Land of Wolves

Chapter 24

I'm unable to move. My feet are bound together, and my arms are tied behind my back. The rope bites into my skin, but the pain is nothing new to me. HPAW trained me to be familiar with it, needing me to be strong in the off chance the wolves found my true identity and tortured me for information.

I wiggle my shoulders, trying to understand just how much movement they have.

Not much.

That's less than ideal.

Laughter surrounds me, but I can't see anything in the dark room. I'm lying on a hard floor, and I cry and wiggle some more when a hand wraps around my ankle.

"She's a fighter, isn't she?" a man laughs.

My body grows cold.

I've heard that voice before. I've heard that line.

There are three men, I realize that now, and no amount of screaming makes them stop. It only seems to spur them on more, and just when I think it can't get any worse, I'm blinded by a bright light and staring into the masked faces of HPAW scientists.

They hover over my naked body, and I look to my left and right, trying to understand what's happening. Where am I? What are they doing to me?

I try to scream as they bring the scalpel to my skin, but the gag in my mouth prevents much noise from getting out. Why are they doing this to me? Every cut they make burns, and tears stream down the sides of my cheeks as they turn to a camera and speak about my healing rate.

They joke amongst themselves but never once look directly at me. It's like I'm not even a person in their eyes—just some object they are testing on.

I don't heal, and I'm not a wolf, but they don't seem to notice or care as they bring out larger and larger blades. Every slice makes me scream, and I rip at the rope that ties me down when they bring out the saw and grab hold of my leg.

No.

No.

I scream and slap at the hands on my shoulders, desperate to get away. The room I'm in is dark, and I kick my feet and turn to bite at the man holding me down.

He moves before I make contact, his voice loud as he shouts my name and shakes my shoulders.

"Don't touch me!" I cry, once more trying to pull away. "Don't fucking touch me!"

The hand is removed seconds before the lamp beside my bed turns on, and I feel my body calming as I realize I'm in the guest room.

I'm in the guest room.

Blood rushes through my ears as I look up and meet Caleb's panicked expression. His eyes trail down my frame, checking for any signs of injury before he sighs and drops into the chair pushed against the wall.

He's naked, clearly having run in here the second he heard what I'm assuming was me screaming.

I sit up, my heart still beating a thousand miles a minute. What a horrid nightmare.

"I shouldn't have made you watch those videos," Caleb says, breaking the silence.

His words no longer slur, and a glance at the clock tells me it's been a few hours since he locked himself in his room. Wolves probably process alcohol faster than us. They do everything better than we do.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it myself," I admit.

A small part of me would've always doubted, but now I'm confident everything Caleb said was true. I was a fool to believe HPAW blindly, and even more of one to never even consider the possibility of Caleb being the good guy.