Chapter 6

6

T he next time I come to, it's quiet again. Eerily quiet.

It takes me a second to get my bearings as I slowly come back into myself, realizing that I'm no longer lying on the floor by the bars, but on the cot, instead. Someone must've moved me, and just the thought of being manhandled while I was passed out makes my damn skin crawl. I sit up with a start, eyes dropping to confirm that my clothes are still on, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief when I find that they are.

Small miracles.

It's dark outside now, the moonlight from the window barely illuminating the inside of the cell. As my eyes slowly adjust, I drop my gaze to glance around the cramped interior, noticing a small plastic tray on the floor beside my bed that definitely wasn't there before. There isn't much on it- just a paper cup full of water and a napkin with a stack of crackers- but I'm starved . If my math is right, I haven't had anything to eat or drink in over a day, and the mere sight of the food and water makes my stomach clench in protest.

I'm not an idiot, though. I'm literally being held captive right now, so I need to be wary of anything I'm offered. Sliding my feet off the edge of the bed, I bend down to pick up the cup of water, lifting it to my nose and taking a sniff. Nothing smells off about it, so I venture a cautious sip, barely wetting my lips as I struggle to decide whether or not it tastes strange.

I can't tell if it does. I'm not exactly in peak physical condition right now, though, so my mind could just be playing tricks on me. Setting the cup back on the tray, I pick up a cracker next, taking a careful nibble of the corner. Then I wait for a minute, staring down at the tray and playing a game of chicken with myself.

The water and cracker taste fine.

If I'm going to have any hope of escaping this cell, I'll need my strength.

Fuck it.

Whoever kidnapped me wouldn't have gone through the trouble just to poison me now. It's with that thought I throw caution to the wind, wolfing down the crackers as fast as I can and taking greedy sips from the water cup. It isn't enough to soothe my parched throat, and I keep coughing as the crackers get stuck on the way down, but at least it's something.

I've just lifted the tray to my lap to search for any remaining crumbs when I startle at the sound of someone clearing their throat close by, jerking my head sideways to squint through the darkness beyond the bars of my cell.

I can barely make out the shape of a person sitting in a chair on the other side, shrouded in the shadows. But then they lean forward, the pale moonlight from my window catching on the man's sharp features, and I suck in an audible gasp, dropping the tray to the floor with a clatter.

He's somehow both startlingly attractive and sinister looking; a toxic combination for a girl who likes to play with fire. I'm a sucker for bad boy energy, and this guy is oozing it from every pore. The lack of light only accentuates the harsh angles of his high cheekbones, strong brow, and defined jawline, rugged with a close-cropped dark beard. His inky black hair is short on the sides and long on top in a mess of curls, deliciously disheveled like he's been running his hands through it nonstop. The clincher, though, is his ink. Monochromatic tattoos adorn his deep bronze skin, crawling up the length of his corded forearms in intricate designs and disappearing beneath the sleeves of his tight black t-shirt. Inked guys are my freaking kryptonite.

When our eyes meet, I instantly recognize him, because those are the same eyes that stared down at me as I lost consciousness earlier. They're endlessly dark with an edge of cruelty, intensely focused on my own. The only difference from this morning is that they're glassier now, no doubt due to the array of empty beer bottles scattered at his feet.

How long has he been sitting there?

The corners of his plush lips lift in a smirk as I continue staring at him mutely, trapped in a suspended state of shock and awe. Then I remember that I'm literally in a prison cell because I've been fucking kidnapped by the lunatic on the other side of the bars, and I quickly snap back to reality, my own lips twisting in a scowl as I narrow my eyes on my captor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans in further to rest his elbows on his knees, cocking his head like he's observing a zoo animal in a cage. "Welcome back, Luna," his deep voice rumbles. "Has anyone ever told you that you sleep like the dead?"

My heart stutters in my chest, prickles of warning creeping up my spine. Seeing those eyes again just reminded me of what was happening in the neighboring cell before I was knocked out by whatever he injected me with, and I snap my gaze in that direction, cold dread flooding my veins.

"Tommy?" I call out, trying to keep my voice calm even though I'm internally panicking.

There's no response. I'm only met with eerie silence as I slowly swing my gaze back to the guy seated outside my cell, his smug smirk still firmly in place.

"What did you do to him?" I demand through gritted teeth as I leap from the rickety cot to my feet. My hands curl into fists at my sides and I storm across the cell in his direction, radiating fury. "I swear, if you don't let us both go, you're a fucking dead man. I'll destroy you."

He chuckles in response to my threat, dark eyes flickering with morbid amusement. "You're a vicious little thing, aren't you?"

