Page 3 of Brutal Alpha's Sold Mate
A door at the far end of the room hisses open, and two of their lackeys drag in a hunched figure—a girl, maybe sixteen. The same girl I saw back in that dilapidated shack. Her matted brown hair hangs in front of her face, and she’s clutching a small vial in trembling hands.
“Do it,” Malcolm commands the girl, shoving her forward.
The girl’s eyes move to me, wide and full of such a range of emotions it’s hard to place just one. Fear. Guilt. Despair. Her fingers shake as she uncorks the vial and approaches, but she doesn’t make eye contact.
“Don’t,” I beg her. “You don’t have to do this.”
“She doesn’t have a choice,” Wiley sneers.
The girl freezes mid-step with the vial hovering inches from my face. “I-I—”
“Enough,” Malcolm snaps, grabbing her wrist and forcing her hand forward. The liquid hits my skin, and the effect is immediate, but when she starts whispering an incantation, I let out an involuntary scream.
A wave of weakness washes over me, sapping the strength from my muscles. My vision swims, and my claws retract even deeper into my skin. It’s like every ounce of fight is being drained from my body, leaving me limp and useless in the chair.
“Bastards,” I manage, though my voice is little more than a rasp.
Malcolm crouches to my level until we’re face to face. “You should’ve stayed out of this, little wolf. But don’t worry. We’ll make good use of you.”
They drag the girl away, leaving me slumped in the chair, my mind racing even as my body refuses to cooperate. Whatever they hit me with, it’s strong. Too strong. But I’m not done yet.
When they leave me alone, I take stock of the room again. It’s designed to hold shifters—no windows, reinforced walls that smell silver under that paint, and the faint buzz of some tech no doubt keeping everything locked tight. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that no cage is perfect.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. The door creaks open, and the girl from before slips inside. Her eyes darted nervously around the room.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper. “If one of those assholes catch you…”
She clutches something in her hands, a small bundle wrapped in cloth. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammers. “I didn’t want to—”
“I know,” I cut her off gently. “It’s not your fault.”
She inches closer, placing the bundle on the floor near my feet. “It’s not much, but… maybe it’ll help.”
I glance at the bundle, then back at her. “Why are you helping me?”
Her gaze drops to the floor. “Because… because if you get out of here, maybe we can help the others. The witches. They’re… they’re hurting them. And no one else is strong enough to stop it.”
“I’ll get out,” I swear without a second thought. “And I’ll make sure they never hurt anyone again.”
She nods back but doesn’t say another word before slipping out the door as quietly as she came.
The bundle contains a small blade and what looks like a crude map of the facility. Not much, but it’s a start. I tuck the blade into the waistband of my pants, mentally cataloging the exits and corridors marked on the map.
The next few hours blur together in a haze of exhaustion and planning. I’ve got one shot at this, and failure isn’t an option.
When Malcolm and Wiley return, I’ll be ready.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I test the strength of the restraints again, my wrists aching from the effort. The lingering effects of the potion keep my wolf subdued, but I refuse to let the panic take over. I need to focus. There’s always a way out. I just have to find it.
Footsteps echo in the hallway outside, followed by low voices. The door creaks open, and Malcolm strides in with his hands casually stuffed in his pockets like this is a damn social call. Wiley follows, carrying a clipboard he barely glances at before tossing it onto a nearby table.
“Enjoying your accommodations?” Malcolm taunts. His eyes sweep over me, taking in the restraints, the steel table, the stillness I force myself to maintain.
“Save it,” I grumble, forcing as much strength into my voice as I can muster. “You want something from me, so stop wasting time.”
He chuckles. “Oh, you’re quick. Fine. Let’s cut to the chase. You’re going to tell us everything about your pack’s plans—how they’re tracking us, what their next move is, all of it.”
“You think I’d ever help you?”
