Chains and Shadows
The steady creak of wheels and the rhythmic clop of hooves dragged me out of the darkness.
For a moment, I refused to open my eyes, clinging to that thin veil of nothingness where pain didn't exist. But consciousness clawed its way back, heavy and relentless, like water filling my lungs. My skull throbbed with every heartbeat, a pounding ache that seemed to reverberate through bone and marrow, dull but merciless. The world felt distant, muffled.
Then the scent hit me.
Smoke. Leather. Sweat.
And silver.
My stomach twisted. My eyes flew open.
The world swayed violently around me, making my vision swim. I was lying on my side in the belly of a wagon. Its wooden walls leaned close, rough-hewn and splintered, pressing the air into something suffocating. It reeked of too many bodies crammed in too small a space. The smell of sweat clung to the wet boards, layered with the sour bite of smoke and blood.
But worse than all of it was the silver.
Thick cuffs gripped my wrists, the metal came searing into my skin with a steady, burning pulse. I could almost hear it, the low hiss of poison sliding beneath my skin, leeching my strength, pulling it out strand by strand until my wolf felt like a shadow pressed against a wall, powerless. Chains rattled when I tried to move, their weight dragging against the wooden floor. Each shift sent a hot sting up my arms, as though the shackles enjoyed reminding me who held power now.
Across from me, three warriors lounged on benches bolted to the wagon's sides. Bloodfang. Their scent was unmistakable, even if I had my nose stuffed with cotton wool, I would always smell the evil stench. Their armor was scuffed and dull, dried blood stains crusting in dark patches that no polishing could ever erase. They were comfortable here, in this stinking cage, as though it was simply another hunt finished, another trophy caught.
One of them noticed my stirring.
"Look who's awake," he drawled. His voice carried a cruel amusement that scraped like gravel. A grin split his face wide enough to reveal the broken stump of a canine. The scar that carved down his cheek tugged grotesquely with the motion, a permanent reminder of some battle he'd survived.
The others laughed. It wasn't the kind of laughter that held warmth or joy. It was sharp-edged, serrated. The sound of predators who had already tasted victory, letting me know I was their entertainment now.
"Pretty thing for a Silvermist wolf," another said, his gaze crawling over me like grease left on skin. His armor creaked as he leaned forward with his elbows braced on his knees. "No wonder the Alpha came for her himself."
Heat flared in my chest. Anger, shame, defiance, they twisted together, a knot that threatened to choke me. I forced my chin higher, locking my gaze to his without letting it flicker.
"Touch me," I said, with a low but deliberate voice, the words scraping raw from my throat, "and you'll be eating through a straw for the rest of your miserable life."
For a heartbeat, silence hung. Then Scar-face threw his head back and barked a laugh, harsh and grating.
"She's got bite," he said, slapping the bench beside him. "You'll need more than teeth to survive Bloodfang territory, sweetheart."
I refused to look away. Even chained, weakened, I wouldn't give them that satisfaction. My wolf snarled faintly inside me, a muffled growl beneath the silver's smothering weight. She hated this as much as I did.
Then a shadow fell across the wagon's entrance. And that was it, the flap was lifted.
Every laugh died instantly, smothered as if the air had been sucked from the room.
It was Kael, he stepped inside.
He didn't glance at the others, didn't need to. His presence alone forced silence, a gravity that bent everything around him. The dim light filtering through the flap caught in his eyes, turning them molten gold. His black hair was tousled from the night's battle, stray strands falling over his brow, but nothing about him was careless. His armor bore scuffs and scratches, yet on him, they looked deliberate, like marks of dominance rather than weakness. He carried himself like a blade, honed and controlled, every movement he too was calculated and precise.
Then... his gaze found mine.
It wasn't the burning, possessive look I had braced for, the kind of raw hunger the mate bond was supposed to ignite. Instead, it was unreadable, as though I were some puzzle he hadn't yet decided whether to solve or toss into the fire.
We didn't speak.
The wagon wheels creaked, filling the silence. My pulse thudded hard enough to echo in my ears, a frantic beat that betrayed me. I wanted to demand answers. Why had he taken me? Why hadn't he killed me back at Silvermist? Why, even now, that invisible thread between us kept pulling and unyielding, humming through my veins.
But the words that left my lips were different.
"If you think chaining me will keep me quiet," I said, forcing steel into my voice, "you're wrong."
Something flickered in his eyes, quick as lightning. His mouth curved, not quite a smile, not really, but the ghost of one.
"Good," he said softly. "Quiet wolves are boring."
And just like that, he turned. No warning, no explanation. He ducked back out of the wagon with the flap falling closed behind him.
The air loosened once he was gone, but the warriors still watched me with predator's patience, like vultures circling something that wasn't dead enough yet.
I pressed my back to the wall, the wood was rough against my shoulders, and I closed my eyes. My breaths came slow, forced, pushed past the tightness clawing in my chest. My wolf was also as restless inside me as I was out here, raking claws against the silver's poison, snarling for freedom. But she was trapped too, bleeding strength into the cuffs until all that remained was fury.
The wagon jolted suddenly, hitting a rut deep enough to throw one of the warriors sideways. He cursed, shoving himself upright with a scowl. Then he leaned toward the man beside him, lowering his voice.
"Did you hear?"
The other's mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. "About the Alpha's little plan? Yeah."
I forced my eyes half-lidded, feigning disinterest. My ears strained, every sense sharpening despite the silver's dulling weight.
"He's gonna take her straight to the stronghold," Scar-face said, his voice pitched low but not nearly low enough. "Right into the heart of Bloodfang territory."
"And then?" the third prodded, eyes gleaming with sick delight.
"Then he's gonna parade her in front of the whole pack," Scar-face answered with satisfaction thick in his tone. "Let everyone see the Silvermist girl, an omega who thought she could stand against him. Break her in front of his people."
Laughter rumbled through the wagon again, muted and cruel.
The wagon hit another rut, jolting hard enough that my chains clinked softly against the floor. But it wasn't enough to shake the ice sliding down my spine.
Break me. Parade me like some prize for his wolves.
I curled my hands into fists, ignoring the burn as the cuffs bit deeper into my skin. The sting only sharpened my resolve. If Kael thought he could drag me before his pack and make me bow, he didn't know me at all.
Let him try.