3
1911 Words
Just then, a shadow moved.
An older criminal, his face half-hidden by matted hair and years of pain, shuffled toward Maya. His eyes glinted with something different—hunger, yes—but not for flesh.
He stopped just an inch away, his skin hissing like water on hot iron as the silver chain around his ankle burned into his leg. The scent of seared flesh filled the air, and he winced, but didn’t back away.
“Damn chains,” he rasped. “Can’t even touch what the beauty herself dropped in this shithole.”
Maya flinched.
She wasn’t sure if his tone was reverent or perverse, but either way, he couldn’t get to her. None of them could.
All around her, the other criminals shifted and growled, their chained limbs pulling against the silver restraints.
Their eyes devoured her body—hungry, feral, restrained only by a cruel twist of metal and magic. If not for the spacing of the chains, if not for the searing silver, they would’ve torn into her by now.
The unease pressed against her skin like a hand choking her throat.
She kept her chin up, but inside, her wolf paced and whimpered, furious at being cornered and helpless.
The older male leaned closer, just shy of the burn radius. His voice was gravel soaked in secrets.
“You wanna get outta here?” he murmured. “I got somethin’... but you better be faster than your pretty face makes you look.”
Maya blinked, her mind reeling, but before she could speak—
A low growl echoed through the dungeon.
The rest of the criminals began mumbling—soft, bitter groans of hunger and resentment that filled the air like a slow-building storm.
Then finally, the heavy iron door groaned open. Guards entered carrying trays of food—trays that smelled like sour meat and boiled grains. But in this pit, even rotten food was a luxury.
One by one, plates were placed before the prisoners—except for her.
Maya didn’t even flinch when they passed her by. “Alpha Rio’s orders,” one guard said with a snort. “No food for the whore.”
Her stomach clenched, but she showed no weakness. Not anymore.
Instead, she tilted her neck slightly, baring her beautiful shoulder as she shifted into a more comfortable position. Her skin shimmered under the dungeon torchlight—dirty, bruised, but undeniably gorgeous.
Maya may have lost her scent, but not her beauty.
The younger of the two guards—barely older than twenty—froze. His eyes locked on her exposed collarbone, the elegant dip of her neck, the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
He licked his lips.
“You’re staring, dumbass,” the older guard muttered, elbowing him hard in the ribs. “Keep it in your f*****g pants.”
The younger man blinked, torn between shame and lust. “She’s just... look at her, though.”
“I said keep moving.” The older one coughed and yanked the boy by his collar. “We’re not dying over some prisoner pussy.”
They slammed the iron gate shut and locked it. As they walked away, Maya heard their voices trailing off.
“She’s wasted in that cell,” the young guard said. “f**k, she doesn’t even look like a criminal.”
“Yeah,” the older one grunted. “But I wouldn’t risk Alpha Rio’s wrath. He’s already gone mental over her.”
Their voices disappeared into the distance. Maya heard them laugh. Talk about partying. Music would play in the main hall tonight. As always.
The guards were off to get drunk, high, or laid. No one would check the dungeon again till morning.
The moment the silence fell, Maya turned to the older criminal. “Did you get anything?” she whispered, heart pounding.
He grinned, and it wasn’t a nice smile. It was a smile cracked by years of surviving hell.
He reached into the rags around his waist and pulled out a dull, rusted dagger—half-bent, but still sharp enough to slice.
“I’ve been waiting for the right night,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Looks like tonight’s got the right kind of chaos.”
Maya crawled closer, pain screaming through her knees, but she didn’t give a s**t. She extended her chained leg toward him.
His hands trembled as he held the dagger.
The moment he touched the silver around her ankle, smoke rose from his palms. The smell of burning skin hit the air again. He hissed between clenched teeth but kept cutting.
“Fuck... this... damn... cursed... thing!” he growled.
Maya bit her lip, her heart pounding, until—
Click.
The shackle fell off.
Relief bloomed in her chest like a firework. She flexed her foot, then grabbed the dagger from him.
“Thank you,” she breathed, eyes wide with disbelief.
She limped to the gate and began working at the lock. Her hands were shaking, her palms slick with sweat, but she kept going. Again. Again. Until—
Clink.
The gate creaked open.
Her breath caught in her throat. She turned back to the other prisoners.
“Come with me,” she said urgently. “We can escape together. You helped me—I can help you. We can be free.”
There was silence.
Then, one by one, the prisoners shook their heads.
“No debts outside,” one muttered. “Only death.”
Another scoffed. “You think I wanna go back to my pack? My own f*****g brother sold me out.”
“I got no one out there,” said a third. “In here, I got a bed and two meals a day. That’s paradise compared to what’s out there.”
