Chapter 2: The wolf in the cage

Isla's POV

The silver cuffs burned my wrists as the car carried me through the dark, and the pain was sharp and constant, but I welcomed it. Because it helped me remember who I was, and it helped me hold on to the anger that had kept me alive for twelve years.

The car had silver-lined windows, and the metal kept my wolf quiet. I sat in the back with my hands cuffed in front of me, and I watched the city disappear through the glass. The buildings got shorter, and the lights got dimmer, and then there was nothing but desert, sky, and the moon that was still red, and still watching.

The silence pressed against the windows, and the smell of the dry earth crept in through the vents, and suddenly I was thirteen again.

I was thirteen years old, and the night smelled like rain. My mother, Sofia Torres, had silver eyes that glowed in the dark, and she had been teaching me about the moon and the magic in our blood.

That night, she went into the forest, and I followed. I heard her arguing with someone, and the voice was a woman's, sharp and cold and familiar, but I could not place it. Then there were screams, and then silence.

I woke up standing over my mother's body with blood on my hands and no memory of what happened. Her silver eyes were open, staring at nothing, and her blood was everywhere.

My father looked at me like I was a monster, and the pack looked at me like I was a monster. They wanted to execute me, but my father was the Alpha, and he chose exile instead.

"Never come back," he said. "Never let them find you."

He gave me a bag of clothes and a hundred dollars, and he pushed me across the border.

I opened my eyes, and the desert was gone.

We were in the city now, and tall buildings of glass and steel rose around me. The air smelled different here, like money and power and wolves. I was no longer in hiding, and I was walking into their den.

The car stopped, and the door opened. The silver burned my wrists as Marco pulled me out, and I blinked against the bright lights.

The compound rose in front of me like a fortress, with walls of dark stone and gates that looked like they could stop an army. Wolves in uniform stood at attention, and their eyes flicked to me before looking away.

This was Valdoro, the most powerful pack in the region, and I was its new Luna.

They did not take me to a suite, and they did not take me to a room with soft beds and warm food either. They took me to a cell. It was clean, with white walls and a white floor, and there was a single cot in the corner, and the door was solid steel.

Marco uncuffed me, and the silver fell away. My wolf surged forward so fast that I almost shifted, but I held her back with everything I had.

"Wait here," Marco said, and then he left.

I sat on the cot, and I waited. I did not know how long. It could have been hours, or it could have been a day. The moon moved across the small window high in the wall, and I watched it. I thought about my mother, and I thought about the man who died in my clinic. I thought about the child I had been, and the woman I had become.

Then the door opened.

The man who walked through it filled the space like a storm. He was tall, much taller than Marco, and he was taller than any wolf I had seen. He had broad shoulders, and his dark hair fell across his forehead like he had been running his hands through it. A scar ran from his left temple to his jaw, pale against his skin.

And his eyes?

His eyes were golden-brown, and when they landed on me, something inside my chest cracked open. My wolf knew him before my mind did, and the bond slammed into me like a wave. I felt him, and I felt his wolf rising to meet mine. His breath caught, and his hands clenched at his sides. I could see that he felt it too, and I knew that he did.

"No," I told my wolf. "Not him. Not now."

But his face did not change. It was cold and controlled, like I was nothing.

He walked to me as I sat frozen on the cot, and he tilted my chin up with one finger. He studied my face like he was memorizing my flaws.

"You are smaller than I expected," he said. His voice was low and rough. "The blood of Sierra Luna was supposed to be... more."

I did not speak, because I could not. My wolf was howling inside me, and she was screaming at me to submit. She wanted me to crawl to him and bare my throat, but I fought her with everything I had.

He released my chin, and he turned his back.

"You will be presented to my pack tomorrow as my Luna, and as for preparation, a woman named Consuela will be sent to assist you get ready," he said as he walked toward the door. "Tomorrow at the presentation, you will smile, and you will curtsy. You will not speak unless I tell you to. If you embarrass me, I will make your life here so unbearable that you will beg to be sent back to your human gutter."

He reached the door, and he paused. "Are we understood?"

My wolf snarled, but my voice came out steady.

"I understand that you need me for something," I said.

He turned, and his eyes narrowed.

I stood up even though my legs were shaking.

"You would not have paid my father's price if you did not," I said. "So let us stop pretending that you are the predator here, Alpha."

I met his gaze, and I held it.

"We both know that I am not the one who is desperate."

For a moment, just a brief and almost unnoticeable moment, something flickered in his eyes. It could have been respect, or it could have been recognition. It might have been surprise that a wolf as small as me would dare to speak to him that way.

Then it was gone.

He left without another word, and the door closed behind him. I was alone again.

I sat back on the cot, and my wolf was still screaming. She was still clawing and still reaching for him, but I forced her down. I had survived twelve years alone. I had slept in alleys and eaten from garbage cans, and I had patched up my own wounds with stolen supplies. I would survive this too, because I always did.

I pressed my hand to my chest, and I stared at the steel door.

"I will never beg you for anything."

But even as I said it, I felt the bond pulsing between us, and I knew that the war had only just begun.