For the first time in forever, when I woke up, the world wasn't spinning. 

In fact, it was silent, too silent, and too warm to be on the forest floor.

The roof above me was new, with smooth black wood beams, and sunlight seeping between the curtains in narrow strips. 

My fingers were clenched in a blanket that was soft, not tattered like my normal one, and scented lightly with something herbal and fresh.

The last thing I remembered-

I took a breath as it hit me like a punch.

Baron's smirk. The laughter of the pack. The wolves.

The metallic taste of blood in my mouth, as I ran for my life.

And then, I remembered the golden-brown eyes that paralyzed me before everything went black.

I sat up too fast, my heart racing, and froze. 

I was in a bed - not my pallet on the dirty floor, not even a pack-house cot. 

A bed, neatly drawn-up sheets, and I was wearing... something else.

It was a gray, loose cotton shirt and matching soft trousers, too. 

My skin was clean, and there was no dried blood, no grime. 

The sharp sting of my wounds was dulled under neat bandages.

My throat tightened.

Who touched me?

The door opened suddenly, and I suddenly jumped in my bed, ready to bolt, until I saw him.

The man was tall-taller than me with a good head. His broad shoulders took up the doorway, but not in a menacing sort of way. 

His blonde hair caught the light, curling a little at the ends, and his eyes were a pale blue, like glacier water. 

He was young, definitely around my age, but something in the way he stood, with confidence, poise, negated his age.

He smiled weakly, holding up his hands in an open, relaxed gesture. "Don't worry," he said easily, coming closer.

A man didn't get you dressed. You can be assured of that, I promise."

I gazed at him. My muscles were still tense, but... some of the panic seeped out of me.

"I'm Dylan," he went on, pulling a chair up next to the bed. "You're safe here."

Safe. I almost laughed-if I could. Safe was a word that didn't exist in my vocabulary.

"You've been out for a while," Dylan went on. Two days, actually. 

Your injuries were bad, but we cleaned you up, and sewed what needed sewing. Thought you'd wake up sooner, but... guess you're stubborn."

I frowned at him.

"Sorry," he said immediately. That didn't come out right. 

Stubborn's good. Means you struggle to stay alive."

I tipped my head, studying him. His tone wasn't as patronizing as I expected. It was actually... warm.

He watched me hesitate and leaned back, giving me room. "Do you remember everything that happened?"

I hesitated, then nodded once.

His eyes softened. "That will be okay for the time being." 

"You don't need to say more if you don't want to-" He paused, a realization striking him. Wait. Can you... talk?"

The question punched breath from my lungs. I hesitated for a while before I shook my head slowly.

Understanding broke out in his face. "Right. Then we'll figure something out."

He smiled, a slight but genuine one. "It's all right." I can-"

The door opened again, and it was like all the air in the room shifted.

The man who walked in seemed to pull the light in behind him.

He was tall-even taller than Dylan-and he had dark hair that looked like black silk, smoothly combed back.

His shoulders were squared in a way that spoke of power and those eyes-golden-brown, intense, and burning.

Those were the same eyes I saw before I passed out.

My breath caught in my chest.

He looked at me the way a hawk looks at prey-measuring, and calculating. "Who is she?" he asked Dylan, not taking his eyes off me.

"She's the one we found on the border," Dylan replied evenly.

"I'm aware of that, Dylan," the man muttered as he took a step closer. "What were you doing in my territory?"

I flinched before I could stop myself. His voice was low and even, but it had an edge that rubbed wrongly along my spine.

When I didn't answer-couldn't actually-he gritted his jaw. "You don't belong here. So tell me now, who sent you?"

My hands trembled beneath the blanket, and I shook my head.

"Can't you speak?" he asked in a flat voice.

I nodded once.

He breathed out slowly, as if my silence was an inconvenience. "So you can't tell me anything useful."

I swallowed hard.

"Do you at least have a name?" he asked again.

I hesitated, then signed the first letters out of habit before remembering no one here would understand.

His forehead furrowed. "I did ask you a question."

