Paris’s POV
When I woke up, the first thing I felt was that I was bound, and the second was that I was lying down in a dark room. For a normal wolf, darkness wouldn’t be a problem—but that wasn’t my case. When I tried to free my wrists, restrained behind my back by tight bindings, I realized I was barely dressed.
What had happened to my dress?
A cold sweat slid down my skin, and only then did I fully grasp how vulnerable I was. I struggled with all my strength, but it was useless. I knew those ropes well—their material, the kind of knot used. They were meant for humans who, by chance, wandered into pack territory. After subduing them and knocking them unconscious, they would be dumped near a remote road, confused and convinced they had taken some kind of hallucinogen. Without the streng
