𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫 || 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐖𝐨𝐧

Chapter 19

Wonwoo woke to a throbbing in his head, an orchestra so out of tune that it was just noise. He groaned as the surface under him jolted, throwing him around the dark space he was trapped in. Where the hell was he? He tried to call out, but his words were garbled by the thick cloth that had been forced between his lips. The world bumped and shook again, and he worked out where he was. In the trunk of someone’s car.

The events at the orchard came back to him in a rush, and he almost whimpered in fear. Had his team come for him? Come to get their revenge for what he’d done during that last act of desperation?

He tried to move, twisting around, but all that served to do was tell him how well he’d been trussed up. His hands were bound securely behind his back, his ankles tied together just loosely enough to give him some slack to move his legs. His eyes were uncovered, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign. There was an awful taste in his mouth and a painful dryness that told him he’d been unconscious for a while. He tried to orientate himself, work out which end of the trunk was which, and then he shuffled toward the back of the car, hoping for a glimpse of something. It took forever to move, inching along painfully, his muscles protesting the whole time. He considered shifting, but whatever drug was coursing through his body had dampened down his shifter animal. That, and his tight bonds might cause problems if he risked it. His progress toward the opening of the trunk was lost when the car braked suddenly, sending him sliding forward, the carpet dragging painfully across his hands and the exposed skin of his legs. His cry was muffled by the gag as the throbbing in his head peaked. He wasn’t usually one for crying, but he felt helpless and in pain, his fear at maximum. A few tears leaked from the sides of his eyes and trailed into his hair.

The trunk was freezing, the cold wrapping around him like an icy shroud. It made him shiver. He wished for a blanket, a coat, anything to chase away the chill that sank deep under his skin. He closed his eyes and did his best to block out the world and the constant assault on his senses.

When the trunk opened above him, he came to with a jolt. As he stared up in panic, blinded by the light, terror rose up inside him. What were they going to do to him? He let out a muffled shout when something covered his face, throwing his world back into darkness.

“I thought I told you to blindfold him,” a voice said sharply.

“He’s supposed to be out for hours yet,” another voice grumbled. “How could I have known he’d be awake already?”

“Maybe because you sprayed half that drug into the air instead of his neck,” the first man argued.

Despite the terror of his circumstances, Wonwoo found himself calming at the sound of their voices. Whoever these men were, they were strangers. Not his team, not people he knew. Whatever this was, it was nothing to do with him.

Somehow, that made it easier. He was a pawn in someone else’s game. It meant he could play a role. He didn’t have to be Wonwoo, army Anchor on the run. He could be a terrified, pitiful omega who didn’t know what was happening and just wanted to go home. If he played his cards right, they’d swallow it hook, line, and sinker. They’d underestimate him, and he’d exploit that whatever way he could.

Rough hands lifted him from the trunk, and he was thrown over a shoulder and carried away. He stayed still and quiet, the shock of the cold air helping. He was down to sound and smell, the two senses that he relied on in shifter form. They never quite passed muster when he was human. There wasn’t much by way of noise. Not the hum of traffic or the bustling of a city. Just… was that an owl?

Okay, so he was somewhere remote, out of the way. He wished he could see. Even a peek at the sky would tell him something. As for smell, his own unwashed body was easy to ignore, but the scents of the men with him weren’t.