The cages were not empty.I stood at the bottom of those concrete stairs with cold air pressing against my skin like a warning, and I counted them. Six cages, three on each side of the tunnel, stretching back into the flicker of dying fluorescent light. Most were empty. But in the very last one on the left, a figure sat hunched against the chain link, knees drawn to their chest, face buried in folded arms.Small. Thin. Still.My heart climbed into my throat.“Zane.” His name came out barely above a whisper.He was already moving. He reached the cage in four long strides, crouching in front of it, flashlight cutting through the shadows. I followed, Darius right behind me, his alpha aura so thick in the enclosed space it felt like breathing through wet cloth.The figure stirred at the sound of our footsteps.A girl.She couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Dark hair matted and tangled, bruising along one cheekbone, wrists wrapped in what looked like silver-threaded rope the kind used
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