They dragged him back to the den, a ragged structure surrounded by scattered supplies. Shadows danced under the flickering firelight, revealing no sign of the mother bear. Nolan’s pulse kicked up another notch, fear for the wounded or trapped mother coursing through him.
The men bound his wrists with coarse rope. He could taste blood in his mouth, likely from a split lip. The cub whimpered, huddling near him. Nolan glanced around, but there was no one else to help. He was alone, at their mercy.