Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

ZANE

T he floor beneath me was cold stone, cutting into my flesh. I couldn't remember the last time I had been able to move from my hands and knees. The chains kept my wrists and ankles bound in one position, metal cutting into my flesh. My eyes saw nothing but red—and the occasional shadow when they came, dark and looming over me.

When I disobeyed, there was pain, when I obeyed—more pain. It was easier to fight them, but I didn't know how long I could hold out.

There was a sharp noise—metal against stone, and I knew what it meant. They were here. Icy water splashed over me, and I turned my head, nostrils flaring to catch their scents. A hand—clammy, weak, human—brushed over me, and I bared my teeth against the gag.

"Why isn't it working? It's been down here for weeks."

"It's going to take time, but we might need to accept that this one won't break at all."

"That's not something I'm willing to accept. I'm about to announce my candidacy, and I don't have time to hunt down another fucking Alpha. Do better."

"Sir, I…"

"Do better, or I will unleash him and let him have his way with you the way he's done to those other dogs." The hand returned, brushing over my jaw, my neck—reminding me of my capture, my forced submission. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You fucking animal." Blunt nails scraped my scalp, forcing my head back as fingers twisted into my hair. My eyes were forced open, and I could see light, and red, and rage, and then I was let go again. "You have a week."

Silence fell, but the echo of his voice remained. I didn't know his face, but I didn't need to. I would find him when I was free, and the last sound he would ever make would be his screams before I tore his throat out with my bare hands.