Chapter 18

18

I s it possible to black out from the intensity of an orgasm? Because I barely remember getting back here to this cell, let alone climbing onto the cot to fall asleep. When I blink my eyes open, there's a steady pounding in my skull and my throat is as dry as the Sahara. It takes me a second to fully come to, and as soon as I reach to my wolf for strength, I realize why.

I've been drugged again.

That motherfucker .

I abruptly sit up, my head spinning and a wave of nausea hitting me. How dare that asshole fuck me in the woods, then haul me back here to shoot me up with wolfsbane and sedatives? If I wasn't already planning on giving him a slow, agonizing death when I escape this place, I am now. The douchebag has it coming.

And speaking of coming…

Ugh, why are fantasies of ripping his throat out immediately followed by a kaleidoscope of filthy memories of what we did in the forest? I may hate Cam and everything he stands for, but hot damn, the boy can get it . Best sex of my life, hands down .

Of course, now I get to play the ‘should've, would've, could've' game with myself. Like I should've taken advantage of the situation when he had his pants down. He would've been caught off guard and I could've gotten away. But instead, I got swept up in the moment, enjoying his dick a little too much to think of anything else but how good it felt moving inside me. And the way he savagely grabbed my hips and pulled my hair and pounded me into the dirt…

Fuck .

I scrub my hands down my face, groaning to myself as I try to pivot my thoughts to something other than getting down and dirty with my warden. I shouldn't have liked it as much as I did. I wouldn't still be in this predicament if I kept my fucking wits about me rather than getting dicknotized. But I couldn't resist giving into the explosive tension between us that's been simmering like an inferno since day one, when I clocked his muscles and tattoos and towering build. His devilishly handsome face. I knew then that he'd be my ruin, and damnit, I was right.

Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it, though. As wrong as it was, it was twice as good. I can still feel the ache of him between my thighs and the bruises on my hips left behind from his grip. It's true that he's my jailer and I'm his captive… but he's also a man, and I'm a woman. There's no faking the kind of sexual chemistry the two of us have.

Or orgasms, for that matter. There was definitely no need to fake those when he was hitting my g-spot with every thrust. Like I said, boy can get it .

Swinging my legs over the edge of the cot, I glance down to see that I'm just as filthy as my current train of thought. This t-shirt was white before I entered the forest, but now both the fabric and my skin are covered in dirt from that frisky little romp in the woods. I need a shower badly.

Leaning down to grab my jug of water off the floor, I start unscrewing the lid, glancing toward the stairs as I hear the lock at the top disengage with a beep. Ever since that creepy dude came down here and yanked my arm through the bars, my heart leaps into my throat when I hear that sound. I hold my breath every time, until Cam comes into view at the bottom of the staircase and I can finally exhale.

My fingers toy with the cap of the water jug as I wait, and I let out a shallow sigh of relief when those shiny black boots land on the bottom step and a now-familiar set of dark eyes lock with mine.

Cam's completely expressionless, but that's nothing new. He always comes down here with his composure intact until I start poking at him to get him to drop the mask. I raise the water jug to my lips as he starts toward my cell, taking a few greedy swallows to soothe my parched throat. Then I wipe my mouth off on a dirty wrist as I lower the jug, glaring daggers at my warden as I swivel to face him.

"Did you drug me again?!" I demand, a harsh bite of accusation in my tone.

His blank expression doesn't even shift in the slightest. "Had to keep you down so I could make repairs," he mutters, nodding toward the window behind me.

I whip around to look, my stomach sinking in disappointment when I see the ‘repairs' he made. What once allowed for an unobstructed view of the outside world is now partially obscured by shiny metal bars, bolted into the cement wall above and below it. Even if I could get the window behind them open again, it's no longer an option for escape.

"You're lucky it was me that caught you and not somebody else," Cam grumbles, and I pivot back around, so angry that steam's practically coming from my ears.

"Oh yeah?" I snap. "Why's that? Wouldn't they have punished me for escaping the same way you did?"

Cam's eyes darken, his lips turning down slightly in a frown. "You wouldn't have enjoyed it," he murmurs.

I scoff a laugh, rolling my eyes. "Who says I enjoyed it? "

"The way you came all over my dick," he deadpans, holding up two fingers and wiggling them at me. " Twice ."

"Fuck off," I grumble, flipping my hair over a shoulder as I turn away from him, folding my arms across my chest. "Did you come down here for seconds, then? Or do you not want your buddies to see that you're fucking your prisoner?" Darting him a sideways glance, I lift my chin, indicating the camera in the upper left corner of my cell.

"They wouldn't see shit, I'm the only one with access to the feed," he states blandly. "Well, me and my dad, but he barely knows how to work it. He's busy with other stuff most of the time anyways."

I stare back at him, arching a brow.

Does he even realize how much he just gave away with that answer? If Cam and his father are the only two with access to the camera feeds, then that must mean they're running this operation. As in, they're the leaders of the shifter hunters. I had a feeling he was important if he was assigned to guard me, but I didn't think I was dealing with one of the bosses themselves. Shit .

