Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Cass 

Pack members watch me as I fill a bucket with water. I have chains on my ankles as if I were some dangerous prisoner. I’m sure the Luna is trying to humiliate me, but I feel nothing. I’m used to this kind of treatment.

A few small children stand in the corner watching me, and they start mocking me the way kids do. I look at them and growl, baring my fangs. They scream and run off.

I admit, it brought me joy. Those little shits are going to grow up just as bad as their parents.

As I keep filling the bucket, I do feel a bit more like myself again. I was able to bathe at the pack hospital, and Lauren brought me clean clothes: worn jean overalls, sneakers, and a colorful striped fitted shirt underneath. My mane is tied back in a ponytail, which makes cleaning easier since it doesn’t get in the way.

When the bucket is full, I lift it and carry it back to the basement dungeon. The guard at the door doesn’t follow me; he stays outside while I go down the stairs. This time, I take the lantern from the wall with me. When I reach the cells, I hang it up, letting the light spill across the room. The men are all covered in dirt.

“Damn! Now I can see everyone’s ugly faces,” Dash says.

“Shut up, asshole,” Quinn growls.

Dash laughs, then looks at me. “Except for your face, Curls. You don’t fall under the ugly category.”

I ignore him. All he’s done is flirt, and I’m starting to think that’s just who he is, a shameless flirt.

I’m not used to attention from men, so I got a little excited when he complimented me before. And he was sweet, not slimy like Niles. But I have a grip now. I know better than to get smitten that easily.

I lift the bucket and throw the water across the floor, letting it run toward the drain. Then I grab the broom and start scrubbing.

“So this is your punishment?” Dash asks.

“Yeah. It’s not so bad.”

“She talks! Oh, so you do like hanging out with us.”

I roll my eyes.

“Come on, Curls, admit it. You like us.”

“It’s Cass. And I don’t kid myself. I know you guys are dangerous. But we’re separated by bars, so it doesn’t hurt to be…friendly.”

“Smart girl,” Quinn mutters.

“Nah, you like us,” Dash says. “And what’s that about Cass?”

“It’s my name,” I reply.

“Cass?” the green‑eyed man asks quietly, surprising me. He tilts his head slightly, but when I look at him, he goes right back to being stoic. “Is that short for something?”

I stop scrubbing and stare at him before slowly nodding. “Cassiopeia.”

He closes his eyes and nods once. “I see.”

“That’s a curious name,” Dash says.

“Ugly, you mean,” I mutter.

“No. I didn’t say that.”

“But you thought it,” I whisper to myself. Then I change the subject, asking what’s been bothering me. “Anyway, how come you guys are so calm?”

“Huh?” Dash acts clueless.

“You’re in cages, and at any moment your life could end. But none of you seem worried.”

“Oh nooo, we are trapped,” Dash says dramatically.

I narrow my eyes. “See? You’re playing games.”

He laughs. “We’re used to this kind of treatment. Don’t worry about us, Curls. If we die, we die. That’s it. It’s not like we have anyone to cry over us.”

I suddenly feel bad for them. It seems their pack doesn’t treat them well either. Not that it’s surprising coming from the Dark Fang Pack.

Are we all just pawns of tyrant men?

I suddenly have to stop. I close my eyes and grip the broom handle as pain wells up in my chest again.

Fucking Ezra.

I scream in my head. Every time a surge of pain hits, I hold the broom tighter and scrub the floor harder.

“Are you okay, Curls? You look like you’re about to cry,” Dash says.

“I’m fine!” I snap.

“Damn…okay.”

“Sorry,” I whisper.

Green Eyes watches me with that unreadable expression. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but his intensity makes me shiver…not necessarily in a bad way.

After what feels like forever, the pain finally fades. I’m tired, but I keep working.

I’m focused on scrubbing when I realize it’s gone quiet. The only thing I hear now is whispering. I look back and see the men huddled at the bars, talking.

“Are you sure?” Quinn whispers.

Green Eyes nods. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“So that means—”

“No. We wait,” Green Eyes says.

“What? Why?”

