Sis.

I groaned unhappily, feeling like the sleeping dead. And I was. Sleeping.

Sister. Wake up.

No.

Yes. You're in his bed, you know.

That managed to wake me up. I gasped, shooting up into a sitting position. I gave out a cry of pain when I felt my wounds stretch. Suddenly dizzy, I collapsed back against the soft pillows with a moan of distress. Slowly I lifted the many blankets that covered me to see that I was in panties I didn't recognise. A bandage was wrapped all around my chest, and another around my right calf. I felt a pull that could only mean stitches.

I gingerly touched my left side, right under the breast, and winced. I wondered how big the wound was.

How long have I been out?

Two days.

I spluttered, my eyes widening. What?

He paused, letting it sink in. I took a deep, shivery breath as I tried to process the implications. Okay...

You were traumatised. You shouldn't have shifted. You almost died.

He said it gently, but I could hear the disapproval and accusation in his mental voice. And feel it in his emotions, actually.

You shouldn't have transferred your magic reserves to me, I shot back. At the memory I seethed, making sure to let my anger drift over our link.

He groaned in frustration, not denying it. I decided to forgive him if only to beat him up later for it. Draining one's magic could be fatal, and we'd both nearly died. Now I was in some stranger's bed and I had to work hard not to tear up a pillow when I suspected whose it was.

Where are you? I asked before I started destroying the bedroom. A very pretty one at that. We could leave our bickering for a later time. When we were free of the werewolves.

Somewhere locked up in a room in this bloody house.

I miss you. I just wanted to touch him, hug him, make sure he was okay. Only then would I relax and think straight. For now, I wasn't in danger. Are you okay? Have they hurt you again? The rage seethed through our link again, coming from me. I wanted to kill that alpha. I was going to, when I had the strength and had my brother tucked somewhere far and safely away.

No. He sounded amused.

I narrowed my eyes and started to get up. I didn't want to, but my head felt all stuffy, and my muscles were cramping. Two days... were a lot of time to sleep.

Once I stood, rather bent over, I realised that I had very prominent needs to attend to. I spotted an en suite bathroom and went there to relieve myself. The bathroom was clean and done in masculine tones of black and red. I studied the black tiled floors, red walls and overall gothic design. You had to admire the absolute disparity between the man and his mysterious sense of style, though. Gunter didn't strike me as someone bothered about opulence. There was a shower in the left corner of the room, right next to two washbasins elevated beneath a large mirror. I whistled when I spotted the Jacuzzi bath to my right. The toilet was situated between the washbasins and the shower. I stared longingly at the shower but knew that I couldn't wet my stitches.

Cam waited patiently while I did my business. I looked awful when I glanced in the mirror. Obviously, someone had kept me clean while I was out of it because neither my skin nor my hair was oily. I didn't feel fresh, but I've had worse in the forest.

I found a brush on the counter, as well as a packaged toothbrush. I splashed my face with water before I cleaned my teeth. I drew the brush gently through my dark thigh-length hair. Someone had made sure to brush my curly hair because I found only a few mild knots in it.

Can you explain where you are? I asked, hoping he could. I finished with the brush and went back to the bedroom.

The bedroom, like the bathroom, consisted of a theme of black and red. The canopy bed's black linen was rumpled, the drapes over the beams a deep burgundy. Two windows embraced the bed as the walls curved inwards, creating an alcove. The walls were done in wine toned wallpaper, the carpet a plush, feathery opaque. The ceiling was high and slightly domed.

Seriously, Gunter probably dated a very willing interior designer.

And I was in his room.

Why was I in his room?

Yeah, I think I can.

For a moment I floundered with my thoughts, not comprehending his words until I remembered my question.

I need you to see you, I told him sincerely. I was used to having him by my side since early childhood. We lived together, slept in the same bed together with our big sister and Cam always followed me like a shadow.

Doubly here, sis. But I think your door may be locked. I know mine is.

That made me worry. Are there guards stationed outside our doors?

No, he replied, They didn't know when you'd wake up, and the doctor thought you were in a healing coma. So they didn't worry too much about you escaping, since, according to them, your mind splintered under the stress.

I snorted. Stress my ass. They nearly killed me by forcing me to change shape, and they dared to use Cam as a means of personally pissing me off. They might not be off about the mind thing, though.

I focused back on our conversation. What about you? Are there any guards outside your room?

