Eighteen

I ran like hell, not looking back, my bare feet slapping against cold concrete.

My heartbeat pounded louder than my footsteps. All I wanted was an exit—a door, a window, a goddamn hole in the floor.

The hallway stretched ahead, unfamiliar and maze-like. Left or right? I chose right and kept running.

I turned the corner and stopped dead. My break was really sharp.

Someone was there, walking straight toward me.

He had a tall, slim figure with dark long hair putting on the same leather jacket style as the others but something about him was different.

He looked less rough and more calm unlike Aiden. They were opposite of each other.

Our eyes met—his were warm brown, surprised but not hostile.

"You're supposed to be in your room," he said slowly, his voice actually sounding... concerned? "Just how did you escape?"

Yeah, great question. Like I was about to stop for small talk.

I spun to run the other way and froze again.

Josh and the other guard were already back on their feet, blood was dripping from Josh's leg where I'd stabbed him. Their eyes had changed to wolf eyes now, glowing amber in the dim hallway.

It was as if they were hunting their prey.

"Oh God Perfect," I muttered sarcastically under my breath. "Just what I needed—round two."

Three werewolves against me alone.

I had no wolf form or way to transform. No backup. No miracle in sight.

I was done for, yet giving up was not part of the plan.

The man in front—I'd learn later his name was Nathan, he raised his hands peacefully, palms out.

"Easy girl” He said as he saw me take on a fighting stance. “Nobody needs to get hurt here. You just need to get back to your room. That's all."

"No," I snapped, brandishing the scalpel even though it looked pathetic and tiny compared to their claws. "I need to leave. Whatever sick game you people are planning, I'm not part of it."

He stepped forward carefully. I stepped back, maintaining distance.

"We saved your life," he reminded me gently, like that was supposed to make everything okay.

"And I said thank you," I hissed. "But saving me doesn't mean you own me."

The air grew heavy and tense.

Nathan's eyes flicked to the tiny blade in my hand, then back to my face.

He almost smiled. Almost.

"Put it down," he said, voice too calm, too measured. "You're going to hurt yourself. And nobody's hurt you yet—have they?"

My jaw tightened. "Your friend just tried to strangle me half to death and touch me all—" I didn't finish the sentence, but the implication hung in the air.

Nathan's expression darkened immediately. He turned sharply to the men behind me.

This was the first time I was seeing him frown in anger.

"I gave specific orders," he said, and his voice dropped to something dangerous. Something that made even me flinch. "No one lays a hand on her. Who did it?"

Silence filled the air.

The hallway felt like it was holding its breath.

Then Josh—cocky, stupid, violent Josh—stepped forward, chest puffed out. "I did. She was trying to escape. I had to restrain her."

"Restrain." Nathan's voice was becoming flat and as cold as ice.

"Show me your leg, Josh." Seeing that there was a trail of blood behind.

Josh hesitated.

"Now."

Josh lifted his pant leg with obvious reluctance, revealing the bleeding puncture wound where I'd driven the scalpel in.

Nathan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "She stabbed you because you were restraining her? That's your story?"

"She's feral—dangerous—"

"Did. You. Touch. Her." Nathan's voice was quiet now. The word he spoke wasn't specific but everyone understood it.

But Josh didn't answer.

That was enough to answer and confirm his question.

“You are going to answer to me for that.”

Nathan's jaw clenched visibly, a muscle ticking. He turned back to me, and when he spoke, his voice was softer. "Come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe—"

"Safe?" I laughed, and it sounded a little unhinged even to me, echoing off the

concrete walls. "Nothing about this place is safe. I'm leaving."

"You can't."

"Watch me."