The door slammed open without warning.
Heavy boots scraped across stone as a group of men filed into the freezing cell. The torches in the hallway cast their shadows like claws across the floor. Opal stood quickly, her back straight against the far wall, heart thundering, jaw tight.
She knew that walk.
She knew that scent.
And she knew the man leading them was here to break her.
Alpha Marcus stepped into view, his posture loose with confidence, his smile tight and dripping with amusement. He wore the scent of power like cologne—cloying, suffocating. Behind him, two guards lingered like wolves waiting to be loosed.
Opal didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe deep enough to give him the satisfaction of her fear.
Alpha Marcus regarded her with a cold, calculating gaze. "You can end this now," he said evenly. "Come back willingly, and I might be persuaded to show leniency."
Opal squared her shoulders, her violet eyes blazing with defiance. "I won't be your prisoner," she spat. "Not now, not ever."
A flicker of annoyance crossed his features. "Very well. Have it your way."
At his subtle nod, two of his guards emerged from the shadows, their forms shifting from wolf to human as they approached. Muscular and imposing, they moved with predatory grace, eyes fixed on Opal like wolves circling prey.
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," one of them warned, his voice a low growl.
Opal's heart pounded, but she refused to show fear. She settled into a defensive stance, her training taking over. "You should have brought more men," she challenged.
The guards exchanged a brief glance before lunging simultaneously. Opal reacted with lightning speed, ducking under the first guard's swing and delivering a sharp elbow to his ribcage. He grunted, stumbling back as the air rushed from his lungs.
The second guard advanced, throwing a series of rapid punches. Opal parried each blow, her movements fluid and precise. She countered with a swift kick to his knee, causing him to falter.
The first guard recovered, charging at her with renewed aggression. Opal spun out of his reach, using his momentum against him. She grabbed his arm and flipped him over her shoulder, the thud of his body hitting the ground echoing through the clearing.
For twenty grueling minutes, the battle raged on. The guards were relentless, but Opal fought with a fierce determination fueled by her need for freedom and the thought of reuniting with her brothers. Her body moved on instinct—every punch, kick, and dodge a testament to years of disciplined training.
But the toll of the fight began to weigh on her. Fatigue seeped into her muscles, her breaths growing more labored. The cut on her head throbbed, a constant reminder of her vulnerability. Blood trickled down, blurring her vision slightly.
The first guard lunged again, and though Opal managed to sidestep, he grazed her arm, leaving a shallow cut. She winced but didn't falter. Summoning her remaining strength, she delivered a powerful roundhouse kick that connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling unconscious to the ground.
The second guard hesitated, wariness creeping into his eyes as he witnessed his companion's defeat. Opal seized the moment, launching herself forward and striking with precision. A well-placed punch to his temple and a sweep of his legs brought him down. He hit the ground hard, his head lolling to the side as darkness claimed him.
Breathing heavily, Opal stood over the fallen guards, her vision swimming. She wiped a hand across her forehead, smearing blood across her skin. The world tilted slightly, and she steadied herself against a nearby tree.
A slow clap broke the silence.
"Impressive," Alpha Marcus drawled, stepping forward from the shadows. "I underestimated you."
Opal glared at him, her chest heaving. "It's over, Marcus. Let me go."
He chuckled softly. "Oh, it's far from over."
More guards emerged—four this time—their expressions grim and determined. Opal's heart sank, but she refused to back down.
"You can still surrender," Alpha Marcus offered. "Save yourself the pain."
She shook her head defiantly. "I'll never surrender to you."
One of the new guards sneered. "Have it your way."
They advanced as a unit, spreading out to encircle her. Opal took a deep breath, centering herself despite the exhaustion threatening to consume her. She focused on their movements, searching for any opening.
The first guard struck, throwing a heavy punch. Opal ducked, countering with a swift jab to his side. Another guard grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms. She struggled, kicking out at a third who approached.
"Hold her still!" one of them barked.
Opal stomped hard on the foot of the guard restraining her, causing him to loosen his grip. She twisted free, but a sharp blow to her stomach from another sent her reeling. Pain radiated through her, but she grit her teeth, refusing to yield.
They pressed their advantage, overwhelming her with coordinated attacks. She fought valiantly, landing blows where she could, but her strength was waning. A punch connected with her jaw, snapping her head to the side. Stars exploded in her vision.