I swallow thickly, setting that realization aside before it can fully sink in and give way to a massive internal freakout. "So you're the only one who's been watching me?" I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

He nods.

I shake my head, grimacing. "That'd be kinda romantic if it wasn't so creepy," I mutter.

Cam frowns, his jaw clenching and stoic mask slipping. "I'm just doing my job," he grits out.

I make a clucking sound with my tongue. "Such a good little soldier."

We stare at each other for a long moment, me amused as hell and Cam on the verge of cracking. I can tell by the way the vein in his neck is protruding, his jaw clenched so tightly that I can see the muscle in it feather. For someone in this line of work, he sure is easily rattled. Or maybe I'm just really good at getting under people's skin.

Actually, I know I am. I stir the pot with my friends all the time, pranking and playing and trying to get a rise out of them. It keeps life interesting.

Well, it did . I used to mess around to avoid boredom, but now, I'm bored all the time with no cure. Cam's getting the worst of me every time he comes down here because I can't help but poke the beast in order to get a reaction out of him. All I really want is a little bit of excitement in my day.

Yeah, I'm way beyond feeling afraid here. If he was going to hurt me, he would've done it already. I'm past the point of fear and now I'm just annoyed.

"C'mon, you need a shower,' Cam growls, finally breaking the tense silence between us and putting an end to our staring contest. "You're filthy."

The corner of my mouth ticks up in a smirk. "You didn't seem to mind when you fucked me."

He gives a little shake of his head as he sticks the key in the cell door, turning over the lock. "That won't happen again."

" Sure ," I snort sarcastically. "And it's just a coincidence that the first thing you're doing is getting me naked again, huh?"

"Do you want a shower or not?" he snaps, pushing open the door of my cage. As soon as he does, I realize what he's holding in his hands and it gives me pause. Shit, I must be starting to lose it, because the sight of a soft towel, my own clothes, a hairbrush, and a pack of hair ties almost makes me weep.

I suck in a quiet gasp as my eyes dart back up to meet his, warmth unfurling in my chest.

I'm sure this is some play of his to try to brainwash me into giving up all my secrets or something, but damnit, I can't help my own reaction to seeing those little creature comforts. I'm under no delusion that my captor actually cares about me or my wellbeing, I'm just drooling over the prospect of wearing an actual bra and finally brushing the mess of tangles out of my hair.

I nod quickly and cross the cell to him, not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind, and I swear I see the ghost of a smile cross his lips before he raises a hand, indicating for me to stop.

Not only do my feet, but so does my heart.

"Turn around, hands behind your back," Cam directs in a low, silky voice that seems to have a direct line to my pussy.

"I'm not gonna run," I breathe, pulse racing.

I swear, if he dangled those things in front of me just to rip them away- after drugging me, no less- then I'm going to tear his balls off and feed them to him. There's only so much a girl can take.

"You really think I'd believe that, after what you just pulled?" Cam scoffs, lifting a finger and twirling it around in command.

"Okay, that's fair," I concede, spinning to face the rear wall of the cell and tucking my arms behind me in offering.

Cam scoops both of my wrists up in a single hand, tugging on them gently to guide me backwards into the hall. Then he turns us, putting me in front of him and urging me forward by pressing my wrists against my lower back.

I don't try to pull a fast one and break free. I also avoid glancing into the neighboring cell as we pass, since I doubt they've bothered cleaning poor Tommy's blood off the floor. I just march straight forward down the hallway, past the staircase and toward the bathroom at the end.

The closer we get to that small, windowless room, the faster my pulse races. My throat tightens when I step into the doorway and am reminded just how tiny the room really is, and I almost stop breathing altogether when Cam nudges me forward, releasing my wrists and backing up.

"Here," he mumbles, thrusting the towel, clothes, and brush in my direction as he stands in the doorway, his hulking build eating up most of the space and blocking any chance for escape. "Make it quick, I'll wait out here."

"Wha... bu… you mean you're not coming in?" I stutter, my hands closing tighter around the fabric of the towel at the bottom of the stack.

My warden leans forward to grab the door handle and I flinch back like a skittish animal, my brain struggling to process what's happening. I don't do small spaces, and with the added kick of my wolf being knocked out, my muscles still weak from my escape attempt, and the general mind-fuckery of being held captive for over a week, my fight or flight response has gone haywire. I can usually talk myself down from this early stage of panic, but right now, I'm on emotional overload.

"There aren't any windows in there, so safe bet you won't be able to run," Cam comments as he starts swinging the door closed. "Five minutes," he adds, and my stomach bottoms out with the snick of the latch.

I just stare at the closed door for a second, suspended in a state of confusion and terror as I try to talk myself down from full-on freaking out. This is fine. The room isn't that small. I just need to hurry up and shower and then I can get the fuck out of here.

For a minute, it seems like it works. I take a deep, steadying breath, then spin around, pretending like the walls aren't closing in around me. With jerky movements, I walk over to the sink and drop the stack from my hands onto the counter, making eye contact with myself in the mirror.

