JESSICA
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Stupid fucking me for thinking Theo ever meant a word he bled.
<b>64 </b>
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I fucking bark when he touches me–low, wet, rabid. It tears straight out of me before I can cage it. I want to bite my tongue off for letting it loose. I want to tear my own fucking throat out before he hears me beg. But my knees are jelly, my arms are jelly, my mouth his.
How can I get out of this ce?
Fuck it.
“You still think I’d fucking share you?” he growls into my jaw, tongue catching my pulse. “After all I’ve bled, torn, broken–to make you mine?”
What?
I barely breathe before he jerks me sideways again, shoulder mming concrete. The hallway is rotted metal and piss stink and I’m barefoot and moving too fast, knees skidding every time he yanks. My arm’s half- dislocated in his grip, but I won’t give him the scream. I won’t.
He’s been dragging me for a minute now. Not saying where. Not slowing. Just breathing harder, like every step closer to wherever he’s taking me is getting him off. My heels slip on rust. My hair catches on a jag of wire hanging from a pipe. There’s blood in my mouth again and I don’t know if it’s new or old.
Where are we? What is this ce?
My knees knock metal. A scream tries to crawl up my throat but it dies the second I see what’s waiting–rows. Bars. And then my eyes widened when I saw what’s happening in front of me.
“What is this?” I choke out, but he doesn’t answer. His breathing’s ragged, like he’s feeding off the chaos.
He yanks me closer, and I stumble. My wrist burns where he holds it.
“Theo,” I hissed, but he didn’t stop. His free hand fists my hair, pulling my head back. “Look,” he growls.
I try to fight, but my body betrays me. My heart hammers, and my skin prickles. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong. But I can’t look away.
He shoves me forward. My palms hit the bars. The cold bites into my skin.
“You wanted to see,” he says, voice low. “Now see.”
I don’t. I don’t want to. But my eyes shift anyway. There’s movement. A shape. Then another. My breath
catches.
My fucking moon goddess!
9:33 Thu, Sep <b>4 </b>
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<b>64 </b>
55 vouchers
He steps closer, his chest pressing into my back. His breath’s hot on my neck. There’s a lot of monstrous things I’m scared of–dark ces, deep growls, the sound of jaws popping out of joint just before the scream. But this–this isn’t fear. This is desecration.
Theo drags me deeper into it like a fucking priest. One hand around my throat now, just firm enough to remind me I breathe when he allows it. The other cranked in my hair like he’s leading livestock <i>to </i>ughter.
The hall stinks like a kennel soaked in blood, shift–sweat, and feral heat. It’s wet. Loud. Breathing. The floor vibrates with groans–too human to be animal, too wrong to be pack.
And then I see them.
Cages. Rows. Cells carved from steel and stink. Figures inside writhing, caught mid–shift, bones bulging under skin, ws half–forged, jaws distended.
One throws herself against the bars, shrieking. Veins ck, face cracked with dried blood, eyes glowing blind. Her scream curls down my spine and I almost puke in fear.
Theo moans. “That one begged me to stop. Until she begged me to keep going.”
The next is worse.
He’s spiked through the throat with silver, twitching but still breathing. His legs are gone. Torn off? Or never formed right? His belly pulses like something’s still inside trying to w out.
I know his scent. Calden. The one who carried the pups out first during the fire. I gag. Theoughs.
“Don’t cry now. You’re the one who made me like this.”
Something drags chains in the corner. The sound rips the air. Scraping metal. Then a snap. Then a howl so low it vibrates my mrs.
I whip toward it, but Theo grabs my jaw, forces me back. “Eyes forward, pretty girl. I want you to see your
miracles.”
The next cage is the worst. A shifting body caught mid–break. Spinal cord twisted, legs bending the wrong way, arms long, fingers wed and wet. His mouth can’t close. His face peeled into a permanent snarl.
“Mate,” it croaks. One ck–veined hand ms the bars. “Maaate.”
It’s Logan.
No! No! No!
My knees hit concrete. I try to crawl, but Theo jerks me up, presses my face to the bars.
“You feel that?” he growls against my neck, grinding his cock against my spine. “They all still know you. Even like this. Especially like this.”
His fingers slide down my stomach, hard and slow. My body convulses with memory and hate.
9:34 Thu, Sep <b>4 </b>
64
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“They shift when they smell you. It gets them halfway there. But then I tear them open and the restes
out.”
Someone sobs. Someoneughs. Someone chews.
The air is thick with heat, piss, fur, bile, burnt nerves, and Theo’s breath as he slides his tongue into the sweat pooling behind my ear.
“You’re not scared of monsters,” he hisses, biting down. “Because you and me? We’re actually making a pack of them.”
My mouth’s open but there’s no breath left. Just rot. Wet fur. Chains grinding. Groans wing up from the concrete like something’s giving birth in the dark.
“You turned them.”
“This,” he growls against my throat, dragging his teeth over my pulse like he’s debating if I even need it, “this is how I worship you.”
I didn’t. I didn’t ask for any of this. This is fucking insane. These are my people. These are Grayson’s pack and yet, there is nothing left to save.
“You did this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my neck. His fingers grip my arm tight enough to bruise. “You turned them.”
“I didn’t—” My voice cracks. I’m choking on the words, the guilt, the fear. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Theo’sugh is low, dark, and it crawls under my skin. “You think you’re innocent? You think you don’t belong here, in the dirt, with us?” His breath is hot, sickly sweet like decay. “You’re already part of this, Jessica. You’ve been part of it since the beginning.”
I shake my head, but he grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are wild, unhinged. “You don’t get to run from this. You don’t get to pretend you’re not as filthy as the rest of us.”
His fingers tighten, and I can’t breathe. “I’ve chased you for this right moment, Jess. Because you, my dear, are going to give me more.” I can feel his teeth graze my neck, sharp and dirty. “We’re gonna build a pack, Jess. A family. And you’re gonna be the center of it. You’re gonna give me what I need–what we need.”
His voice drops to a whisper, but it’s deafening. “You’re gonna be so perfect for me, Jess. So fucking perfect.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I can feel is him–his hands, his breath, his words burrowing into me like poison. “You’re not innocent, Jess. You’re just like me. And you’re gonna prove it.”
Hisugh is short, harsh, and it vibrates through me like a threat. “You’re gonna show me just how filthy you
can be.”
9:34 <b>Thu</b>, Sep 4