Seventeen

"Hello?" I banged on the door with my fist. "Anyone there?"

Silence.

"Hello? The least you could do is give me food before you kill me in your sick game!"

I kept pounding, each hit making my already bruised knuckles sting worse, the skin splitting.

I could hear them out there. Two heartbeats, and their breathing.

Their footsteps were loud as I heard them pacing just beyond the door.

They were ignoring me on purpose.

'Are you seriously ignoring me?' Anger flared hot in my chest.

Fine. Two could play that game.

"That's it."

I took several steps back, gauged the distance, and kicked the door as hard as I could.

The wood shuddered violently. The frame groaned.

I kicked again. This time more harder.

BANG.

The impact vibrated up my leg, and I heard something crack—hopefully the door, not my ankle.

Again.

BANG.

"Open this door!" I shouted. "Now!"

Then, finally, I heard footsteps closing in heavy and unhurried.

The locks clicked. Once. Twice. Three times.

The door swung open.

Two guards stepped in, and immediately I knew this was a mistake.

The way they looked at me—slow, assessing, with eyes that lingered too long on my body in the dress—made my skin crawl.

I recognized the look. I'd seen it before on men who thought wolfless meant defenseless.

"Hi," I said, forcing myself to sound polite despite the way my heart was racing. "Can I get something to eat?"

I tried to smile. Failed. "I was knocking gently, but no one was answering. So I... escalated."

The words sounded ridiculous even to my own ears.

Neither of them moved. They just stared.

And then the bigger one—the one with the scar across his jaw and a name tag that read "Josh"—smiled.

It wasn't a nice smile.

Before I could even blink, his hand shot out and closed around my throat.

I didn't have time to scream.

He hauled me up and slammed me against the wall so hard I heard the wood crack behind me. Pain exploded through my back, my already-bruised ribs screaming in protest.

The air left my lungs in a rush. Stars burst behind my eyes.

His face was inches from mine now, his breath hot and rank, smelling like cigarettes and something worse.

His eyes—not on my face.

On my chest.

"Let... me... go..." I choked out, clawing desperately at his wrist.

His grip was iron. Unbreakable.

He didn't let go. Instead, his free hand started moving lower, grabbing at the thin cotton dress, fingers digging in.

Panic surged through me, cold and sharp. This wasn't just about intimidation.

This was something worse.

"Shut the hell up," he growled, pressing harder against my throat until black spots danced in my vision. "It won't take me a minute to rip your head off. But maybe I'll have some fun first."

My vision started going dark at the edges. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

'Breathe,' I told myself desperately through the haze. 'Calm down. Think. There has to be a way out.'

"You're... killing... me..." I managed to gasp out.

He just tightened his grip like it was a joke, like my life was a game to him.

I stared back, breathing shallow gasps of air (what little I could manage), waiting for an opening. Any opening.

The other guard—the one who'd stayed by the door—finally stepped forward, looking nervous.

"Don't kill her," he said, voice low and uncertain. "We need her for the games. Alpha will skin anyone who touches her before the Hunt."

Josh—the bastard choking me—finally eased up.

But only a fraction.

Not enough.

I sagged against the wall and did the only thing I could think of:

I went limp. Let my eyes roll back. Let my body go slack.

Pretended to pass out.

It was the best acting I'd ever done.

Josh's grip loosened immediately. "Shit. I think she's actually—"

The moment his hand left my throat, my eyes snapped open.

Instinct took over.

I remembered something, I had a weapon I could use. The scalpel I had seen below the bed.

I'd hidden it in my boot immediately I found it incase of a situation like this.

Now, as Josh lowered me slightly, I reached down with my free hand, fingers fumbling for the tiny weapon.

Then I got it.

I didn't think at all, I couldn't, I just acted.

I drove the scalpel up and into his thigh, twisting hard.

He roared—a sound that was more animal than human—and stumbled back, releasing me completely.

I didn't wait.

I lashed out with my foot, catching the other guard square in the chest with everything I had.

He went down hard, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

This was it. My window.

Two of them went down and I took the chance.

I ran as hell like my life depended on it, well yes my life really depended on it.