Alpha's Sacrificial Human Bride
CHAPTER SEVEN
Liora didn't sleep for the next forty-eight hours.
Not because they were torturing her—they'd stopped that. She didn't sleep because she couldn't. Her mind had fractured into something new, something that ran on pure obsession and cold fury. The laptop screen glowed blue in the dimness of her cage, casting shadows across her hollow face as she worked through the night.
Files. Footage. Forensics. She consumed it all with mechanical precision.
The photographs she'd arranged now covered nearly every inch of the cage floor, connected by strings of torn fabric from her ruined dress, creating a web of connections only she could see. Timestamps written on scraps of paper. Entry angles calculated on the margins of folders. Blood spatter patterns sketched on napkins.
She barely ate. Drank only when her hands started shaking too badly to type.
