Alyssa slowly came awake hours later. She forced her eyes open, blinking against the bright glare of the afternoon sun.
She was tightly bound to the trunk of a tree in the middle of a dense forest, her arms and feet tied with thick ropes, a cloth gag stretching across her mouth.
A migraine throbbed painfully in her head, and nausea coiled in her throat. The moment her mind cleared, a wave of wild panic hit her.
She thrashed against the ropes binding her, her screams muffled behind the fabric. Her heart was pounding so violently against her ribs she thought it would burst right through her chest.
The lingering effects of the chemical sedative left her limbs weak and her head spinning in a dizzy haze.
Then, through the fog of her panic, she caught a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. Her head snapped to the side, her blue eyes darting frantically across the brush before locking onto a dark silhouette moving toward her.
Right before her terrified eyes, the shadow rippled, twisting and morphing like liquid ink until it solidified into the towering figure of a man. A black cloak shielded his body entirely, and she could only catch the eerie, feline gleam of his eyes beneath the hood.
He stepped forward, crouched low in front of her, and reached out a hand to touch her face.
Alyssa wrenched her head to the side, whimpering as tears streamed down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut as his coarse, calloused palm brushed against her skin, sending a prickle of disgust straight down her spine.
But he didn’t strike her. Instead, he untied the gag and pulled it over her hair.
With her mouth finally free, Alyssa sucked in a ragged breath, preparing to scream for help with the last of her strength.
"Don’t!" the man ordered gruffly, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Make a single sound and I’ll slit your throat."
Her mouth snapped shut the instant her eyes locked onto the thick blade balanced perfectly in his hand. The metal gleamed wickedly, and she knew with absolute certainty it wouldn’t take more than a flick of his wrist to behead her.
"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear. "Please don’t hurt me. I haven’t done anything to you."
The man completely ignored her plea. He straightened to his full height and lowered the dark hood of his cloak. His hair was shaved into a sharp, spiky mohawk, a jagged scar carved deep into the flesh of his cheek. His irises were a terrifying, milky, pale white.
Alyssa recoiled in horror. He seemed to warp and move in tandem with the shifting shadows of the trees, as though the sunlight repelled him.
"What... what are you?" she whispered.
The man slowly turned his head, those milky white eyes tracking over her features.
"Shadow shifter," he muttered flatly.
Alyssa hadn’t actually expected a response. She had never heard of a Shadow shifter in all her years in the South. The aura radiating off him was so heavy that she half expected him to whirl around and plunge the blade straight into her heart.
"Please," she tried again, her voice cracking as she sobbed bitterly. "Just let me go. I swear I won’t tell a single soul I ever saw you."
"Of course you won’t," he muttered, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He took a seat on a log across from her, carefully ensuring his body remained within the dark shade of the trees.
"I was hired to kill you. Once you are a corpse, you won’t have anyone to tell."
Alyssa’s heart lurched violently as a fresh wave of paralyzing terror seized her soul. Someone wanted her dead? Who?
"Please!" she cried out, the ropes cutting into her wrists as she struggled. "I have done nothing to deserve this!"
"Your tears mean nothing to me," the assassin muttered callously. "It is my job to complete the task I am paid for. But..."
A tiny spark of hope ignited in Alyssa’s chest. She raised her head, holding her breath as she waited for him to continue.
"Why kill you when I can make double the profit?" he said, his pale eyes gleaming with a wicked, greedy light. "I’m going to sell you off to the slave merchants. With your beauty and young body, you will fetch a handsome price."
His eyes raked over her form with a sickening intention, causing Alyssa to avert her gaze in disgust.
This couldn’t be how her story ended. She hadn’t fought like hell to escape Gerald’s sick cruelty only to be bound and sold off to monsters.
As for Arrow, he leaned his head back against the tree bark, watching the sky and waiting patiently for night to fall so he would travel through the darkness.
...
Dorian drove back to the mansion at a breakneck speed, the tires screeching and smoking against the burning friction of the asphalt.
The second he arrived, he didn’t wait for the car to come to a complete stop before shoving the door open and stepping out.
