Chapter 6

Riley

I dragged my tongue across my cracked, dry lips, the metallic taste of blood lingering there as I watched him—this human who held me captive in this damn basement. I still didn’t know his name, and I couldn’t decide if he was keeping that detail from me to protect himself…or to keep me guessing. But I knew one thing for certain: I was hungry. Starving, really, and my stomach growled loud enough that even he noticed.

“I’m hungry,” I snapped, watching his gaze narrow, sharpening like he could see right through me.

“Tell me everything. Are there more of you coming for me?” His voice was hard, clipped. The way he looked at me, you’d think I’d already slit his throat.

A sigh slipped out of me as I sank back, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold floor, legs stretched out in front of me. I winced as pain shot through my side, my wound throbbing from even that slight movement. Damn them. My pack had injected me with wolfsbane before they’d released me, left me half-drugged and bleeding to be hunted down like prey and now, I couldn’t heal properly.

“Look, the only people who would be coming are my pack,” I ground out, glancing up at him from beneath my lashes, my voice low and hard. “And they’re coming for me.” I shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position, and the chains around my ankle clanked against the concrete. I scowled. “If they find me here with you, they’ll kill you to get to me. No questions asked. You’ll be dead before you know what hit you.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t show even a hint of fear. Instead, I saw those wheels start turning in his head again as he eyed me, calculating, weighing his options like he was working through some fucking puzzle.

“I don’t trust you. You could tell them that you found me,” he said, his voice as cold and sharp as the chain digging into my ankle.

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my anger at bay. “Look, human, I don’t even know who the hell ‘them’ is,” I growled. “If you’re talking about another pack, they’d rip me to pieces if I so much as stepped near their territory.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head, dismissing me without a second thought, his gaze filled with a kind of smug arrogance that made my blood boil.

I slammed my hand down on the concrete, the sound of the walls of the basement. “I don’t know what twisted version of werewolves you’ve got in your head, but it’s obvious you don’t know a damn thing.” My voice rose, desperate. “I don’t know what you think they promised you, but I’m not the enemy here.”

Still, he stared at me with that same blank expression, not a single emotion flickering across his face. And then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the stairs, his footsteps loud.

“Wait! Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here, you asshole!” I yelled after him, but my words were met with the sharp sound of the basement door slamming shut. The locks clicked into place, one by one, sealing me in, cutting off any hope I had that he might listen to me—that he might let me go.

I stared up at the staircase, my fists clenched until my nails dug into my palms. I began to panic, but I forced it down, forced myself to breathe. If my pack didn’t find me first—and kill me, if no one came…then I was going to die down here. Alone.

——

He didn’t come back the next day…or the day after that. Not that I could be sure how much time had passed. Down here, in this hellish dungeon, every hour felt like a damn eternity. The walls, thick concrete, were as cold as the silence that surrounded me, unbreakable, unmoving, just… there. I’d tried to break the chains, yanked and pulled at the chains tying me to the wall until my wrists were raw and bloody. But nothing budged. The silver surrounded me, dulled my senses, poisoned my blood.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

Finally, on what I guessed was the third or fourth day—I couldn’t tell anymore—the door opened. Light spilled down the stairs, and even though I hated to admit it, the sight of him coming down, of someone to talk to, even if it was him, made my heart stutter.

“You’re back,” I said, forcing myself to sound nonchalant as I eyed the bowl he carried.

He stopped halfway down the stairs, gaze flicking from me to the chains around my wrists and ankles, then back to my face. “It’s my house,” he said, shrugging, like my presence here didn’t mean anything to him, like I wasn’t chained up in his damn basement.

Bastard.

I shifted to my knees, the movement pulling at the wound in my side. The injury had healed enough that I could move without wanting to scream, but the silver chains clinked against my wrists and ankles, rubbing my skin raw, making it itch and burn. Sooner or later, the silver would start to break down my flesh, sinking into my blood, slowly killing me from the inside out.

He dropped the bowl of noodles on the floor between my legs and moved away, pulling on a pair of red boxing gloves as he positioned himself in front of a sandbag in the corner.

I picked up the bowl, sniffed it. It smelled good—too good, considering how damn hungry I was. But poison? Would it even matter? I dug in, slurping the hot broth, savoring the warmth spreading through me.

“You know this silver could kill me,” I said between mouthfuls, watching his back as he pummeled the sandbag with vicious precision.

“That’s the plan,” he replied, barely missing a beat.

My fingers tightened around the bowl, my mind racing. “So why not do it now?” I asked, staring at him over the rim of the bowl. “Just kill me and be done with it.”

He stopped mid-punch, chest heaving, a dark look covering his face as he turned to face me. His blue eyes were stormy, his mouth set in a thin, grim line.

“Because I’m not a murderer,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “like your kind.” His words were loaded, a double-edged threat I didn’t need to dig into to understand.

I met his stare, refusing to back down. “But you would if you had to?”

He didn't answer right away. For a moment, the basement was silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. Then he took a step toward me, his face unreadable, his gaze dark and steady.

"Yes."