“In you go, mutt,” one of his alpha guards sneers as he unceremoniously tosses him into one of the holding cells.
“f*****g filth,” the other spits the moment the lock on the cell clicks into place.
“f*****g cowards,” Damian can’t help but smirk at the fact that neither one of them had the courage to call him names or spit in his face before he was safely behind bars.
“And you,” the smaller of the two guards growls as he stands in front of the other cell. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about you. We’ll use you to wash the taste of all those f*****g rogues out of our mouths.”
A small whimper draws his attention from the guards to the cell next to his.
Damian is not particularly surprised to see that it’s already occupied. These alphas are definitely ask-questions-never kind of wolves.