He marched up the steps and kicked the front doors open, coming face-to-face with a worried Pandora and a restless Anthony.
"Dorian, she’s gone," Pandora said, rushing to his side the moment he crossed the threshold. "No one has seen her since breakfast."
Dorian pushed past her, his eyes fixed on the stairs. "Anthony, get André in here right now."
"Right away," Anthony nodded and hurried out.
Pandora rushed up the stairs after her brother, carefully maintaining a safe distance because the scorching heat of his anger was radiating off him like a furnace.
Dorian stormed straight into his master suite and flung the doors open. It was empty. The faint scent of lavender still lingered in the air.
Whirling around, he hurried back down the stairs with Pandora hot on his heels, just as Anthony re-entered with a trembling André behind him.
"What were my orders, André?" Dorian growled, taking a threatening step toward the guard captain.
Faced with the terrifying weight of his Alpha’s wrath, André dropped to his knees and lowered his head.
"Alpha, I swear on my life, no one entered the mansion. Your guest never stepped foot outside the doors."
"Maybe she took a walk," Pandora suggested, trying to find a logical explanation. "I’m certain she didn’t want to remain cooped up inside all day."
"She never stepped outside, Miss Pandora," André insisted. "No one entered, no one walked out. It’s as if she just disappeared."
Dorian was on the verge of driving his fist straight through André’s face. The only thing stopping him was his ability to read emotions; he could tell André was telling the truth.
He turned away, his mind racing, his thoughts chaotic. If Alyssa never left the mansion, and no one came in, how did she disappear?
The moment he asked himself that question, his eyes locked onto a dark trail leading toward the massive arched doors.
A deep frown creased his brows as he walked forward, tracking the trail. Those doors led to the uninhabited wing of the mansion and the basement.
He stopped right before the threshold and crouched down, reaching out a finger to touch the black substance.
Behind him, Pandora, Anthony, and André drew closer, watching him in tense silence.
"What is it, Ri?" Pandora asked, her voice a fragile whisper.
Dorian didn’t answer immediately. He swiped the black residue onto his fingertips and brought it directly to his nose. The sharp, pungent, sulfurous odor of void-dust hit his senses, causing his inner wolf to howl out in a burst of primitive rage.
"Shadow shifter," he snarled, rising to his full, towering height.
"Shadow shifter?" Anthony repeated, stepping forward to peer intensely at the spot Dorian was inspecting. But he saw nothing.
Dorian flung the arched doors open, his suspicion fully confirmed as his eyes tracked the unmistakable trail of void-dust trailing down the dark hallway. He didn’t need to follow it to know what happened.
He turned back toward the main foyer, his jaw locked. "A Shadow shifter took her."
"How can you possibly be certain?" Pandora asked, bewildered. "I thought the Shadow shifters went into hiding years ago?"
"They did," Dorian muttered. "But there is a trail of void-dust leading down that hallway."
Pandora, Anthony, and André all stared blankly at the dark hallway. They couldn’t see a thing.
"You probably can’t see it because you have no demon blood," Dorian added coldly, his hands moving to rip his shirt from his torso, exposing the complex runes etched into his muscles. "Shadow shifters are the most deadly assassins in the continent. Someone paid an exorbitant price to have this monster abduct Alyssa."
"Goddess above," Pandora gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Who would do such a thing?"
"I don’t know," Dorian growled, his golden eyes beginning to bleed into a pitch-black void. "But the shifter clearly assumed no one could track the residue he left behind. He underestimated my bloodline."
"Let me come with you, Dorian," Anthony said, stepping forward, but Dorian shook his head.
"No. I need you here until Jake and Alec return. Shadow shifters are nocturnal. They travel at night. That means I have exactly two hours to hunt him down before dusk."
The tattoos mapping across his chest, broad shoulders, and arms suddenly flared up with a brilliant, blood-red glow. He crouched low, his muscles expanding and snapping as his massive Lycan form tore through his flesh with a vicious, deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the mansion.
Without a single glance back, the beast burst through the open doors and bounded into the forest.