The journey was long and agonizing. Every bump in the road sent fresh waves of pain through my silver-burned wrists. The scent of my own fear and the lingering smell of werewolf blood – Trevor's blood – filled the confined space beneath the canvas bag, making it difficult to breathe.
Hours passed, or perhaps days – I lost all sense of time in my dark, painful prison. Finally, the vehicle stopped, and rough hands hauled me out, dumping me unceremoniously onto a cold, metal floor. The impact sent jolts of pain through my already battered body.
Heavy footsteps approached, followed by the sound of a zipper. The bag was yanked from my head, the sudden light blinding me momentarily. I blinked rapidly, my disheveled light brown hair falling across my face as I tried to orient myself.
"Alpha Co
