“Yes. I’ve not had good home cooking like that since my mother was alive.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
“What if you can’t control me?” she asked.
“What?”
“If I go feral or if you can’t control me, and I can’t be brought back. What … how … I don’t want to die.”
He nodded. “Follow me.”
When she saw that he picked up his coffee, she followed him, eating her cookie as she did. They moved toward the gym, and she’d noticed a door that she’d assumed led to a storage room.
It didn’t.
Abel opened the door, switching on the light and allowing her to enter. The instant they were inside the room, she became aware of the warmth. Her wolf moaned against it and seemed to bask in the sudden flush of heat.
He didn’t say anything as they moved down a long, old-fashioned flight of stairs that led to a dungeon.
“You’ve got a heated dungeon?” she asked.
“A long time ago I realized that with a lot of wolves who’ve been hurt and struggle between packs, warmth helps to soothe them. Calming them is always a challenge, but in these rooms, it helps to relax them, to draw them out. The cold only makes them more violent, and their rage is always in full force. Heated rooms are expensive but necessary. When it comes to the pack, I don’t spare any expense.”
He opened one of the doors, and she stepped inside. There was no window, just walls, and as she moved toward the wall, she saw the chains. They were so thick.
She lifted them up, feeling the weight within them. “You’ve kept wolves here?”
“Yes. After sedating them, even when they try to change, the wolves stay shackled to the wall. If they do break free, I have reinforced doors. Everyone will be protected at all costs.”
Cassie felt relief as she stared at the chains and the room. “This is amazing.”
“Thank you. I will protect you, Cassie. That I can promise you.”
“I believe you.” She held the chains in her hand, wondering if they could hold her.
“Would you like me to try?” Abel asked.
He stepped toward her, opening one of the chains. Her heart once again was racing as he held it there. “Put your hand inside, and you’ll be able to feel it.”
She placed her hand in the chain, and he snapped it closed, doing the same with the next. Completely chained, she stared down at her hands. The weight was there, and to most pack, that would be enough to keep them still, to not fight. In fact, if she wasn’t so strong, she’d have collapsed to the floor just to take the pressure off.
It wasn’t even hard for her to hold the chains up.
“Try and pull free.”
Taking a deep breath, she jerked forward. She kept on pulling the chains, trying to get free. Nothing budged, and she breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how hard she pulled, she wasn’t going to get away.
People were safe, and she wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Smiling, she turned toward Abel.
“Feel good?”
“Yes. I feel a little weird that I’m really happy about that.”
“Do you like to cook?” he asked.
She frowned. “Yes. It … soothes me.”
“I’ve really enjoyed the meals you’ve been cooking. That’s what I want you to do every single day, and to bake for me and the pack.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, that will be your job. From now on, I don’t want you to hide from me. You’ve got to learn to deal with your anger, and to keep your strength under control.”
“I’ve never lashed out in anger.”
“You haven’t?”
“It takes a lot for me to do that, and no one has ever been able to do so. I don’t think that will be a problem.”
He stared at her, and she didn’t like the way he did. It was as if he was assessing her, trying to find a weakness.
“You’ve only lost control during fear?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
He moved toward her, removing the chains that bound her to the wall.
She picked up her coffee that she’d placed on the floor as she’d looked at the room.
They left the room, and she looked around, seeing at least six rooms. There was a room beneath the stairs.
“Are all of these rooms for wolves?”
“No. There’s one that is my personal room.” He turned toward her. “You don’t get to see that yet.”
The promise in his words made her frown. Why would Abel have a room in the dungeon? And why would he be willing to show it to her?
****
“Send this shit back. There’s too much salt!”
“There’s not enough sugar in these cookies?”
“Tell that woman she’d better clean that kitchen properly.”
Abel didn’t relent in his mission to annoy, to frustrate, to anger Cassie. She’d been so sure in the dungeon that she had everything under control, but she didn’t. She’d never been pushed to the breaking point, and he was determined to make her snap, to see how much control she actually had, and if she even knew that she was holding on by a thread. His complaints were pathetic. The dinner was oversalted because of him. He’d kept sprinkling and sprinkling. The cookies were more than fine, but he’d also dunked them into his drink so that they splashed everywhere.