My heart rate spiked, and I heard my wolf whine in the back of my mind.

That is it. This is how I die.

"She's not a threat," Dylan said suddenly, cutting through the tension like a blade.

The golden-eyed man shot him a slashing glance. "You don't know that."

"I do," Dylan said, calm but firm. You pulled her off the ground yourself. If she was dangerous, you'd have felt it."

The man didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on me for another long moment, searching, measuring. 

Then, finally, he turned and walked to the door.

"Keep her here," he ordered Dylan. "Don't let her wander."

The door shut behind him with a quiet click, but it felt like a slammed gate.

I let out a long, deep breath, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders.

Dylan faced me again, a little smile on his lips returning. 

Then, silently, he raised his hands and signed" Don't worry. I got you.

I stared at him, my eyes wide.

He knew sign language. Oh my God, he knows sign language!

There was a crack in my chest-something that had been closed off for years. 

My lips curved, hesitantly at first, then fully, into a smile. 

The first in... I couldn't even remember how long.

Dylan smiled back at me. "See? Not so bad here."

And for the first time in years, I think I almost believed it.

CIARAN

I closed the door behind me, and the sound echoed against the noise in my head.

The girl didn't even try to answer. No sound, no word, just wide eyes and trembling silence, as if I were talking to a mute person.

She wasn't defiant. I knew this because I'd spent my time around defiant men and women alike. This... This was something else.

Maybe she was afraid I was too volatile to be spoken to.

Maybe she was right.

The truth was that the thought of her thinking that way irritated me. 

I'd dared kings, warlords, witches who'd cut their own wrists before refusing to give me what I wanted. 

But her? She just sat there, in silence, letting my words dangle between us like a fog.

My mind flashed back to her in the woods-bleeding, terrified, but alive enough to look at me as if I was her worst nightmare. 

As if I was going to end her. And maybe I would've, but there was the fact that she's my mate. 

My wolf preened at that thought.

I was halfway down the hall when boots thudded against the floorboards behind me.

"Alpha," a guard called, his voice low and urgent.

I turned. "What?"

"The men that weren't killed are here."

I stilled. I forgot about them for a while. "Where are they?" I asked, though I already knew their location.

"In the holding cells," he continued. Four of them. They're not rogues and were obviously organized. In fact, they were too organized."

My wolf growled low in my chest. "Take me to them."

---------

The holding cells were located in the lower wing of the prison, a place that reeked of rust, stone, and things that would make any sane wolf's nose water. 

The guards at the doorway stood at my attention when they saw me, parting to let me through without a word.

Inside, oil lamps flickered, making shadows on iron bars. Four men leaned against the walls-bare to the chest, skin shining with sweat. 

Their eyes followed me as I walked in, measuring, fearless. That won't continue by the time I'm done with them.

"Which was in front?" I snapped, not taking my eyes from them.

The guard pointed. "The one on the far left."

I moved closer to him. "Name."

He gave me a slow, taunting smile. "Why don't you tell me first -?"

My knuckles slammed into his jaw before he managed to finish the sentence. 

Spatters of blood hit the wall and his head jerked sideways, a growl escaping his thin lips.

"You crossed my borders and chased someone into my territory," I said in a steady voice. "You'll explain why, or you'll be leaving this room in ruins."

The man spat blood onto the floor in front of me. "She's ours."

My wolf stirred inside of me. "Poor choice of words."

I looked over at the guard beside the door. "Get Abe."

Abe was my in-house alchemist. He was half-mad, completely brilliant, and far too creative with pain.

He limped in a few minutes later, carrying a tiny iron box. "Alpha," he said, a crooked grin appearing across his scarred face.

"Are we testing the shift-serum today?"

The prisoner's eyes narrowed. "Shift what?"

Abe got down on his knees, drawing out the case to reveal a thick vial of black, churning fluid. "This," he spoke in a near-happy voice, "forces a wolf's body into an... unstable condition." 

Neither man nor wolf. The bones will be in half-shift, and muscles will bend the wrong way. It'll be agonizing. 

