Chapter 2

The dungeon door slammed shut behind me with a finality that echoed through my bones. I stumbled forward, my hands outstretched to catch myself, but instead found only cold stone walls lined with something that made my skin sizzle on contact.

Silver. They'd lined the entire cell with silver.

I jerked back with a cry as my palm pressed against the metallic surface. The burn was immediate—a searing pain that raced up my arm and sent my healing abilities into a frenzy of useless activity.

"Alpha Vincent wants you to reflect on your betrayal," the guard had said before shoving me inside. "Three days without food or water should give you plenty of time."

I sank to the floor, trying to find a spot where the silver wouldn't touch my skin. There was none. The entire cell was designed to torture werewolves—to weaken us until our wolves retreated deep within.

"Keyla." His voice echoed in my mind—Vincent's voice, using his Alpha command tone even through the walls. "You will pay for what you've done."

I curled into myself, trying to conserve what little strength I had left. The silver burned through my thin clothes, raising angry red welts wherever it touched. My throat was already parched, my stomach cramping with hunger.

"This is insane," I whispered to the darkness. "I didn't do anything wrong."

But no one was listening.

Hours blurred into days. The fever came on the second night—a burning heat that made the silver feel like fire against my skin. I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body fighting against the poison that seeped from the metal into my bloodstream.

In my delirium, I saw him again—the White Wolf from my childhood. His fur gleamed like moonlight as he stood over me, his amber eyes filled with something I couldn't quite understand.

"You're not safe here," he seemed to say, though his mouth never moved. "You never were."

I reached out to touch him, but he faded into the darkness, leaving me alone with the burning silver and my own ragged breathing.

On what must have been the third day, the door finally opened. I squinted against the sudden light, making out two figures silhouetted in the doorway.

"Look at her," Kara's voice dripped with false sympathy. "Poor little healer, reduced to this."

Vincent stepped forward, his face a mask of cold fury. "If you had done your job properly, none of this would have been necessary."

I tried to stand but couldn't find the strength. "I... I did everything right. The silver was out. She was lying—"

"Still making excuses." Vincent knelt beside me, grabbing my jaw with bruising force. "We're going to make sure you can never hurt anyone again."

Kara appeared with a syringe filled with a sickly green liquid. My heart raced as I recognized the color—wolfsbane, but not the diluted kind we used for anesthesia. This was concentrated, dangerous.

"No," I pleaded, struggling against Vincent's grip. "Please don't—"

The needle plunged into my neck. The pain was immediate—a burning that spread through my veins like acid. I screamed as the wolfsbane attacked my system, seeking out the connection between my human side and my wolf.

I felt her retreat—my beautiful, dormant wolf who had never fully awakened. The wolfsbane severed our connection completely, leaving a hollow emptiness where her presence had always been.

"Now you're truly powerless," Vincent said, releasing me as I gasped for breath. "Just like a human."

Kara smiled down at me, her perfect features twisted with satisfaction. "But we're not done yet."

They dragged me out of the cell, my legs dragging uselessly behind me. We entered a room I'd never seen before—sterile and cold, with surgical instruments laid out on a tray.

"Meet Dr. Mercer," Vincent said, gesturing to a thin man with dead eyes. "He's going to help us make sure you remember this lesson forever."

The doctor picked up a scalpel, its edge gleaming in the harsh light. "This will hurt," he said with clinical detachment. "A lot."

Vincent pinned my arms while Kara held my legs. I thrashed wildly but couldn't break free.

"What are you doing?" I sobbed. "Please stop—"

"The silver you removed from Kara," Vincent explained, his voice eerily calm. "We're going to put it back inside you."

The scalpel cut through my shirt and into my flesh—a precise incision across my abdomen. I screamed as the doctor worked methodically, opening me up just enough to access the muscle beneath.

Then came the silver—jagged shards that he pushed into the fresh wound with gloved fingers.

"The silver will move around," he explained to Vincent as he worked. "It will never stop hurting."

The pain was blinding—worse than anything I'd ever experienced. My vision went white as the silver entered my body, burning me from the inside out.

As consciousness began to slip away, I heard Vincent's voice one last time:

"Now you'll know what real pain feels like."