“What are you all doing?” I ask, cutting in.

“We’re debating who has dibs on you,” Dash says.

“What?!”

“You idiot. You sound like a pervert,” the guy next to Quinn—Peter—says.

Dash shakes his head quickly. “Oh shit. No, not like that!”

I squint at them. “You’re disgusting,” I huff.

Dash shakes his head and waves his hands. “No! That’s not what I meant! I don't think before I speak! Curls, you gotta believe me. I’m a decent man, promise.”

“You!” someone suddenly shouts from behind me, making me jump.

I turn to see four guards standing there.

“Move,” one of them says. I quickly step aside and let them pass. They stop in front of Dash’s and the green‑eyed man’s cell.

“You. Out.” They yank the green‑eyed man to his feet, and only then do I realize how massive he is. It was hard to tell when he was always sitting. This man is an Alpha. I’m certain of it. 

I look away quickly as he’s exposed to everyone. He doesn’t say anything; he just complies. I feel bad and scared for him as I watch the guards take him away.

“Shit,” Dash whispers. For the first time since I met them, he actually looks worried.

“Will he be okay?” I mutter.

Dash’s expression shifts, and he smiles again. “Of course. That man can take anything.”

“So you’ve known each other long?” I ask as I keep scrubbing the floors.

“Very long.”

Even though I’m curious, I stop asking questions. I don’t want them thinking I’m here to spy on them.

As the day goes on, I’m sent up to the kitchen to bring food for the prisoners. Matilda hands me the trays. She glances at my shackles with disapproval, but she’s smart enough not to comment.

As I’m walking across the field toward the dungeon, Ezra passes by. The moment he sees me, he stops. “Where the hell have you been?” he asks.

I scowl at him. “What do you mean, where have I been?” I glance down at my shackles to see if they’re visible, and they are.

He follows my gaze. “They still have you in the dungeons?”

“Yup.” I start walking away, not bothering to hide how I feel about him.

The mate bond is supposed to be something beautiful. A soul connection. Something other beings never get to experience. You crave your mate emotionally and physically. And I can’t lie, at the beginning, I did crave him, even if I didn’t like him and resented him for how he’d treated me all these years. But now? I despise him. You can only hurt someone so much before they go numb and start to feel disgust instead of longing. That’s where I am. I know he’ll never be the nurturing mate I wish I had. He’ll always hurt me, and even if he tried to change, the damage is already done.

“Maybe if you grovel, I can talk to Mom and get you out of there,” he says.

I turn to him, confused. “What? Why? Why would you—you know what, no. No thanks.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” I keep walking.

“But—”

I’m honestly surprised he even offered. I turn back to him, still confused. “But what?”

“I just thought that now that I’m back, I’d see more of you…to torture you some more.” He gives a wicked smile.

“You already do enough of that, even when you were far away. So no thanks. I’d rather stay in the dungeon.” I turn fully toward him. “Or you can just reject me.”

“No,” he says it instantly.

I’m not surprised. I turn away and rush off. When I get back to the cells, I hand out the food trays.

“Thanks, Curls,” Dash says.

“Hey, what happened to the rogue?” I ask, noticing his cell is empty.

“They came and got him a few minutes ago," Peter says.

“I don’t think he’s coming back,” Quinn says quietly.

“Why do you say that?”

“He told us he’d been here a while. So he was probably not much use to them anymore.”

I’m not sure if that’s true, so I leave his tray in his cell just in case. Then I set the green‑eyed man’s tray on the table outside the cells and head to my own cell to eat. Unlike the others, I’m not locked in. The guards know I’m not going anywhere.

We hear the guards come down again, but they don’t have Green Eyes with them. Instead, they stop in front of my cell. “Come.”

“What?”

“By the Luna’s orders, you are instructed to come with us.”

I take a deep breath and follow them. They lead me out of the dungeon and, to my surprise, turn toward the woods behind it. After a few minutes, we arrive at a bunker.

I know this place. As children, we were told never to come near it. It’s the interrogation room.

The guards open the door, and the smell that hits me makes my stomach twist.