A low groan escaped from Violetās throat as consciousness slowly crept back in. Her head pounded like war drums, and her whole body ached all over as if she had been run over by a truck. Except if that was the case she wouldnāt be alive. Right now, she was still breathing.
The first thing she saw when her eyes blinked open was a familiar face. Griffin Hale was hovering above her with warm brown eyes and a big, sad smile.
"Hello, beautiful," he said gently.
For a fleeting second, Violet smiled back, comforted by the familiar warmth in his gaze, until last night came crashing into her mind.
She bolted upright, gasping, but her muscles buckled beneath her, and she sank to the floor, palms slapping down to break the fall.
"What the...?" Violet muttered, her heart thundering. Then she looked down, and froze.
Thick, rusted shackles bound her ankles, the cold bite of metal digging into her skin.
"Was just about to get to that..." Griffin said wryly. The tease was there, but his smile didnāt quite reach his eyes.
Violet scanned the room, only now realizing they werenāt alone. They were in some kind of prison.
The walls were made of rotting concrete, thick with cracks and dark stains she didnāt want to name. The air reeked of mildew, dried blood, sweat, and the stench of human waste. God, she wanted to throw up.
The only source of light came from a grimy, narrow window high on the wall that barely let in a sliver of daylight. The young women with them were silent and wide-eyed. Some were huddled together, while the others sat apart, all of them gaunt with fear etched into their faces.
Violet felt a chill crawl down her spine. Her stomach twisted violently and she had to swallow down the bile rising in her throat.
"What is this place?" she asked in a whisper, dread heavy in her voice.
Griffin exhaled, looking around. "Itās probably a holding cell," he said. "Rogues donāt belong to packs. Thatās what makes them different from us. They have no allegiance, no order and no rules."
He paused before continuing. "And because theyāre outcasts, most never get mates."
Violetās eyes moved to the girls again as a sick understanding hit her like a slap.
"Shit. They stole these girls from their homes," she finished for him with a hollow voice.
Griffin nodded once.
"They were probably taken from towns, and packs they attacked. Rogues are known to leave destruction behind them."
Violet could hardly breathe now.
Griffin must have noticed because he leaned in closer, bringing his cuffed hands up to gently brush the swelling at the side of her face with his knuckles. His touch was featherlight, but even that made her wince.
"Hey," he murmured, shushing her softly. "Iām sorry. That bastard didnāt hold back. But Iāll kill him. I swear, the second we get out of here, heās dead."
Violet tried to focus on his words, drawing strength from them, but her eyes dropped to the glowing cuffs on his wrists.
"Is that the reason you canāt shift?" she asked.
Griffin gave her a nod. "They call them suppressors. Courtesy of Storm Enterprises."
Violet grimaced.
"They were designed to restrain werewolf criminals. It keeps the wolf buried, cutting off our strength, speed, and senses. Right now, Iām about as useful as a human locked in a zoo cage."
He lifted the glowing cuffs slightly, and Violet could see the faint hum of power thrumming beneath the surface. It was both fascinating as it was eerie.
"How did the rogues get their hands on it?"
"Donāt know. Probably from the black market, or somehow. Itās illegal to carry them around unless authorized. Either way, the rogues got better use for them now."
Violet stared down at the cold metal shackles around her ankles, and her blood turned to ice. They couldnāt stay here like sitting ducks, waiting for the inevitable.
"We have to do something, Griffin. We canāt just sit here and wait for them toā" Her voice caught in her throat. She couldnāt bring herself to say it, so she swallowed hard instead.
She didnāt know what the rogues planned to do to Griffin, but for her, the future was clear. The same grim fate that loomed over every woman in this cell. Her stomach churned.
Violet turned to look around. She didnāt need words to know they were all thinking the same thing. The fear etched into their tired, hollow gazes confirmed it. None of them wanted to be next.
"Donāt be hasty, Violet," Griffin warned her. "Weāre in rogue territory. Itās an unfamiliar ground. You donāt want to make things worse."
Her fists clenched. "So what do we do? Wait for them to come take me?"
"Nobody is taking you." Griffinās voice was a low growl, his eyes flashing briefly with wolf-light, then dimming again as the cuff drained his strength. Softer now, he said, "We wait for Asher and the others. Theyāll come."
"And if they donāt get here in time?" Violet shot back. "The rogues arenāt stupid. They know weāre counting on rescue."
Before Griffin could answer, the iron door creaked open.
Their conversation stopped instantly and both turned toward the sound.
"Well, well," a voice said with mocking delight. "Isnāt this our favorite little couple?"
The rogue stepped inside, swaggering confidently. As he came closer, Violet could make out his features and her stomach dropped.
It was him. The bastard whoād grabbed her last night. The one who knocked her out.
He clicked his tongue when he saw her injury. "Oof. That looks bad. My bad. I get a little carried away sometimes."
Without thinking, Violet lunged at him, rage fueling her.
But pain exploded in her stomach as he landed a brutal punch to her midsection. She crumpled, breath ripped from her lungs in a wheeze.
"Violet!" Griffin roared, stepping forward. But the rogue spun toward him in warning.
"Move again," he sneered, "and her punishment doubles."
Griffin froze. The wild fury in his eyes didnāt waver, but he held himself back. The Rogue meant his words and he didnāt want to make things for Violet.
His voice shook with restrained rage. "I swear to you, I will end you with my bare hands."
The rogue only laughed, unbothered. Then he crouched in front of Violetās bent form and grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to meet his eyes.
He tilted her head from side to side, studying her. "I donāt get it," he muttered. "Why would anyone pay so much for you?"
Violet blinked through the haze of pain. "What...?"