My triplet alphas version two

I woke up to the sound of crying. At first, I thought it was me. My throat was raw, like I’d been screaming. My body ached all over. My face was wet—tears or sweat or both, I don’t know. Then I realized it wasn’t me. It was someone else. A girl. Then another voice. And another. I’m not alone in here. There are others. Girls. Some sound barely older than teenagers. One sounds like a child. One is whispering a name over and over again. Another just sobs quietly, like she’s past begging for help. We’re all in cages. Mine is just big enough to curl into. Cold metal lines the floor. The air smells like rust, blood, urine. I tried pulling at the shackles around my wrists until I bled, but they didn’t give. My cage has no door that I can see—just welded bars and shadows beyond. It’s dim here. The light above flickers, humming like it’s alive. Every time it does, I catch glimpses of other cages—rows of them. Girls curled up, silent. Others rocking, eyes vacant. A few staring back at me with hollow expressions. It’s like some kind of hell. And I don’t know how I got here. The last thing I remember is running. Maxwell had Ellie in his arms—I was just behind them. We were in the woods. The night was thick with fog, but we couldn’t stop. They were chasing us. I remember the sound of branches cracking, growls behind us, a shout—then a blur of fur and claws. I turned, just for a second, and Maxwell was gone. I screamed his name. I screamed for Ellie. I tried to run to them. Something slammed into me from behind. Everything went black. Now I’m here. Alone. In a cage. And they’re gone. I don’t know if Maxwell’s alive. I don’t know if Ellie is safe. That not knowing is worse than the pain. I’ve screamed their names. Cried until my voice broke. No one answers. Only those low, guttural sounds from the hallway. Heavy boots. Doors slamming. Laughing—low and cruel, like it doesn’t belong to humans. Something isn’t right here. Some of the girls whisper about monsters. About “alphas.” About being “chosen.” I heard them drag someone away last night. She screamed until the door shut. She never came back. I know how that sounds. But you don’t sit in a cage like this, in a place like this, and think monsters don’t exist. I’m Cassidy Hayes. Wife. Mother. Fighter. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I don’t know how long I can survive this. But I have to try. For Ellie. For Maxwell. For the chance they might still be out there. They can chain my body. But they will not break my will.