she didn’t. It terrified Kara that she might lose hope, especially after only two weeks. She’d spent much more than two weeks in all manner of horrible situations. At least they had seemed horrible at the time. But Kara had only thought she’d been miserable. What was verbal, physical, or even s****l abuse compared to being separated from her true mate? During her orphanage and foster care days, she hadn’t even known her soul was missing its other half. Now, that other half had been ripped out of her. How could she survive that? Kara stumbled to the wall across the room from her cemetery of broken decorations and slid to the floor. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She willed sleep to take her. Kara remembered how Jewel had seen Dalton in her dreams when she’d been unconscious and how she’d said she hadn’t wanted to wake up for fear that he wasn’t real. Every time Kara woke up, she found herself feeling the same thing. But was Nick real? She found herself questioning his presence more and more, considering she couldn’t remember what he looked like at times. Was Nick simply a figment of her imagination? Merely an unconscious hallucination she’d created in order to cope with her hopeless situation? “No,” she growled out loud. “He’s real. He’s mine. And he’s looking for me.” These were words she repeated to herself every day, sometimes a hundred times a day. “Are you so sure about that?” Ludcarab’s voice came from the doorway as he entered the room. Kara didn’t get up. But she did open her eyes so she could glare at the elf king. He glanced around the room, his lips turning up in a smirk as if the destruction was exactly what he had wanted her to do. He never got upset with her when he found the room destroyed. He simply had the broken things replaced with new, equally opulent items. His patience was maddening. Kara would have preferred it if he would get upset, if he would rail at her, even hit her if it revealed to her that Ludcarab understood how futile his plan was. She needed him to understand he was failing, that he would never have her, no matter how much luxury he surrounded her with. Yet his cool facade never wavered. Once he’d taken in his fill of the space, he turned his gaze back on her. He was handsome, true, but he was evil. “Are you sure about that as well? Are you quite sure I’m failing?” What? Had she said that out loud? “You often speak out loud when you’re distressed,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Your mind is simply coming to terms with reality. It’s destroying the imaginary world you’ve built inside your head,” he explained. It was the same crap he fed her daily. “I won’t lie and say the way you ended up in my care wasn’t less than savory, but I did rescue you, Kara. You were an orphan. Alone. And now I will take care of you, always.” But that wasn’t true. Yes, she had been an orphan, but that was before Perizada and the others found her. She’d been rescued all right. But it was by Peri, not by him. And then she had a family. Anna, Heather, Stella, and Jewel were her sisters. Their mates were her pack, and Nick was her true mate. Ludcarab hadn’t saved her from anything. He’d taken her away from the best things she’d ever had in her life. “I will never believe the lies you’re feeding me,” she said, her voice flat despite the disgust she felt when she looked at him. His smile widened. “That’s the beautiful thing about the supernatural world. There are no true absolutes. There are exceptions to every rule. Anything, absolutely anything, is possible.” “Not this.” He shrugged. “I have nothing but time, love. I can be patient when I need to be, and you’re worth waiting for.” He pulled a vial from his pocket and strode over to her. Ludcarab squatted down in front of her. His masculine scent, unfortunately not unpleasant, flowed over her. It was becoming familiar. Yet another thing that pissed her off. “You know the drill.” He held out the vial to her. Kara didn’t want to take it. Everything inside of her screamed at her to knock it from his hand and tell him to jump off the highest mountain. But, way down deep, in a tiny dark place, there was a miniscule amount of hope. She wondered. Maybe … just maybe … that potion, whatever it was, could make her fertile again. If it did, and Nick found her, then perhaps they would be able to have children together. Could there be anything on earth better than bearing Nick’s child? She was a fool. Kara knew it, and yet she watched as her hand reached out for the vial, uncorked it, and then held it to her lips. In one quick motion, she tilted her head back, letting the smooth liquid slide down her throat. There was a tingling sensation, as always, and then her stomach warmed. The warmth continued to move lower until she felt it deep in her gut. She hated that her mind always pictured something similar to what her own magic could do when knitting bone and marrow back together. It was as if she could actually see the potion healing whatever it was inside of her that prevented her from getting pregnant. The idea fed her delusion, and she hated herself for it. After a minute of simply staring at her, the elf king took the vial and then rose. He turned and walked out of the room without another word just like he did every day. Only this time, he spoke over his shoulder, “Don’t worry about the room, lovely Kara. I’ll have it taken care of. Again.” “I’m sorry, Nick,” she whispered into the empty room as tears ran down her cheeks. She felt like she was betraying him by drinking the potion Ludcarab offered. “I should be stronger.” She slammed the back of her head against the wall. Then she gripped her hair with her hands. “I should be so much stronger than this.”