Kate's POV
The first thing I felt was the cold.
Not the damp, mildewed chill of a basement. This was something else. Sterile. Surgical. The kind of cold that lived in high tech labs and morgues, the kind that crept across skin like a warning.
I blinked my eyes open. The flickering yellow bulb and folding chair from that staged little k********g set were gone, replaced by polished steel and gleaming white tile. I was strapped to a heavy industrial table inside a room that reeked of money, every surface obscenely expensive, every corner whispering control.
The plastic zip ties on my wrists were gone too. In their place, silver. Pure, heavy, deliberate silver. Each link burned where it touched me, biting through skin into something deeper, something only my wolf could feel.
She roared in
