THE BAIT AND THE TRAP

Sydney Hale woke up, and her first thought was that her head was literally about to explode.

She wasn't in her bed. She wasn't on her sofa. She wasn't even in her apartment. The last thing she remembered was walking home from work, feeling like someone was following her, clamped a hand over her mouth from behind, and lifted her off the ground like she weighed nothing.and then—nothing. Total black-out.

Now, she was slumped on a cold, stone floor that felt like it was made of actual ice. Her wrists were screaming in pain, bound behind her back with heavy-duty zip ties that bit into her skin every time she moved.

She woke up moving.

That was the first terrifying thing. The second was that her hands were tied behind her back, cutting into her wrists. The third was the smell.

Dirt. Trees. Smoke. Blood. Not city air. Sydney jerked awake fully and gasped.

“Hey!” she shouted. “Let me go!”

Her voice echoed, swallowed by the night.

He grabbed her arm and hauled her up. Sydney stumbled, her legs feeling like they were made of cooked spaghetti. He dragged her out of the room and down a long, echoing hallway. Men were standing guard everywhere—huge, intimidating guys who smelled like pine needles and raw aggression. Every single one of them watched her like she was a snack they weren't allowed to eat yet.

“Please!” she screamed. “What do you want from me?”

No response. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. This was real.

This wasn’t a prank. Not a mistake. She tried to fight again. Elbowed backward. Kicked blindly. One of them growled. Not yelled. Growled.

Her stomach dropped. They stopped suddenly. A sharp pain hit the back of her legs, forcing her to her knees. “Stay quiet,” someone said calmly. “If you scream, it will get worse.”   That was when she knew.

They were not bluffing. They shoved a hood over her head. Darkness again.  Time disappeared.

When the hood was finally ripped off, she was standing in the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded her. Tall. Old. Watching.

Torches burned in a wide circle, lighting up a clearing that felt wrong. Too organized. Too intentional.

Sydney’s chest rose and fell fast.

“Where am I?” she demanded. No one answered. Then he stepped forward.

The Alpha.

She felt him before she really saw him. A pressure in the air. Like gravity had shifted just for him.

He was massive. Not just tall, but powerful in a way that didn’t come from muscle alone. His eyes were sharp and ancient, like he had seen too much and cared too little.

He was older, but he looked like he could bench-press a truck. His hair was salt-and-pepper, his face was a map of scars, and his eyes were the coldest things Sydney had ever seen. This was Victor. Liam’s father. The Alpha.

"So," Victor said, his voice echoing like thunder. "This is the human who made my son forget his bloodline. I thought she’d be... more impressive."

"What stupid son"? She asked. "I don't know you people".

"Liam, my son, your supposed lover is my son, the heir to the throne", Victor growled.

"Is that why you're shouting and pouring saliva all over me?" said Sydney.

"What do you mean Liam is your son, he is completely human, he can't be your son", she said, looking startled.

"He left, he ran away from home, he ran away from responsibilities, I want him back!" said the Alpha.

Victor stood up, and the power rolling off him made Sydney want to curl into a ball. He walked toward her, each step slow and deliberate. As he reached out a hand to tilt her head up, his sleeve shifted.

That’s when she saw it.

On his inner forearm, there was a brand. A jagged, circular mark with three deep slashes carved through the middle.

The room suddenly felt like it was spinning. The sound of Victor’s voice faded into a high-pitched ring. Sydney wasn't in the Stone Pack territory anymore. She was ten years old again.

She was hiding in the mud under a porch, her hands clamped over her mouth so hard her gums bled. She remembered the rain. She remembered the screaming. And she remembered the man who had stood over her father’s body, shifting from a massive, terrifying wolf back into a human.

As he’d wiped her father’s blood off his face, she’d seen it. On his arm. That exact same mark.

The man who had murdered her father wasn't just a monster from her nightmares. He was standing right in front of her.

"You," Sydney whispered, the words coming out as a jagged breath.

Victor narrowed his eyes, a cruel, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "You recognize the mark? How poetic. I usually don't leave witnesses, but it seems you were a very quiet little mouse that night in the woods."

"You killed him," Sydney screamed, the fear in her chest exploding into a white-hot rage. She lunged forward, but Aiden caught her, pinning her arms to her sides. "You murdered my father! He didn't even know you! He was just trying to get us home!"

"He was a human in a wolf's territory," Victor said, his voice cold and indifferent. "He was a trespasser. In our world, Sydney, the weak get crushed. It’s not personal. It’s just nature."

Sydney felt a sob break through her throat, but it wasn't just about the murder. It was about Liam.

Every time she’d felt safe with him. Every cake he’d baked. Every time they’d cuddled on the sofa watching movies. He was the son of a murderer. He was part of the family that had ripped her life apart.

"Is that why he left?" Sydney spat, tears streaming down her face. "Because he couldn't stand looking at a monster every day? Because he knew his father was a pathetic, soulless killer?"

Victor’s eyes flared a blinding, glowing gold. The air in the room grew cold enough to see her breath. "Liam left because he is delusional. He thinks he can play human. He thinks he can love someone like you. But he’s going to learn that blood always wins."

Victor looked at Aiden. "Take her to the lower cells. The silver-lined ones. And make sure the camera feed is active. I want Liam to see exactly what happens when he brings a human into our business."

"You’re using me," Sydney said, her voice trembling but her eyes hard. "You’re using me to get to him."

"Of course," Victor said, turning his back on her. "You’re the perfect leverage. He’ll come for you. And when he does, I’ll break him. And then, I’ll let him watch while I finish what I started with your family."

Aiden didn't wait. He dragged Sydney out of the hall and down into the bowels of the building. The walls here were damp and smelled like rot. He threw her into a small, stone cell with bars that shimmered with a weird, metallic light—silver.

"Don't bother trying to break those," Aiden muttered, locking the door. "They’re designed for wolves, but they’ll hold a human just fine."

Sydney collapsed onto the floor as the heavy iron door slammed shut. She sat in the dark, the zip ties still digging into her wrists, listening to the sound of the forest outside.

She had spent her whole life trying to outrun her trauma, only to be kidnapped by the source of it. She was trapped in a literal horror movie, and the hero who was coming to save her was the son of the man who had ruined her life.

She thought about the movie night. She thought about how she’d told Liam she hated werewolves. She thought about the look on his face—the hurt she hadn't understood at the time.

"I’m the bait," she whispered to the darkness. "And he’s going to walk right into it."

She looked at the small camera blinking red in the corner of her cell. She knew Liam was watching. She knew he was coming. And for the first time, she didn't know if she wanted him to save her, or if she wanted to run as far away from him as possible.