I

Blair

The air in the room was thick, heavy with the smell of stale sweat and the icy fear that had become my constant companion. I lay on the bed, the mattress creaking under Benjie's weight as he loomed over me. My hands instinctively clutched the sheet beneath me, my knuckles white with tension.

“Do you want me to go fast, Blair?” His voice, more a harsh growl than a question, echoed close to my ear. There was relentless mockery in his tone.

I swallowed, the lump in my throat growing larger. I kept a firm pressure on my lips, struggling to contain any sound. I knew that any sign of distress, a stifled sob or a moan of pain, would only fuel his cruelty.

Benjie moved on top of me, a dead, oppressive weight, forcing his body against mine. It was not an act of passion, but of imposition, a brutal assertion of power that left me exhausted.

“I asked if you want me to go fast, bitch!” His sudden shout made me cringe.

A sharp pain exploded across my cheek; he had slapped me. The metallic taste of fear filled my mouth.

“Y-yes,” I managed to whisper, the word barely audible. I couldn't help it; a few hot tears escaped from my eyes, sliding down my temples. I wiped them away as quickly as possible, hoping the darkness would hide them.

A horrible smile spread across his face. “Yes! I know you love it when I give you what you want.” He leaned in, and I felt the unpleasant brush of his rough beard as he licked the edge of my ear. A shiver ran through me, not of pleasure, but of pure disgust.

“Your breasts seem to grow bigger every day, perhaps because I've been massaging them,” he commented with false sweetness. His hand closed around my breast with painful pressure, his fingers squeezing aggressively. I let out a silent gasp.

I wanted to push him away, hit him, demand that he stop, but cold logic held me back. Any resistance would only result in worse punishment. It would only make everything worse.

I remained motionless, my body an inert object under his control, as he continued his physical assault, his hands moving without consideration for my discomfort.

“Your lips are so red, Blair. You really do look like your mother.”

That phrase. I clenched my jaw until it hurt. My mother's name was a stab in the heart. I clenched my fists, channeling all my boiling rage to keep myself still. How I hated this man!

The idea of getting up and smashing his face in for that comment flashed through my mind. But just as my muscles tensed, I heard the voice of my wolf, Kodaline, in my mind.

"Don't do anything stupid, Blair. Control it, we just have to be strong."

"What do you think I'm doing? Having a damn tea party? I growled resentfully.

“I'm sorry.” Kodaline's apology made me feel a pang of guilt for my outburst.

Benjie's weight felt like a slab, each push monotonous and exhausting. It seemed endless.

"Enough is enough, Blair. We have to get out of here. I don't know how much longer I can take this, he's not my damn mate." My wolf's anguish mirrored my own.

"And how are we supposed to do that? We're locked up tight. We've been trying to escape for months and we always end up in this bed with this stinking old man." The desperation in my voice was clear, and Kodaline's silence was the only response. We both knew there was no escape from this place.

The only apparent release was death, and I wasn't ready to give in to that yet. I'd been trapped for months, and I wouldn't die without getting my revenge. The idea of settling the score with Benjie was the only thing keeping me clinging to life, but with every failed escape attempt, my hope grew dimmer.

Sometimes, I couldn't help but resent my own nature. If I hadn't transformed at sixteen, my stepfather, a werewolf hunter, wouldn't have captured me and locked me in this horrible dark hole, and my mother would probably still be alive.

“Ah! You're still so... tight. Can you feel me inside you?” Benjie's question snapped me out of my thoughts.

My eyes widened in terror and I swallowed hard as I watched him smile wickedly as his face drew closer to mine. I turned my head immediately so that his lips hit my cheek instead of my mouth.

“Kiss me, you fucking bitch!” he yelled angrily and slapped me again. The pain made me moan involuntarily.

“S-stop,” I whispered, pleading, but it was like talking to a stone wall.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hair with brutal force, forcing my head to turn so I was looking directly at him.

“Now look at me and kiss me, unless you want me to invite all the hunters to watch me...” His threat hung over me, implicit and terrifying.

My body trembled. I knew he wasn't joking.

I took a deep breath, my stomach churning at the thought of kissing this man. He looked at me with a devilish smile, a satisfied predator, and didn't waste another second, forcing his lips against mine, claiming them without my consent.

I closed my eyes tightly, holding my breath. Benjie's breath, a nauseating mixture of nicotine and strong liquor, was yet another sensory assault. He was trying to bite my lower lip when suddenly a loud, sharp knock echoed on the door, stopping him midway.

The door creaked open, and I saw Kendrick's silhouette peeking through.

“What do you want?” Benjie asked, his tone harsh and full of irritation at the interruption.

“The Raven Clan has arrived,” Kendrick replied in an expressionless voice, without a hint of emotion, keeping his gaze down, toward his father and the scene he couldn't help but see.

“They say you must move right now. The attack on the Dark Shadow Pack is at midnight.”

"Damn it! Tell them to wait! I'm not done with this yet...!“ Benjie groaned, and I felt his body move on top of me before he pushed his body slowly one last time.

”No, they said you have to leave now." Kendrick insisted, and I closed my eyes in fear as I heard the guttural oath Benjie directed at his own son.

“I'll kill that Raven Clan after we're done with the Dark Shadow Pack. And you, I'm going to tear your... again so your she-wolf can take care of healing your pain before I come back here.” Benjie shouted the threat at me. He then pulled his body away from me.

He got up from the bed, hurriedly putting on his pants and a T-shirt before finally leaving the room. The slam of the door that followed made the walls vibrate.

The relief was like icy air entering my lungs. I took a deep breath and prayed with all my might that Benjie would not return alive tonight. It would be an unimaginable release if his attack on the other pack proved fatal for him.

I don't know how long I remained motionless. In the darkness and silence of this cell, my moments alone were often consumed by crying, but the emotional fatigue was deep. I knew tears were not a tool for escape.

“Blair.”

“Blair,”

I frowned. Someone was calling my name. I looked toward the door and saw Kendrick again.

I offered him a weak smile, a sad gesture that barely moved my lips. I was too exhausted for the effort.

“It's time for us to go. Everyone else is gone,” Kendrick said, and there was an unusual spark of nervous hope in his voice.