Terribly agonizing." Abe rose his head, a maniacal grin on his face. "But it'll all be temporary, of course. That is if you can get the antidote."

I nodded once. "Use it."

Abe waited, drawing the liquid into a thick steel syringe. The prisoner tried to turn the other way, but the manacles held him fast. 

Abe slowly got up and limped his way to the leader. The needle entered the side of his neck, and the effect was almost immediate.

His back arched into spasms, his bones cracking beneath his hide. 

Fur burst out in uncontrolled patches over his shoulders and arms, claws bursting halfway through his fingertips before drawing back. 

His face twisted into something non-human-half-elongated jaws, teeth snapping at the air in agony.

What he produced was not a growl or a scream-it was both, stacked one on top of the other.

Abe chuckled. "Untidy, isn't it?"

"Speak," I ordered.

The man's head jerked toward me, eyes wild. "We were ordered-" His voice cut off in a choked snarl as the shift pulled at his ribs.

"By who?"

He shook his head, sweat flying. "You'll kill me either way."

I stepped closer, close enough to snap his half-furred jaw. "If you confess now, you will die shortly. If you do not..." 

My gaze darted to Abe. "We can keep you like this for hours..." I trailed off, "Or maybe years."

The rest of the prisoners shifted with discomfort. One of them, a scrawny wolf with a jagged scar bisecting his cheek, spoke up. 

"You're wasting your time, Alpha," he said. "We will not betray her."

Her.

I gradually swung my head toward him. "Her who?"

He bit his tongue, and blood poured from his mouth in drips.

I stepped to get another tool-a set of hooks hanging on the wall. 

Their points glinted even under the poor light. "Silver cuts through our bodies like butter. You know that?"

The scarred wolf's eyes flashed at the hooks. "You wouldn't-"

The initial hook broke through the flesh of his shoulder before he could stop it. His scream was loud, cutting and bouncing off the cell walls.

"Names," I said flatly.

Nothing.

I drew out the hook, and watched as the blood flowed down his chest, then drove it into his thigh. His leg spasmed fiercely.

"You want me to keep going?" I asked, my voice low enough to be a whisper.

The leader laughed, gasping through the agony. "You think we fear you more than we fear her?"

I dropped to one knee so we were at eye level. "I can make you fear me more than anyone you've ever known."

The prisoner under the serum writhed behind me, his body still convulsing back and forth between forms. 

Abe made a subtle adjustment to the dose to prevent him from collapsing too early.

The third prisoner broke first. "Moon Bliss Pack!" he shouted. "We were sent from Moon Bliss!"

My head tilted. "By whom?"

His gaze darted towards the leader. Nothing.

I got to my feet, rolling my shoulders, allowing my wolf to flex against the seams of my skin. "Last chance."

Since no answer was given, I let him go.

My claws tore through the leader's chest before he could even blink. 

Blood squirted hot over my hands, the metallic taste heavy in the air. 

The others moved back as far as their chains would allow, their eyes wide with real fear now.

"You were given orders," I told him, my voice low, even as the leader gagged and struggled for his own blood. 

"Those orders led you into my territory. And you chose to hunt here."

I struck again, shredding skin, silver hooks set aside for the sake of my own sanity. I want to shred them apart with my own hands. 

The prisoner on the serum shrieked until his voice broke, the noise splintering into wet gasps.

I didn't stop until the leader's heartbeat slowed and stopped.

A loud silence enveloped the cell.

I was standing there, gasping and covered in blood that wasn't mine but theirs. It was on the floor, and truly, I was glad for it.

The other three gazed at me, shaking, but I didn't touch them. Not yet.

Above me somewhere, my mate sat on her bed, probably still thinking I was the monster she'd met in the forest.

Maybe she was right.

I stepped around the body of the leader, my boots leaving crimson red prints on the stone floor, and I thought-

I thought of the fact that all this wasn't enough to quell the rage and lust that had been in me, most especially since two nights ago when I first laid eyes on her.