Chapter 2 Crashing The Gang's Party

Dora's POV

"Shit, I'm fucked." I blurted as I rounded the corner, coming face to face with a hulking bouncer. 

He had to be over six and a half feet tall, with bulging muscles straining against his black t-shirt. But it wasn't his size that made my heart skip a beat - it was the large silver fang dangling from a heavy chain around his neck. 

I had heard whispers about the notorious Silver Fang gang that controlled this part of the city. They were a secretive bunch, identifiable only by the fang accessories and tattoos that marked their allegiance. I had never laid eyes on one before tonight. Just my luck to stumble across one now.

"I...I was just..." I stammered, taking a few steps back. The instinct to flee was overpowering my craving for warmth and a hot meal. Nothing good could come from engaging with a gang member. 

I pivoted to hurry away, but collided with a solid wall of muscle. 

"Oww," I groaned, looking up, I saw another hulking figure, this one with a gleaming silver fang earring in one ear. His piercing green eyes looked me over with interest.

"Hey there, sweet thing, whatcha doing out here all alone?" His voice was deep and smooth. Objectively, he was an attractive man, with sharp features and long dark hair pulled back from his face. But the fang accessory meant he was dangerous. Membership in the Silver Fangs was for life - the only way out was death. Or so I heard.

When I didn't immediately reply, he grabbed my arm in a firm grip. "Why don't you come inside and get warmed up?" 

It wasn't a question but a command. Unease rippled through me, but I was also desperate to escape the cold rain. I nodded mutely and let him usher me into the building, my instincts screaming both for me to run and to get out of the downpour.

Nerves tangled my stomach into knots as I followed him inside. The heat hit me like a wall, thawing my icy skin. My eyes watered as they adjusted to the light. I took in the tables packed with men and women, nearly all adorned with fangs. 

"Of all the parties to crash, I just had to pick the Silver Fang hangout." Unease gnawed at my gut.

Inside was bustling with activity. People crowded the tables and booths, while servers wove expertly through the throngs. My escort steered me towards a severe-looking woman I took to be a waitress or manager. He called out to the tough-looking woman with a pixie cut,

 "Hey Rochelle, look what I found!" 

Rochelle gave me a scrutinizing once over, her eyes lingering on my threadbare, drenched clothing. "She's got a mate yet, Derek?" 

"Fresh meat for the pot, sweetheart," he said with a wink. "Take care of her."

The woman gave me a scrutinizing once over, eyes narrowed. "Claimed or unclaimed?"

 Derek laughed. "Unclaimed of course. This little dove looks ready to bolt at the first chance." 

He leaned in close to the woman and exchanged a few hushed words I couldn't make out. With a sharp nod, she dismissed him and turned her shrewd gaze back to me.

"You have a mate here, girl?"

I shook my head mutely, still confused and overwhelmed by it all. The woman clicked her tongue in clear annoyance.

"Follow me," she ordered brusquely, already striding away. I scrambled to obey, not wanting to lose sight of the one semi-friendly face here. 

She led me to a small bathroom and thrust a bundle of clothes at me. 

"Get changed and cleaned up. Can't have you tracking mud and rain everywhere." Her tone made it clear she thought I already sullied her pristine space by just existing.

I hesitated, but she had already stepped out and closed the door sharply behind her. I gazed down at the ivory silk dress clutched in my hands. It looked expensive, and far too fine for the likes of me. But I was desperate to get out of my soaked, grimy rags. 

Once under the hot spray of the shower, I scrubbed my filthy skin and hair until I nearly felt human again. I squeezed the water from my long, dark tresses and slipped the silky dress over my head. The fabric clung softly to my subtle curves. 

"Finally warm again."

Catching my reflection in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize the doe-eyed girl staring back at me. The gleaming white dress complimented my dusky complexion, making me appear almost ethereal. A far cry from the bedraggled street rat who had stumbled in from the rain.

Stepping back into the hall, I murmured my thanks. The woman merely pursed her lips. Her sharp eyes assessed me critically. 

"No mate, no pack, no family?" she questioned. I shook my head, shoulders hunching under her scrutiny. She was suspicious, but I had nothing to hide.

"Just looking to get out of the cold for a bit," I mumbled. "I can work, earn my keep."

"You're not marked so I know you don't belong to any of the packs here. Just looking for food and shelter?"

I nodded mutely. Her eyes narrowed further.

"Not much of a talker are you? No matter. I need to know if you're spoken for or if you're...available. So I'll ask again - you belong to any of the males here?"

"No," I managed to rasp out. My voice sounded hoarse and creaky from disuse.

She studied me a moment longer before handing me a silver badge engraved with a wolf emblem I saw other women wearing. "Wear this. It means you're unclaimed. There's hot food in the dining hall. Go get yourself a plate and take a seat with the other girls."

"Other girls?" I glanced around curiously as I followed her instructions, accepting a loaded plate from the buffet table. The dining hall was filled with long tables, each one populated exclusively by young women around my age. 

They all wore similar white dresses and badges. They shot me curious looks but said nothing. We all looked oddly similar - bedraggled and wary, wearing borrowed finery like children playing dress up. 

My stomach growled loudly as plates of hot food were delivered. I devoured every morsel hastily, not knowing when I might eat again. 

"Even if I die tonight, at least, I won't be hungry."

I couldn't help but notice the strange mix of clientele around me. Along with regular folk were those I now recognized as Silver Fang gang members, with their fang markings and wolf insignia. Others wore elaborate wolf masks that obscured their faces. Some roamed the room freely while others stayed close to particular women wearing collars and leashes. 

"An initiation rite? Some cult ritual?" Unease stirred in my gut.

As I sat there contemplating my fate, I felt eyes on me. Glancing up, I noticed two men at a nearby table staring in my direction. Their gazes lingered on me in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Pretty little cub." One mouthed.

Suddenly self-conscious, I looked down, letting my limp hair form a curtain between us. 

When I had arrived, cold and soaked to the bone, my bedraggled appearance must have hidden my looks. But now, cleaned up with a full stomach warming me from the inside out, my youthful beauty shone through. 

It dawned on me that, despite my wariness over this place, I had blindly accepted their help, letting them clean me up and clothe me nicely. 

Before I could dwell on it further, an eerie silence descended on the room. The scrape of chairs and clatter of dishes ceased. All eyes turned towards the front of the room. The hair on my arms prickled. Something was happening.

A mournful, bone-chilling howl echoed through the hall, raising the hairs on my neck. The assembled crowd threw back their heads, joining the cacophonous howling in a frenzied chorus. 

"What have I gotten myself into?"