Maya stared at them, stunned. “You’d rather rot here?”
“It’s not rotting if you were already dead before you came in.”
That shut her up.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her gaze softening.
She looked at these men—not as criminals, not as monsters—but as broken wolves with broken pasts.
And maybe... maybe they weren’t the villains her pack painted them to be.
Maybe the real monsters were still walking free. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I thought this place held the worst of us.”
One of the older men smiled faintly. “It does. But sometimes the worst got that way trying to survive.”
Maya nodded slowly. Her voice cracked as she said, “When I get my life back... I’ll return. I’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.”
She turned to the one who had freed her. Her savior in rags.
She handed him the dagger carefully, the metal still warm from her grip.
“Take care of yourself,” she said.
He nodded, and his smile was just a little softer this time.
“Run, girl,” he said. “And don’t look back.”
Maya didn’t look back.
She slipped into the darkness, barefoot, and half-naked.
Her heart thudded like war drums in her chest, matching every cautious footstep she took on the cold stone floor.
The air outside the dungeon was warmer, but it didn't soothe her—if anything, it made the sting of betrayal settle deeper in her bones.
She kept low, sticking to the shadows, her limbs aching, her hair sticking to her sweat-soaked skin. She didn’t know if it was the fear or the rage that kept her moving.
Maya's mind raced.
Gaia. That b***h had done something, no doubt about it. The way she played innocent while Maya was dragged, chained, humiliated—She’ll pay for that s**t.
Maya could already picture her claws slicing through Gaia’s fake pretty face, make her confess with blood.
But then… she stopped.
Father.
Elder James.
Maya’s chest tightened.
He was more than just her father. He was an Elder of the pack. The only one she truly believed still had his soul intact. He wasn’t easily manipulated. Not by titles, not by seduction, not by dark magic.
If anyone could smell truth through lies—it was him.
“Scarlett?” Maya whispered to her wolf, reaching inward.
There was a weak stir.
A low growl rumbled in her mind, barely audible. Scarlett didn’t speak. She didn’t fight. She felt distant, like she was trapped in some void, chained deeper than even Maya had been.
Maya placed a trembling hand over her stomach.
“Don’t worry, Scarlett,” she whispered aloud. “You’ll be freed. I swear to the Goddess, we’ll both be free.”
She pushed forward, her bare feet silent as she snuck through the corridors like a whisper in a war zone.
The hallway curved toward the back of the packhouse—toward the bar.
Of course.
Elder James’s favorite haunt. He’d go there every night like clockwork, drowning in aged whiskey and sorrow, murmuring stories to the ghosts of his past. It was the only place in the entire estate where Maya believed she could speak to him without guards hovering.
But as she crept closer, the hum of voices stopped her.
She ducked into a nearby alcove, heart hammering.
Laughter.
Drunken cheers.
The strong scent of werewolves and alcohol drifted into her nose, making her wrinkle it.
“…Gaia deserves this. Goddess, she saved our asses!” a woman laughed. “If she hadn’t exposed that intruder, who knows what damage that traitorous b***h would’ve done?”
“I heard she was f*****g Alpha Rio behind everyone’s back. Nasty little thing pretending to be our Beta,” another man said, his voice oozing with venom. “No wonder she has no scent. She’s a disgrace.”
“I’m glad we get to celebrate her exile during mating season. It’s poetic,” someone else added.
“I heard Elder James even rejected her—”
“Shut the f**k up!” another voice growled. “Don’t speak that around him unless you want your damn throat ripped out.”
Maya's blood turned to ice.
The bile rose in her throat as the lies hit her like knives—twisting deeper with each laugh, each careless word. She didn’t know what hurt more—the false accusations or the fact that they believed them.
They praised Gaia like she was some f*****g saint.
That manipulative, black-hearted little slut. She had taken everything. Her place. Her honor. And these assholes were throwing her a f*****g parade for it.
Maya clenched her fists so tight her nails pierced her own skin.
Her voice was barely a breath, but it was laced with venom. “Gaia… I’m going to f*****g ruin you.”
She waited until the drunken chatter faded into the background. Then, when the path was clear, she slipped from the shadows like a ghost.
The bar door creaked open softly.
She scanned the dim room.
There.
In the far corner—alone, as always—sat Elder James.
His shoulders hunched under the weight of age, grief, and whiskey. The glass in his hand reflected the golden glow of candlelight. His eyes stared into nothing, lost in whatever memory had claimed him tonight.
Maya took a slow step forward.
And another.
The floor creaked beneath her, and his head snapped up, eyes narrowing.
At first he looked at her but then looked away saying to himself, "I thought that was my Maya."
- Writer
