Wolf's Capture Read Online Free Page B

creatures—not many given they’d already cleared most of the area in previous attacks—to assist an ambush on the town. Easy. Just like it was easy to set herself up as bait on the rock.
    Sit and play with the animals. Those were the orders. Let her innate power draw all to her, including a curious wolf.
    Her master had a specific goal in mind when he outlined the plan, such an intricate plot just to get to this point. The attack on the town, a feeble ploy to draw attention away from the true purpose today. Capture a wolf.
    The targeted shifter walked, unsuspecting, into the trap, a trap about to snap shut. She could almost feel sorry for him, but his life versus hers and a pillowcase of chocolate?
    Was it selfish? That depended. Was it selfish to want to protect herself?
    Still, though, it didn’t make the guilt any less. She turned her vivid purple gaze his way, their startling color in her tanned complexion always throwing newcomers for a loop.
    Her tone wasn’t the least bit triumphant when she said, “I’m sorry, sir wolf, but it is not I who is captive, but you.”
    While her brand of animal magic wouldn’t work on him—his mind was too strong for that—the dart that struck from the shadows was made to take out even the toughest predator. The second, third, and fourth tufted dart were precautions.
    His eyes widened as he slurred, “Bloody hell.” That was all he managed to utter before the strong sleeping agent put him out.
    The arms around her slackened, but before the guy could topple them from their precarious perch, figures appeared, their dark clothing making them seem like shadows come to life.
    The master’s men plucked the guy’s limp body from the rock and slapped silver cuffs on him, the metal painful to the touch and impossible for him to break.
    Almost she could feel sorry for the man. He’d not asked to get caught. He’d done nothing to deserve his capture. Yet, when he next awoke, the freedom he’d enjoyed would be denied.
    Welcome to my world.
    A world where all obeyed the dictates of the master or face the consequences. But at least he served good food. A well-fed slave was a strong one, capable of wreaking havoc in his master’s name. Or so she’d heard like a zillion times.
    Villains tended to stick to well-known speeches she’d noticed.
    Speak of the devil… “Well done, my pet.” His robotic words grated on the ear.
    “As if I had a choice,” she muttered to the robed figure, who didn’t so much as walk in to the clearing as flow.
    The animals she’d used to help draw the wolf had scattered as soon as she stopped humming. The spell that bound them quickly dissipated, and given their status as prey, their protective instincts quickly kicked in. All that remained to remind of their presence was trampled greenery and one comatose guy who would awake to doom.
    How ominous. A dire soundtrack of duhn-duhn-duhn played in her head.
    “Sassy words will get you punished, pet.”
    Blah. Blah. “Name something that doesn’t,” she replied, not cowed in the least.
    The master had tried to get her to show respect. Over and over. He’d quickly discovered that, while he could punish her body, her spirit refused to be quelled.
    Layla wouldn’t allow it. She held tight to the hope and belief that one day she would escape— I’m sure Escape #57 is the one . Yes, she’d kept count over the last few years. She’d learned from each one of her failures.
    Don’t hitchhike wearing only a thin gown.
    Don’t forget to get the key first before killing your jailor.
    Don’t eat the pretty red berries on the bush in the woods unless you need to lose weight.
    “You’re ignoring me,” he snapped.
    Such an attention whore. “I did what you asked. Give me my chocolate.”
    “And if I don’t?”
    “Then you’d better kill me because you remember what happened the last time you reneged on a deal.” She went on a hunger strike and refused to do anything.
    He’d had to postpone his plans,