A low growl filters through the stone—barely audible but unmistakably furious. The guards don’t seem to notice, too focused on me.
“Ready to answer our questions?”
I drag my head up, blood on my lips and fire in my lungs.
“I’m going to count every mark you put on me,” I rasp, voice low and steady. “Every single one. And when I get free, I’m going to return them tenfold.”
Jim nods to Bob, who produces a small silver blade. The metal gleams with an unnatural light, clearly old silver.
This doesn’t look good.
Bob presses the blade against my forearm. The metal burns, searing flesh.
I don’t flinch. Don’t blink. Just stare directly into Jim’s eyes, letting him see the promise of death I’m making.
You’re dead wolves walking.
“We know about the safe room beneath the main den,” Jim says, watching my face closely. “But there are safe houses, aren’t there? Locations only the alpha and his most inner circle know about. Tell us where they are.”
The safe room’s existence wasn’t widely known even within the pack. The depth of Zella’s betrayal hits me anew.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I say through gritted teeth as Bob digs the blade deeper. “I’m just the muscle. They don’t tell me the important stuff.”
“We both know that’s not true,” Jim replies. “Ryker trusts you. You’re his Beta. So I’ll ask again—where are the safe houses?”
Bob twists the blade, and I can’t stop the hiss of pain that escapes me.
“Look at Bobby go,” I manage, forcing a smile. “Someone’s eager to impress Daddy Jim. Got a performance review coming up?”
Bob’s face contorts with rage. He moves the blade to my neck, just below my jaw.
“I’m going to enjoy breaking you,” he whispers.
“Careful,” Jim cautions. He turns toward the shadows. “Prudence. Come forward.”
There’s a howl from next door, but the guards ignore it as the small woman takes a hesitant step into the light. Her trembling is pronounced now, and up close I can see the hollows beneath her eyes, the unnatural thinness of her frame. She looks terrified.
“No,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Please. Not yet. I need—I need to prepare.”
“You’ve had enough time,” Jim says coldly. “Do your job.”
Bob grabs my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. “Look at her, Prudence. Do what you do best.”
Prudence’s strange, colorless eyes meet mine reluctantly. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
Then her eyes begin to change. Her pupils expand until they swallow the irises entirely, turning her gaze into bottomless black pits. “She fears loss,” Prudence says, her voice resonating oddly in the small cell. “She’s lost before. Parents. Friends.” A pause. “She fears it will happen again.”
A chill races up my spine.What magic is this?
I force a laugh. “Nah, babe. My only fear is missing my hair appointment next week. Gotta keep the split ends at bay.”
They all ignore me.
“Show her,” Jim commands.
“Please don’t make me,” Prudence pleads, her black eyes never leaving mine. “It’s too cruel.”
“Show her,” Jim repeats, his tone brooking no argument.
