“Is that really necessary?” I asked stiffly.
His amber eyes dulled. “Have you suddenly developed a gift to see in the dark?”
I huffed, giving in despite my inner protests. Down in the tunnels, the air was damp. I had to take deep, calculated breaths to familiarize my nose with mildew and mold. I clungto Marcus’s muscular forearm, counting each step to distract myself from our destination.
“The moment you’ve had enough, you say the word, and I’ll get you out of there. Okay?”
I was biting my bottom lip so hard, I thought I’d draw blood.
“Joanna,” Marcus enunciated, “did you hear me?”
I squeezed his arm. “Sorry. Yes.”
Marcus came to a halt, swinging his body in a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree rotation—his eyes glowing in the dark. “I’m serious,” he said softly. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t protect you… And it may be too late to save her.”
I lowered my head. “I don’t understand,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “Save—” I gasped in surprise, my breath catching in my throat when Marcus’s hands shot to my shoulders.
“I’m warning you for the sake of your sister, Joanna.” He tightened his grip. “Do you understand now?”
“Are we ready?” Maya asked from ahead of us.
I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the reunion.
A faint spill of light accompanied the groan of heavy metal. I caught sight of Maya’s silhouette before she disappeared through the open door. The entrance led to a walkway divided into three paths. All three were lit with torches along the walls.
“What is this?” I whispered, staring at the shadows dancing on the stone. These cells were nothing like the one Marcus held Ethan in.
“Not all prisoners are created equal,” Marcus replied bluntly, nodding at Maya.
Maya opened the cell door straight ahead.
“I remember you,” a familiar voice declared. “Are you bad cop?”
My heart thrummed in my chest, loud and unrelenting. Marcus placed his hand on my back but allowed me to take my time inching forward.
When she saw me, the audible gasp that left Latoya’s mouth chilled my blood. Her wide orange eyes bore into my tenuous armor and forced me to suppress my scream.
“Joey,” the werewolf whispered in disbelief. The chain around her leg pulled taut, stopping her in her tracks. She glared at Marcus. “How much of a threat can I be with both you and your bodyguard in here?” she yelled. “Will you please take this off?”
“No,” Marcus declared.
“Are you serious—”
“I thought you were dead, Latoya,” I interrupted, finally finding my voice.
Her shoulders slumped. We only ever used our given names when we were mad at each other, the way mom and dad did. “I guess I should be happy you’re talking to me at all, huh?” She sighed, flinging her arms in the air. “What do you want me to say, Joey?”
I bristled. “You’re a fucking were—”
“And you’re a hunter who’s fucking a werewolf, sis,” she snapped. “I can smell him all over you. If you’re going to shit talk me, do it because I’m a horrible sister. Do it because I left you… but don’t you fucking do it because of a superiority complex.”
“Take a guess as to why I became a damn hunter, Latoya.”
Marcus tensed beside me. “Joanna—”
I held up my hand, silently begging him to let me work through this on my own. “Did you know a beta named Ethan King?” I asked my sister.
Latoya pulled at her locs. They’d grown a lot in five years. “No.”