Shit, I even look like I'm losing it. My face is noticeably pale, even through the dirt clinging to my skin, and my eyes don't even look like my own. I quickly spin away from the mirror, forcing myself to go through the motions of walking over to the shower cubicle- which for the record, is also a ridiculously tight space- and twisting the handle. Cold water splashes my skin as it turns on, but I'm so numb that I barely even flinch, whipping my shirt off overhead and dropping it to the tiled floor.

Stepping out of my shorts and under the spray, I suck in a gasp as the frigid water steals the breath from my lungs. It's probably only for a second, but unfortunately, that's the straw that breaks the camel's back. I immediately start hyperventilating, thoughts of doom flooding my brain.

I'm going to asphyxiate in this tiny bathroom and nobody will ever know what happened to me. The hunters will bury my body, and my family won't ever have closure. They'll wonder if I'm still alive out there somewhere. They'll never know how hard I fought and how I almost got away. They'll never know how much I love them.

The walls start closing in. Black spots cloud my vision as my knees wobble, and I press a palm to the tile just in time for my legs to give out beneath me. I slide down to the floor, putting my back against the wall and curling in on myself, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

I bury my face in the tops of my knees, still struggling for breath, the salt of tears burning my eyes.

I'm suffocating. I'm going to die here.

Distantly, I register the sound of the door opening and Cam's muffled voice cutting through the static in my brain. I lift my head just enough to see his boots splashing against the tile in front of me as he steps right underneath the shower spray, crouching down until I can see his face.

His lips are moving, but I can't make out the words leaving them. There's something about his voice that sounds panicked, but he doesn't know real panic. I'm in the midst of a full-blown panic attack, and although I'm self-aware enough to know that's what this is, I still can't do anything to stop it. It feels like I'm slowly drowning, kicking uselessly for the surface while all I can do is watch myself sink even deeper .

"Luna," Cam says sternly, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipping my face up toward his. "Hey, look at me."

His voice is gentler than I've ever heard it, and as soon as our eyes lock, my vision begins to clear.

I see that strong brow and those intense eyes. That dark, close-cropped beard and that tightly-clenched jaw. That head of curly dark hair. He's shirtless- he must've whipped it off as he rushed over to the shower.

"Breathe with me," he commands in a low tone that makes me shiver, and when he takes a deep breath in, I mimic the action, releasing it when he does. Again and again, until it finally feels like I can actually draw air back into my lungs.

"Focus on your breathing," Cam directs in a low rumble. "On the way the water feels against your skin. On the sound of my voice."

My eyes slide closed as I do all three of those things, my anxiety slowly ebbing away while he coaches me through it.

I have no concept of how long it takes. Eventually, my pulse starts to slow and the adrenaline starts to taper off. Then I open my eyes again, meeting his, and I see him clearly for what feels like the first time.

"Better now?" he asks gruffly.

I give him a feeble nod.

"You were having a panic attack."

"No shit, Sherlock," I grumble, sliding my hands down to the floor and shifting to sit up straighter.

Now that I'm out of the clutches of panic, I'm just… embarrassed . Both that it happened in the first place and that Cam, of all people, was the one who had to talk me down. The same person who put me in this situation to begin with. This is his fault, and I fucking hate him for it.

"You've had them before?" Cam asks, narrowing his eyes on me curiously.

I nod, watching the way the water runs over the sharp contours of his face. It's no longer cold, but he's still crouching partially beneath the spray, not seeming to care that his pants and boots are now drenched.

"I've seen them before," he murmurs. "Not that bad, but my friend Ben used to…"

He abruptly trails off, looking away and pushing up to his feet. Sidestepping to get out from underneath the shower spray, he pauses in hesitation for a moment before begrudgingly holding a hand out to me.

I reach for it, allowing him to pull me up. Not because I'm swooning over the gesture, but because my body still feels partially numb and I don't trust myself to try to stand on my own just yet.

"You good?" he asks as I stumble slightly and slap a palm up against the shower wall to brace myself.

"I'm fine ," I grind out.

Cam nods sharply, backing out of the shower cubicle and turning to head for the door. My chest tightens as I watch after him, but instead of opening it and leaving again, he stops, turning around to lean his back against the door and take up his former post. He shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, eyes fixed on the screen as he starts scrolling. "Finish up, you've got two minutes," he mumbles absently.

I bite my tongue against the urge to snap back at him, wanting to just get this over with so I can leave the bathroom. Pushing off from the wall, I step beneath the water and reach for the god awful three-in-one men's soap to wash up with.

I'm still jittery from the residual effects of my panic attack, but I make quick work of getting clean, shutting off the water and stepping over to the sink to towel off. Then I get dressed and start tackling the tangles in my hair with the brush he provided.

All the while, Cam remains in his post by the door, silently scrolling on his phone. He doesn't even look up at me once, and I'm not sure why that bothers me so much.