Sam

THE RUMBLING under my ears fills my world. Cool air hits my face and then I’m tucked into a seat and strapped in. Two doors slam, one after another, and a big presence fills the space beside me.

I say the first word that’s usually on my lips. “Master?”

“I’m not your master,” the voice growls and my eyes fly open.

A scarred face greets me. He’s glowering at me and I lower my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he snarls and I duck my head. “No, fuck, don’t do that.” I peer at him.

He’s rubbing his chest. “You’re all right. You’re safe with me.” He puts the truck in gear and pulls from the curb.

My fingers creep up and check for my collar. It’s still buckled snug around my throat. I sigh, sinking further into the passenger seat.

I do what I do best and stay meek and quiet for the first few minutes of the ride. I should be frantic leaving my master’s neighborhood with a strange shifter. A huge, angry shifter who hasn’t stopped growling since he unlocked my cage, scooped me into his arms and carried me from the house to the truck.

The road flies by before I have the courage to speak up. “Are you okay?” “What?” He looks startled.

I shrink deeper into my seat. “You’re growling.”

He grimaces and rubs his chest. “Yeah. My bear didn’t like how you were being kept.”

I almost agree with him out loud, but a twinge of guilt keeps me from speaking against my master.

“Did my master send you to get me?”

The big guy looks away and I know his answer before he tells me. “No.”

I chew on this for the next few miles. I’m pretty calm, all things considered. But then, I’ve always rolled with life’s punches. When you’re a submissive shifter, there’s not much else you can do. The world is big and bad and the animal inside me likes to hide.

Now she’s alert, taking stock of our surroundings without the usual fearful edge. The truck is big and loud but doesn’t smell like the big shifter bear beside me.

“This is a nice truck,” I say.

“Not mine,” he grunts. After changing lanes, he offers more. “I stole it. I only had my bike and didn’t want to wake you.”

I glance out the window at the exit signs flying by. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.”

Safe. The magic word. My fox relaxes. She doesn’t retreat, but I’m filled with the happy drowsiness that I rarely feel and always seek. My fox is usually on such high alert watching for predators, it takes the controlled pain to quiet her, to let me sleep. Even in subspace, she’s silently watching and waiting, filled with disappointment for a master that won’t appear. A good master. Someone who will protect us and keep us safe.

The sun cresting over the mountains means it’s morning.

“How long did I sleep?”

“Fuck if I know,” he sounds angry, but my fox is tuned into the loud rumble in his chest, and she knows the anger isn’t directed at her. “I arrived and you were alone. Why the fuck did your master leave you after a scene? Not just alone, but in a fucking cage?”

“My fox doesn’t always do well when I’m asleep. She’s scared.” Scaredy fox, I call her.

“You don’t belong in a fucking cage,” the male says, his voice mixing with his bear’s in a nearly unintelligible growl.

I bow my head and the rumbling in his chest subsides.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he mutters. He spares me a quick glance. His eyes are a mix of brown and gold, his bear making his presence known.

“You don’t scare me,” I assure him, my heart light and free when I realize it’s true.

“Here.” The bear hands me a bottle of water. “You need to drink something.” I recognize the bottle as one of Santiago’s fancy imported waters. My vampire master wouldn’t waste something so fancy on me. I don’t know if I can

tell the bear that.

With a grunt, the bear pushes the water on me, and I don’t protest. I’m parched. The water is cool, almost sweet, and I drain the whole bottle.

“He shouldn’t have left you,” the big man mutters. I gnaw my lip, studying him out of the corner of my eye so he won’t notice. He’s a big guy with a battered face and scars like I’ve never seen on a shifter before. His scent is large and in charge—a sign his bear is close to the surface, and super dominant.

Despite the tension in his giant body, he smells…safe. My fox leans into the smell, savors it. Either she’s clueless, or she’s reading him as someone who will protect us. I really, really hope it’s the latter.

“Is that why you took me?” I venture. “Because I was in the cage?”

He glares at the road. Yellow eyes, glowing with his bear. “I’m taking you somewhere to clean you up and let you heal and rest.”

I swallow. Not sanctioned then. Santiago won’t be pleased. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t blame me, or take out his displeasure on my ass.

My captor gives me a sharp look as if he knows my thoughts. “You know Simmon?”

“Yes,” I whisper, shrinking in my seat at the name of the vampire king. “I work with him. He wants me to look into your master.”

This doesn’t reassure me a bit, but I know better than to ask about the affairs of vampires. “Don’t you mean for him? You work for the vampire king?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said with.” Implying they were equals.

“For, with, what the fuck difference does it make?” He shrugs. I should be frightened out of my mind that I’ve annoyed him, but instead I want to giggle. I duck my head to hide my grin behind the thin fall of my hair.

If he notices my amusement, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he brushes a big hand over my hair. I still, letting him pet me.

“Red,” he says.

“What?” I never question dominants, but I can’t help it. His tone was deep and growly, with a touch of something more. Reverence. Or longing.

He doesn’t explain the ‘red’ comment. Instead he says, “I watched you last night.”

“Oh.” I scan my memory of the past night’s events. My fox helpfully supplies what she noticed—a dark, brown gold shape just outside of the spotlight, waiting in the shadows. A big, strong presence. Safe. “I remember you. Or at least, my fox does. She likes you.”

Something in his shoulders relaxes. “Good. I’m glad.” I want to ask where we’re going, but instead I yawn.

“Sleep, kit,” he says. I love that he calls me by the name for a baby fox. It

makes me feel babied. Protected. There’s a dominant push in his voice that’s impossible to disobey, even if I wanted to.

“Okay.” I snuggle against the seat. The last thing I see is his big hand checking to make sure the heat vents are on and directing them toward me, then dropping to tug the blanket tighter around me.

“Thank you,” I murmur. “Feels nice.”

His bear rumbles again. Go to sleep. It says. I’m going to take care of you.

Just relax and let go.

So I do.