A sigh. They don't see me as much of a threat. He sounded angry. Especially after they beat me up.

Don't remind me. A dark pulse, a rush of fury. I'm coming to you.

I felt normal when I told him that, like I was in control again. Protecting him was what I did best. I would not screw up again. Anything to keep the darkness at bay, to not lose my mind like the mutts feared.

I went to the door, frustrated at how slow my movements were. I couldn't seem to make my body move faster, which made me feel out of control again.

Focus. Keep calm and analyse the situation.

I kept telling myself that, refusing to let the memories of my near-death experience torture me. All I had to do was home in on Cam, make sure he was okay, and then I could let loose. Get Cam out of the house, come back, kill them all. I shuddered.

I reached the door – finally – and pulled on it. Sure enough, it was locked. I could probably break it at full strength – I almost rivalled an average werewolf's strength – but right now it was a dilemma.

I thought long and hard. On which level was I? Keep calm and rational.

I went to a window, another slow detour. It made sense that his room was on the first level. At times of emergencies he had to be near the action, and he would be near the prisoners. Such a strategy turned out to be my salvation.

The windows were locked, too, though. I didn't want to break it and alert the ear sensitive wolves, some of them in the house, and others most surely patrolling the territory. I sighed. What choice did I have?

On which level are you? I asked my silent brother.

It was hard to see in an ever-dark forest, but I thought it was either dusk or dawn. My internal clock was totally screwed up.

Second, he said.

How many energy signatures are you picking up? I was glad he wasn't kicking up a fuss, that he trusted me to control the situation. I wasn't in the mood to argue with him, and I could feel him repress the need too. I knew he didn't want me to do anything at the moment while my injuries were still bothersome, but he'd learned the hard way that it was easier to agree with me.

These past two days I've picked up a maximum of nine signatures, so the pack is bigger than we thought. He sounded very nervous. But something must have come up; some of the pack left this morning in a rush. Right now there are two females in the house with one child, and two others patrolling outside.

So. Five here, and four there. One was a child, which brought it down to four. I doubted the women would leave their pup alone, so it was a fair two against one. Not so bad. It would probably be a challenging exercise, but I had to get moving.

These wolves were amateurs; it was obvious in the way they fought in the forest. They were strong, but slow, with big numbers, which was how they overpowered me in the first place. If my brother had run when I told him to, I could've taken them. I'd had a very good teacher. One that I despised, by the way.

Okay. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to break the window--

They'll hear you!

Of course, I said patiently, rolling my eyes. I'll take them down. So, when I give the signal, we'll break our windows together, to make them split up. You'll be safe enough since you're on the second level. I'll take care of the one who comes to my side, and while you wait for me block your door. Use a chest or something. You wait until I'm done with the wolf at your side, and await further instructions. Understood?

He didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, he gave a long-suffering sigh that was barely a vibration through our link and explained to me where his room was. According to him, his window faced a driveway, which was an open, round space covered with gravel. I estimated it to be on the other side of the house because my room overlooked a small untended rose garden overridden with weeds.

Okay. You ready, bro?

He sounded sulky. Absolutely not.

Afraid you'll see your frog prince again? I teased, just to cheer him up. When he felt all gloom and doom, it had a negative effect on me. I inevitably felt the same.

Surprisingly, no. The sarcasm was thick and dry. But I'll miss the luxury of this place.

I spluttered. Excuse me? Is there something you need to tell me?

I'm kidding, sis. I swear I'm going to be claustrophobic from now on.

Have you been in that room this whole time?

He was silent for a moment. I'll tell you later about it.

I sighed, looking around in the room for something big and heavy. Do you have something to break the window?

Yeah, this room has a lot of knickknacks... By the way, you're not expecting me to jump from the window, are you?

I grinned but didn't reply. I already had that planned out, and I knew Cam would scream with terror when he heard what I required of him. I grinned, giving a whispering laugh inside his head, which seemed to put Cam in a better mood. I didn't need him to be panicky because that made a rescue ten times harder. If I sounded calm and confident, he'd trust me. It's been a long time since I felt this lethargic; it usually happened after I got beat up. If only the languor of my muscles didn't embody the calm before a storm...

I finally spotted a large candleholder. It was heavy when I picked it up and tested its weight.

You ready?

No.

Stop being so pessimistic.

No.

I grinned. Now!