CHAPTER 3 — THE PRISONER WHO FIGHTS BACK

Isla pov

"Touch me again," I say to the guard blocking my path, my voice coming out low and deadly, "and I'll break your wrist, chains or no chains."

The beta freezes, his hand hovering inches from my shoulder where he was about to shove me back into my cell.

Confusion flickers across his face because omegas don't threaten, don't snarl, don't look at guards like they're already planning exactly where to strike.

"What did you just say?” he asks… disbelief coating every word.

I shouldn't have said anything, should have stayed quiet and compliant and small….

But something snapped the moment his fingers came too close, some instinct I thought I'd buried years ago, clawing its way to the surface.

"You heard me," I take a step forward instead of back…. watch his eyes widen.

The East Tower is exactly what it sounds like….a stone prison dressed up as guest quarters.

One narrow window that shows nothing but sky. A bed that's more wood than mattress.

Guards posted every twenty feet down the corridor.

I’ve been mapping exits and rotations for the last three hours, memorizing patterns, and counting blind spots.

This guard, broad-shouldered and scarred, blocks the stairwell I need to access, he's been watching me pace my cell with increasing irritation, like my refusal to cower offends him personally.

"Get back inside," he orders. He puts authority in his voice like that's supposed to make me obey.

"No," I say simply.

His hand shoots out fast, faster than most betas move, reaches for my throat to force compliance, but I'm faster, I catch his wrist mid-air and twist, use his momentum against him, three years of Kael's brutal training taking over before thought can catch up.

The guard gasps, tries to pull back but I've got leverage now, got his arm extended and vulnerable, one more inch of pressure and something breaks.

"I warned you," I say.

"What the fuck," he snarls, his other hand goes for the knife at his belt.

I move, release his wrist, and step inside his guard. My elbow drives into his solar plexus and he doubles over, wheezing, the knife clatters to the stone floor, I'm reaching for it when a voice cuts through the corridor like a blade.

"Enough."

One word, just one, but it slams into me with physical force, my body locks up, muscles going rigid, …my wolf whimpers and drops in submission, even though every logical part of my brain is screaming …to keep fighting, keep moving, finish this.

Dylan stands at the end of the corridor, torchlight throwing shadows across his face, making the scar through his eyebrow look deeper, darker, more dangerous.

"Alpha," the guard chokes out, still bent over, "she attacked me, she"

"I saw what happened," Dylan's voice stays calm, controlled, lethal, "you tried to touch what's mine."

The words hit me like ice water, what's mine, like I'm property, like I belong to him, my wolf preens at the claim and I hate her for it, hate myself for the way my body relaxed the moment he spoke.

"She's just an omega," the guard protests, straightening slowly, "I was putting her back in her cell, she refused orders."

"And you thought putting your hands on her was the appropriate response," Dylan moves closer, each step deliberate, "in my territory, under my protection."

The guard's face goes pale, "I didn't mean, I was just"

"Get out," Dylan says quietly, "report to Ronan, tell him you're reassigned to the southern border effective immediately."

"Alpha, please, I"

"Now."

The guard practically runs down the corridor, his footsteps echoing off stone until they fade completely, leaving me alone with Dylan and the adrenaline still racing through my veins.

"You moved like a trained fighter," Dylan observes, he's standing close now, too close, I can smell cedar and smoke and something wild I can't name, "fast, efficient, knew exactly where to strike."

"He was going to hurt me," I say, try to sound scared instead of furious, try to remember I'm supposed to be helpless.

"No," Dylan shakes his head, "you weren't defending yourself, you were about to kill him."

I don't answer, can't answer without confirming what he already knows.

"Go back inside," he says, but there's no command in it this time, no alpha compulsion, just instruction, "rest, you'll need it."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because tomorrow I'm going to push you," Dylan's eyes gleam in the torchlight, predatory and knowing, "and I want to see what breaks first, your cover or your control."

He walks away before I can respond, leaving me standing in the corridor with shaking hands and a wolf that won't stop whining for him to come back.

I retreat into my cell, close the door, lean against it and try to slow my breathing, try to understand what just happened, why my body obeyed him when it's never obeyed anyone, not even Kael.

Trust no one, feel nothing, survive everything.

The mantra feels hollow now, useless.

Hours pass, darkness falls thick and complete outside my window, I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling, count stones, count breaths, count all the ways this mission is already falling apart.

Then pain hits, sharp and sudden, spreading through my chest like fire, my wolf surges forward and I gasp, roll off the bed and hit the floor hard, hands splayed against cold stone.

My fingers start to shift, bones cracking and reforming, claws pushing through skin, silver fur sprouting along my knuckles, I bite down on my lip hard enough to taste blood, force the shift back, force everything back down into the cage where I've kept it locked for three years.

The partial shift stops but my eyes, I can feel them glowing, can see silver light reflecting off the stone floor, my bound wolf is waking and I don't know how to stop her.

Footsteps in the corridor, steady and unhurried, they stop outside my door.

"You're not an omega." Dylan's voice comes through the wood… quiet, certain, terrifying.

The lock clicks, the door swings open, he steps inside and closes it behind him, torchlight from the corridor cutting across his face before the door shuts and we're plunged into darkness broken only by the silver glow of my eyes.

"And I'm going to find out what you really are," he says, moving closer.

My wolf howls, trapped and desperate and reaching for him like he's salvation instead of damnation.

I'm so fucked.