Two guards grabbed her arms, wrenching them behind her back. She thrashed, but their grip was ironclad. Another guard approached, binding her wrists with rough rope.
"Let me go!" she shouted, her voice hoarse.
Alpha Marcus approached slowly, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You fought bravely, Opal. Admirably, even. But this is the end of the line."
She glared at him, her eyes burning with fury. "You'll regret this."
He raised an eyebrow. "Will I? From where I'm standing, it seems I've just secured a valuable asset."
He gestured to the unconscious guards on the ground. "I must admit, you've cost me some good men tonight. Quite a feat for someone as... diminutive as yourself."
One of the guards holding her snickered. "She's a wild one, that's for sure."
Alpha Marcus regarded her thoughtfully. "Such spirit. It's almost a shame."
Opal met his gaze unflinchingly. "You won't get away with this. My brothers will come for me."
He tilted his head. "Perhaps. But by the time they find you, it will be too late."
She felt a chill at his words. "What do you want with me?"
He smiled thinly. "It's not what I want, but rather what I can gain. You see, there are those who would pay handsomely for someone like you."
Realization dawned on her. "You're handing me over to Azeala."
"Very astute," he confirmed. "An alliance with her will secure my pack's future. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good."
"You're a coward," she spat. "Selling out an ally's daughter for your own gain."
His eyes hardened. "Careful, girl. You're in no position to judge."
He stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back. "You know, it's exhausting having to walk around this pack, keeping up appearances. But down here…" He glanced around the dark cell. "Down here, I don't have to pretend."
He stopped just a foot in front of her, eyes scanning her face like he owned it.
"I've been generous," he said, almost conversational. "Haven't I?"
Opal didn't answer.
Marcus's smile sharpened. "I've kept my hands to myself. Let you stew in your little cage. Let you pretend you have a choice."
His voice dropped, almost gentle.
"But in seventeen days, you won't be a child anymore. And werewolf law is very clear. Once you're eighteen, a dominant may claim an unmated she-wolf… with or without her consent."
Opal's stomach twisted.
"You won't get the chance," she said, her voice tight with rage. "Kael will come. My brothers—"
Marcus laughed.
It wasn't a full laugh. It was short. Cold. Dismissive.
"No one's coming for you," he said.
Opal surged forward, her hands balling into fists. "I'm not afraid of you."
He backhanded her before the guards could react.
She stumbled but didn't fall. A sharp bloom of pain lit her cheek. Her vision blurred. The crack echoed in the stone room like a thunderclap.
But when she looked up, she was still standing.
Still glaring.
Marcus's face twitched.
The guards moved forward—one grabbing her wrist, the other catching her shoulder, forcing her back against the wall. She struggled, but their grip was iron.
Marcus leaned in close, close enough that his breath fanned across her neck.
"I'm counting the days," he whispered. "Seventeen. And when that day comes? I won't have to hold back. No laws to stop me. No protections. Just you. And me. Then when I am done having fun, I will give your broken form over to Azeala."
Opal spat in his face.
For a moment, the room stilled.
Marcus's smile dropped.
He wiped his cheek slowly and then, to her revulsion, began to laugh.
"Oh, you'll break," he said softly. "They all do eventually."
He turned to leave, but not before looking over his shoulder with a smirk. "Sleep well, little wolf. Seventeen nights left."
The guards shoved her down roughly onto the stone floor. One of them snorted and said, "Stupid girl. Should've been grateful for the attention."
Then they were gone.
The door slammed shut.
Opal didn't move.
Her skin crawled where they'd touched her. Her cheek ached. Her wrists throbbed.
But her soul?
She closed her eyes, taking slow, measured breaths. *Hold on,* she told herself. *Your brothers are out there. They won't abandon you.*
Reaching up, she felt the charm bracelet still on her wrist—the only connection she had to her family. The crescent moon charm pressed against her skin, a small beacon of hope.
In the silence of the cell, Opal made a silent vow. No matter what came next, she would not give up. She would find a way to escape, to warn her brothers about the betrayal of the Briarcliff Pack and the looming threat of Azeala.
As she leaned back against the cold wall, exhaustion finally overtook her. Her eyes drifted closed, but her resolve remained unbroken.
The night was far from over, and Opal knew that the real battle had only just begun.