ELARA'S POINT OF VIEW
The elevator descended.
I watched the floor numbers tick down on the display. Ground level. Basement one. Basement two.
The cells were on basement three.
"You look green," Father observed. He stood beside me, perfectly composed in his tactical gear, silver weapons gleaming at his belt.
"Nervous?"
"No."
"You're lying" But he sounded almost pleased. "Fear is useful. It keeps you sharp. Just don't let it control you."
The elevator doors opened onto a corridor that smelled wrong. My nose wrinkled before I could stop myself. Beneath the antiseptic sting of cleaning chemicals lurked something else. Copper. Ozone. And underneath it all, something wild and organic that made my skin prickle.
Blood and wolf. That's what I was smelling.
Father's boots echoed against concrete as he led me down the hallway. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. The walls were reinforced steel, the doors thick and marked with yellow hazard symbols.
"The cells are silver-lined," Father explained.
"The air filtration system pumps in a low-grade wolfsbane mist. Not enough to kill, but enough to keep them weak. Docile." He stopped at a heavy door at the end of the hall. "Usually."
"This one isn't docile?"
"This one is... stubborn." His hand rested on the access panel. "Three hundred years old, give or take. Beta of one of the strongest packs in North America. He's seen things, done things, that would give you nightmares." His cold eyes met mine. "Don't let him get in your head, Elara. They're masters at manipulation."
"I know."
"Knowing and experiencing are different." He swiped his keycard. The door beeped.
"Remember... he's not human. He's a predator wearing a human face. Every word is a weapon. Every expression is calculated."
The door swung open.
Cold air rushed out, raising goosebumps on my arms. The cell beyond was dimly lit, maybe fifteen feet square. Silver bars divided the space, creating an inner cage. Inside that cage...
My breath stopped.
A man hung from silver chains attached to the ceiling, arms stretched above his head.
Shirtless. The chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, burning into his skin where the metal touched. Smoke rose from the contact points. His head hung forward, dark hair obscuring his face.
He looked dead.
Then his chest expanded with a breath.
"Kael Thornhart," Father announced. "You have a visitor."
The prisoner didn't move.
My heart hammered. I'd expected a monster. Expected something obviously other, clearly dangerous. Not this. Not someone who looked so...
Human wasn't the right word. But I couldn't find a better one.
"He's been here four days," Father said conversationally. "Minimal food. No water for the last twenty-four hours. Silver poisoning setting in. But still, nothing useful." He walked closer to the bars, and I forced myself to follow.
"Today, that changes. My daughter is going to ask you some questions, wolf. I suggest you answer them."
Silence.
Father smiled thinly. "I'll be monitoring from upstairs. The cameras catch everything. Every word. Every movement." He looked at me.
"You have three days to get pack locations. Use whatever tools you need." He gestured to a table against the wall, where silver instruments gleamed next to syringes filled with amber liquid. Wolfsbane concentrate.
"The only rule is he stays breathing until I say otherwise."
He left.
The door closed with a heavy thud that echoed in the small space.
I stood frozen, staring at the prisoner. At the angry red burns where silver bit into his skin. At the old scars crisscrossing his back... marks from previous torture, clearly. At the way his powerful frame still held tension despite obvious weakness.
I should say something. Start the interrogation. Establish dominance.
But my mouth had gone dry.
The prisoner's head lifted slowly.
And my entire world stopped.
His eyes met mine.
Amber. Not brown, not gold... amber, like sunlight through honey. Ancient and aware and fixed on me with an intensity that stripped away every layer of my defenses in a single heartbeat.
Heat exploded through my body. Not gradual... instantaneous. Like touching a live wire. My pulse kicked into overdrive. My skin flushed. My breath came short and fast, and I couldn't look away, couldn't move, couldn't think...
What was happening?
The prisoner's eyes widened. His entire body went rigid, chains rattling. For a split second, his eyes flashed pure gold... not amber, but molten gold.
"No," he whispered. His voice was rough, unused. "Not you. Not here."
The words shattered whatever spell had locked me in place. I stumbled back a step, my hand instinctively reaching for the silver knife at my belt.
"What... what did you do?" My voice came out shakier than I wanted.
He didn't answer. He just stared at me with something like horror on his face. No... not horror. Anguish.
My heart still raced, my skin still burned, and underneath it all, something in my chest pulled toward him like a hook behind my sternum, reeling me in.
"Stop it," I said. "Whatever you're doing, stop."
"I'm not doing anything." His jaw clenched. "I can't do anything. I'm chained in silver and poisoned with wolfsbane. This is..." He cut himself off, looking away. "You need to leave."
"I'm here to interrogate you."
"I know what you're here for." His voice was harsh. "It won't work."
"You don't know what I'll..."
"I know exactly what you'll do." His eyes snapped back to mine, and that pull intensified, stealing my breath. "You'll try to scare me. Hurt me. Break me. Your father's already done all of that. But you?" He laughed, the sound bitter and broken. "You're going to destroy me without even trying."
"I don't understand."
"Good." He closed his eyes, cutting off that connection, and I gasped at the sudden loss.
"Go back upstairs, little hunter. Tell your father I won't talk. Tell him to send someone else. Anyone else."