I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. I'm five foot nine, I've never been called little . I'm tall for a girl. But then he rises to stand across from me, stepping closer to the bars and towering over me with his imposing stature, and I suddenly feel smaller than I ever have.

My stomach swoops and I swallow thickly.

Shit, this guy has to be at least six foot six. He's even taller than my brother, and though he's less bulky than Madd, the way the fabric of his t-shirt strains against his thick shoulders and broad chest proves he's no stranger to the gym. His biceps are ripped, and I'll bet he's hiding a lot more hard-earned muscle underneath that shirt of his.

I take a tentative sniff in his direction, confirming that he is, indeed, human, but then I'm also immediately knocked off-kilter by how startlingly good he smells. Like citrus and clove, tangy and distinctly masculine. My mouth waters in response, but I quickly shove that thought aside and mentally curse myself for allowing this prick to get under my skin even for a second. I don't care how divine he smells, he's the fucking enemy here.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," I seethe, a sharp edge of violence in my tone.

"See, that's where you're wrong," he fires back, stepping closer to the bars and leveling me with an icy glare. "I know exactly who you are, and more importantly, exactly what you are, Luna ."

I roll my eyes so hard I practically see the back of my skull. "The fact that you keep calling me that only proves you don't. "

He arches a brow, looking smug as fuck. "Really? So you weren't out installing new cameras last week with your Alpha?"

My jaw slackens, and even though I recover quickly and snap my mouth shut a fraction of a second later, it's not fast enough for him to miss.

His lips spread in a smile, revealing two rows of straight white teeth framed by dimples on both cheeks. "It's all sinking in now, isn't it?" he mocks as I stand there frozen with my mind racing.

Shit, these sick fucks have been watching us. They've been planning this. I knew I'd walked into a trap somehow, but I didn't realize it was one designed specifically for me.

"We'd hoped to get you both, but something tells me your Alpha mate will do just about anything to save his Luna," my captor continues, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he gives me a slow once-over. "Isn't that how your mate bonds work? You can't live without each other or some shit?"

Deranged laughter bubbles from my throat. I mean, there's nothing funny about the situation I've found myself in, but it's hilarious that this idiot actually thinks I'm mated to my twin brother. Whatever intelligence he's relying on is sorely lacking.

His carefully schooled mask cracks in response to my laughter, his expression almost slipping into a frown.

"You're fucking deluded!" I snicker, choking on a laugh. "Do you even realize how dumb you sound right now? You have no idea what you're talking about!"

Fury sparks in his gaze, but he quickly catches himself, shoring up his composure with an arrogant lift of his chin. "No? Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you're not a werewolf, that you're not a Luna."

I shake my head, still chuckling to myself.

"That'd be a lot more fun, actually," he murmurs, swiping a hand over his chin. "Then I could just leverage you to bring in a better hostage." A cruel smile creases his lips. "You're tempting me with a good time, beastie."

I'm definitely not laughing anymore. Cold dread seeps into my veins at the thought of being leveraged against someone I love. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to keep Madd and his actual Luna safe, so I've got no choice but to play along with this lunatic's game.

For now.

"You're sick," I spit. Literally . I hock a loogie right at him, like the fucking lady I'm not. It lands on the toe of his big black boot and he doesn't even flinch.

"And you're a monster," he replies coolly.

"There's only one monster here, and it isn't me," I say, squaring my shoulders to stand taller even though I feel like curling in on myself.

Something about the energy this guy's putting off makes me feel like I should cower, and that never fucking happens. I'm surrounded by Alpha types daily and always hold my own. This human has Alpha energy in a big way, though, and it catches me so off guard that I focus on his scent again to confirm that I didn't miss something.

"You sure about that?" he murmurs, arching a brow. "I'm not a freak of nature who can transform into a rabid animal."

Yup, definitely human. Definitely a dickhead, too, and one of the shifter hunters. I figured as much, but it's good to have confirmation. At least it's not some new, unknown enemy to contend with. Then again, the fact that these guys have had a decade of practice killing shifters doesn't exactly bode well for me.

I level him with a glare, reaching up to wrap my fingers around the cold steel bars between us. "You'd better let me go, or a whole lot more of those rabid animals will be at your doorstep looking for me," I snarl.

The corner of his mouth ticks up. "Oh, we're counting on it. "

Bile crawls up my throat.

The guy winks at me again, slinking back a step and stooping down to grab the empty beer bottles from the floor, kicking the metal folding chair further away from the bars in the process. "Well, as fun as this was, I should probably go get some sleep," he remarks, putting his back to me as he gathers the bottles in his arms. "You might wanna do the same, I've got a big day planned for us tomorrow."

A shiver runs through me at his insinuation, and he glances back at me over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. "Sweet dreams, Luna."