CHAPTER 7: THE GAMBLE

I turned around slowly, every movement deliberate and measured as I finally faced her in the dim light of the suite.

She was standing right there in the pale moonlight filtering through the window, framed entirely in my oversized white shirt, shaking so violently that her knees knocked together beneath the wet linen. Her hazelnut eyes were wide, completely drowned in pure, unadulterated fear as she stared up at me, waiting for the axe to fall.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked, my voice dropping into a low, dangerous rasp that filled the quiet room and vibrated in the air between us.

"No," she breathed out, her pale lips trembling as she held my gaze despite her terror.

"Are you so utterly desperate that you'd throw yourself at the mercy of a complete stranger you found hiding in the dark?"

Now she'll cower, I thought, watching her intensely for the inevitable sign of weak submission that every desperate she-wolf displayed when cornered. They always break under pressure.

She hesitated, her heavy gaze dropping down toward the dark, polished floorboards between us. A heavy, agonizing second ticked past in complete silence, broken only by the muffled shouting outside in the corridor. Then, slowly, her chin came up. She lifted her head, locking her eyes directly onto mine with an unexpected, sudden burning intensity that took me completely off guard.

"I don't know you," she said, her voice shaking noticeably, yet carrying a surprising, sharp edge of pure steel beneath the tremor. "And I don't know what you want from me. But I'm willing to gamble. I think you're better than the man standing outside that door."

My chest went completely still, the air catching in my lungs. "You don't know that. I could be worse than anything you're running from."

"No," she whispered back, her small hands clutching tightly at her thighs to hide their violent trembling. "You gave me a towel. You didn't hurt me when I broke in. But I know what he is. I know what they've planned for me."

I didn't move an inch. I had fully expected her to shrink back into the shadows, to collapse into hysterical tears like every other sheltered she-wolf under pressure, but she stood her ground firmly, her chin held defiantly high despite the heavy scent of terror bleeding off her skin.

"I don't do anything I won't benefit from," I stated flatly, setting my terms with cold, unyielding precision to test her resolve. "Nothing in this world is free, least of all my protection."

"Then what do you want?" she asked, her rapid breathing quickening even further as the footsteps outside grew louder.

"Think carefully about what you're offering in exchange for your life," I warned her, my tone dropping into a quiet, lethal register that would have sent lesser wolves fleeing in panic.

Heavy footsteps came to a dead stop directly outside my suite door. The metallic, static squawk of a guard's handheld radio crackled sharply through the thin wood paneling, broadcasting Tristan's voice demanding updates on the search.

Raw, overwhelming panic flashed across her delicate face, threatening to break her remaining composure.

"Take me," she whispered desperately, taking a small, reckless step closer to my space, abandoning all caution. "Do whatever you want with me, just don't let them take me back."

I froze in place, the words hanging heavy in the air. Something shifted quietly and irrevocably inside my chest. A dark, cynical smirk touched the corner of my mouth—I was stunned, deeply intrigued, and thoroughly annoyed at myself for feeling either toward a prisoner of Victor's household.

A heavy, deliberate knock landed hard against the surface of my door, rattling the frame and shattering the fragile silence.