Kidnapped by my mate by Annie Whipple
Chapter 57

GRAYSON 

My wolf was practically screaming, waking me up from a sleep full of nightmares. 

My head was pounding as he howled his displeasure, pushing me to wake up. 

I groaned, shifting my weight on the 

mattress. 

What the f**k is going on? Where am I? 

“Alpha,” I heard a voice say in the 

distance, “Alpha, wake up. 

وو 

I groaned again, wanting to push away the too–loud voice until I figured out what was happening. 

Why’s he yelling, anyway? 

Something was off. Everything around me felt softer, harder, sharper, more textured than ever before. I gripped the 

sheets beneath me, tightening my hands into fists around them. 

It was as if I could feel every thread in the fabric woven in the intricate design that made the sheet. There were strange scents in the air, too; new people that I had never met before were in the room, 

leaving traces of blood and woodsy cologne. 

Their potency overwhelmed me, in fact 

made me want to cover my nose. 

A small hand touched my shoulder. 

“Alpha Grayson, can you hear me?” a squeaky, feminine voice said. 

I ignored it. I didn’t like the voice. I didn’t like the touch. My wolf wouldn’t shut up: he kept repeating a name over and over again. I liked the name. I 

enjoyed the sound of it. I wanted to keep hearing it. 

Belle. Belle. Belle. Belle. Belle! BELLE! 

My eyes snapped open. 

“Belle,” I growled. 

Everything came rushing back in an 

instant. 

Azazel. The war. Kyle. Belle. Belle was hurt. I had to get to Belle. 

“Alpha,” a familiar voice said next to me, “thank God. I thought you’d had an aneurysm or something.” 

I propelled my b*dy off of the bed, moving faster than I’d expected, practically flying into the air. Then I composed myself. I hadn’t been in my b*dy for a while; perhaps I’d forgotten how to use it. My eyes found the speaker —Kyle—and searched the room. Multiple people here, none of them the one I wanted. 

My blind anger guided me as I grabbed Kyle by the collar. 

“Where the f**k is Belle?” I snarled. I barely recognized my own voice- it sounded lower, scary even. My wolf added to the gravel in my tone, but he wasn’t the only presence speaking. 

There was something I didn’t recognize sitting directly on my chest, hissing, turning my breath ragged and strained. Its soul was darker than my wolf’s, and just as powerful. 

“She’s safe,” Kyle replied immediately, “she’s okay.” 

That wasn’t good enough for me. 

“Where?” I asked again, lifting him off the ground. “Where is my mate?” 

Kyle swallowed harshly. I could hear his 

saliva travel down his throat and into his 

stomach. Strange. 

“I don’t know,” he said in genuine grief, “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” 

The loudest growl I’d ever heard came from my wolf, reverberating through my chest and out of my mouth. The floors and walls shook. I was close to shifting. Hair began to sprout from my arms. My muscles started to stretch. Something 

sharp pierced the inside of my lower l*p. 

“Now is not the time to shift,” a voice said behind me. “Control your wolf.” 

There was no mistaking the powerful wave that washed over me. 

It was the command of a Mortar. 

My muscles tightened as I waited for the order to take me over and force me to do its bidding. 

To my surprise, it never did. 

I paused. The vampire’s command hadn’t worked. 

And I could tell that no command 

coming from him or any Mortar would be 

successful anymore. How I could know this I wasn’t sure, but I felt complete mastery over my mind and b*dy—like a permanent mental block had been put up. 

Fury raced through me like fire. 

I swerved to meet the eyes of the Mortar. I was surprised not to see the face of Azazel. 

Instead I was looking at Zagan Mortar, king of the vampires. 

I had no idea what he was doing standing in my bedroom, but it didn’t matter–at at least not then. What mattered was that he had ordered me to rein in my wolf as if I hadn’t just spent months in his brother’s control. 

I moved so quickly I barely comprehended it. 

Soon I was in front of him, towering over him, though he didn’t so much as flinch. 

“Give me an order again,” I hissed, “and I will not hesitate to tear you limb from limb. King or no king.” 

Zagan seemed surprised but unperturbed. Under different circumstances I would have smiled. 

Vampires were fast, strong, and nimble, but nowhere near as powerful as werewolves. 

The only clan that could pose a threat to us were the royals, and only because the Mortars had the power to control others with their words. 

Without that power they were defenseless. 

For some reason, Zagan no longer had that power over me. 

Which meant–and we both knew it- that I could snap him like a twig right then and there if I so chose. 

Zagan nodded once, never dropping his gaze from mine. 

My wolf growled his approval and insisted we treat Azazel the same way 

next time we saw him. Only, with him, we wouldn’t hesitate to kill. 

I looked back at Kyle. 

“Belle,” I said again, trying to control my 

overflowing anger. 

My wolf was pushing me to shift, howling in my head. I would give him what he wanted, but not just yet. 

“Where did she go?” 

I remembered everything from the last two months. 

Every tear running down her beautiful face, every cruel word that she thought came from me. 

Azazel had made her think I wanted her 

for s*x and power; he had used her; he had laughed as she broke. And I had been stuck, trapped inside my own b*dy, my heart breaking with every bit hers did. 

While I stood here wasting time, she was thinking I had rejected her to be with another. 

But I was going to find her, and once I did I was going to make sure she understood the truth if it meant groveling on my knees for the rest of eternity. She had to know how much she meant to me, how I would die without her. 

Azazel would pay for what he did. He would die a torturous death by my hands, that I was sure of. He had hit Belle, 

marked her skin, touched her in ways 

only I was allowed to, hurt her because he 

had known it would weaken me. 

But now I was only fueled by the anger he’d put in me. 

I felt better and more balanced and centered than ever. It was almost strange how powerful I felt. If I hadn’t been planning to protect my mate with this newfound power, I might have cause for concern—but I was ready to kill. 

Kyle hesitated as he formulated an 

answer. 

It was then that I noticed just how big he had gotten. He looked stronger, more sinewy, huge beside the doorway. Even though I had been seeing him through a small lens while Azazel had had control of my b*dy, I knew he looked different from the last time. 

What happened to him? 

I gritted my teeth. 

“Kyle, you had better tell me what happened after she walked out of this room yesterday, or so help me God—‘ 

“She was with me,” broke in a new voice, 

“it’s my fault.” 

Both our heads snapped toward the 

doorway, where Elijah stood. 

I fixed my eyes on him. 

“What’s your fault?” 

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