"I'm not leaving." I forced my legs to move, to carry me closer to the silver bars. My hands trembled, but I kept them at my sides. Professional. In control. "You're going to answer my questions."
"No."
"You don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice." His eyes opened again... still that impossible amber. "Even if every option ends in pain."
I pulled out the tablet Father had given me. Questions already loaded. Pack locations. Hierarchy structures. Safe houses. I cleared my throat. "How many werewolves are in the Silverpine Pack?"
Silence.
"Where is your Alpha's primary residence?"
Nothing.
"Who are your pack's allies? Which other packs do you coordinate with?"
The prisoner... Kael... watched me with an expression I couldn't read. Not defiant. Not blank. Something else. Something that made me want to look away but couldn't.
"This will be easier if you cooperate," I said.
"Easier for who?"
"For you."
He laughed again, shorter this time. "No, it won't. Nothing about this is easy. Not for either of us."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means..." He stopped, shaking his head. The chains clinked with the movement. "Never mind. Ask your questions. I won't answer them, but you can ask."
Frustration heated my cheeks. I'd been warned he was stubborn, but this was different. He wasn't spitting defiance or bravado. He seemed... resigned. Like he'd already accepted something terrible and was waiting for it to happen.
"Fine." I set down the tablet and moved to the table of instruments. My stomach churned, but I picked up a syringe of wolfsbane. "Maybe this will loosen your tongue."
"That will just make me vomit. Possibly blood." Kael's voice was flat. "But it won't make me talk."
"We'll see."
I approached the bars. The cell door had a small opening at the bottom... just wide enough to slide food through. Or to reach in and inject a prisoner.
My hands shook as I knelt.
"You're terrified," Kael observed.
"I'm not..."
"I can hear your heartbeat. It's racing. You're breathing too fast. And your pupils are dilated." He tilted his head. "But not from fear. From something else."
Heat flooded my face. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" His voice dropped lower. "Your scent changed the moment you saw me. And I know you felt it. That pull. That recognition."
"I felt nothing."
"Liar."
My fingers tightened around the syringe. "You're trying to manipulate me. My father warned me you would."
"I'm trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"From the truth you're not ready to hear." His eyes locked on mine again, and god, why did looking at him hurt so much? Why did it feel like coming home and losing everything all at once? "But you'll figure it out eventually. Probably too late, but eventually."
"Stop speaking in riddles."
"I'm not." Kael shifted, and the chains pulled his arms higher. He didn't flinch, even though fresh blood welled where the silver burned deeper. "You really don't know, do you? He didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?"
For a long moment, Kael just looked at me. Really looked, like he was memorizing every detail of my face. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"You feel it too, don't you? That's why you look terrified."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Because he was right. I did feel it. This inexplicable pull, this wrongness in my own skin, this need to get closer even though every rational part of my brain screamed to run.
"I don't know what you mean," I managed.
"Yes, you do." His expression shifted to something almost gentle. Almost sad. "But you're not ready. You've been lied to for too long."
"My father doesn't lie to me."
"Your father has done nothing but lie to you." Kael's voice hardened. "Every day of your life has been a lie, little hunter. And I'm the proof."
"You're insane."
"Probably." He smiled, but there was no humor in it. "Four days of silver poisoning will do that. But I'm not wrong about this." His eyes dropped to my throat, and something in his expression shifted. Hunger. Not for food. Something deeper. "God, you have no idea, do you? No idea what you are. What we are."
"We aren't anything."
"We're everything." His voice broke on the last word. "And it's going to destroy us both."
I backed away from the bars, my heart slamming against my ribs. "You're trying to confuse me. It won't work."
"I'm trying to warn you." Kael's chains rattled as he shifted forward, as close to the bars as he could get. "Go back upstairs. Tell your father I won't break. Tell him to kill me now, because keeping me alive is a mistake."
"Why?"
"Because..." He stopped abruptly, his jaw clenching. "Because I'm dangerous. Because the longer you're near me, the worse this gets. For both of us."
"You're in chains. You're not dangerous to anyone."
"You're wrong." His eyes flashed gold again.
"I'm the most dangerous thing you'll ever meet. Not because of what I could do to you.
Because of what you'll do to yourself trying to save me."
The words hung in the cold air between us.
My mind spun. Nothing he said made sense. Nothing about this made sense. I was supposed to be interrogating him, breaking him, extracting information. Instead, I was standing here trying to decipher cryptic warnings from a prisoner who looked at me like I was both his salvation and his doom.
"My father is watching," I said finally. "He'll know you didn't cooperate."
"I know."
"He'll send someone else. Someone who won't hesitate to use those." I gestured at the instruments on the table.
"I know that too."
"Then why..."
"Because you deserve better than this." Kael's voice was quiet now. "You deserve the truth. You deserve a choice. And being near me takes all of that away."
"I don't understand you."
"You will." He met my eyes one last time, and the intensity there stole my breath. "You're in danger, little hunter. Not from me... from what we are to each other."
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died in my throat.
Because I felt it. That pull. That certainty. That terrible, impossible recognition that whispered: Him. He's the one. He's...
No.
I turned and walked to the door, my hands shaking so badly I could barely swipe my keycard.
Behind me, Kael said softly, "I'm sorry."
The door opened.
I fled.