Chapter 62: Trapped

Ivy

The walls around me seemed to breathe, shifting in the dimly lit space.

Two days. Forty-eight endless hours since I was taken.

I counted them through the steady drip of water somewhere in the distance, the only sound breaking the suffocating silence of this prison.

No one had come for me. No one was coming. 

The realization settled deep in my bones like a sickness.

I curled on the small, grimy mattress they had given me, my hands and feet bound, my body aching from lying on the damp, filthy fabric. The air was thick with rot, the stench of mold and stagnant water clinging to my skin. The walls were cracked, peeling, revealing the decaying structure beneath. Rats skittered in the corners, their tiny claws scratching against the concrete. The only light seeped in through a high, grimy window, casting sickly yellow streaks across the floor.  

The silence was unbearable.  

Does my father even know I’ve been taken? Will Leo inform him or will he be too busy with his mate?

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to ignore the sting in my chest. The pain of Leo’s betrayal was the only thing keeping me from completely shattering. If I allowed myself to fully grasp the terror of my situation, I knew I would break.

I pressed my lips together, closing my eyes.  

“No one will come,” I whispered aloud. My voice echoed, hollow and small, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the warehouse.  

I had no idea who had taken me or where I was.  

They never showed their faces. They never spoke of why I was here. They never told me what they wanted.  

It was the same as before.  

Memories slammed into me like a wrecking ball, ghosts of the past merging with the nightmare of the present. I had been here before—not in this exact place, but in the same darkness. The same fear.

The same helplessness.

A child’s scream echoed in my mind. My own.

I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut, shaking the thoughts away. I wasn’t that little girl anymore. I couldn’t be. 

“Hello?!” I screamed, my voice cracking.  

No answer.  

“Help! HELP!”  

Laughter.  

Mocking, taunting laughter.  

Then, the sound of heavy boots approaching.  

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.  

Three figures entered, their faces obscured by hoods. They moved with purpose, their footsteps echoing loudly against the concrete. One of them, taller than the rest, cupped his hands around his mouth and mimicked my scream in a high-pitched, feminine voice.  

“Help, help!” he jeered.  

The others chuckled darkly.  

I shrank back against the mattress, my heart hammering.  

The tallest of them—the one I assumed to be their leader—stopped in front of me and crouched down. A black nose mask covered the lower half of his face, leaving only his cold, gray eyes visible.  

“You know why we didn’t gag you?” he mused. “Because you can scream as loud as you want, little wolf, but no one—not even a bird flying by—will hear you.”  

His voice was low, rough, almost amused.  

“So,” he said, tilting his head, “I suggest you keep quiet, because I have a terrible headache.”  

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.  

“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Who sent you? How much did they offer? I—I can triple it. Please, just let me go. I won’t say anything to the police, I swear.”  

He snickered, and the other two laughed—low, cruel, entertained.  

“You think this is about money?” he sneered. “You insult me and my brothers, Ivy Blackwood.”  

The way he said my name sent a cold shiver down my spine.  

“Please,” I tried again, my voice breaking. “Tell me what you want. Whatever it is, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” he interrupted, a teasing lilt in his voice.  

He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across my face. I scowled at the putrid stench. He smelled of rotting meat and cigarettes.  

“Anything,” I whispered desperately. “Just let me go.”  

His eyes darkened as they trailed over me, and my stomach turned.  

Then, slowly, he lifted a hand.  

My breath hitched.  

His fingers brushed against my cheek, then slid downward—slow, deliberate. My pulse roared in my ears as his hand traveled further, lower, until—  

His palm covered my left breast.  

A violent shudder wracked my body.  

Tears burned behind my eyes as I willed myself not to cry.  

Moon Goddess, please. Just this once. Just this one time. Let me have my wolf.  

I never wanted her. I never needed her. Not since I accepted my fate.

But now, all I wanted was to fight back. Even if it’s just for a second.

I squirmed, twisting my body away from his touch. “Get your hands off me, you bastard,” I spat.  

And then—I spit in his face.  

Everything stopped.  

For a second, the world was silent.  

Then—  

Pain.  

The slap came so hard my head snapped to the side, my vision bursting white.  

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.  

Before I could recover, rough hands seized my shoulders, pinning me down.  

“Hold her down,” the leader ordered.  

The two men hesitated.  

“What do you think you’re doing?” one of them asked, his voice wary.  

“You know the client’s orders,” the other added. “We’re not supposed to touch her like that.”  

The leader scoffed. “Is he here? Who’s going to tell him?”  

A pause.  

Then, in a sickeningly casual voice, he added, “Just look at her. Imagine how she’d feel underneath you. He doesn’t have to know.”  

The hesitation wavered.  

One of them licked his lips.  

I felt bile rise in my throat.  

“They may not say anything," I whispered, clinging to the only leverage I had. My body trembled, but I refused to let fear paralyze me. I wouldn't go down without a fight—I couldn't. After everything I had endured, after all the years I had fought to protect myself, I refused to let these filthy thugs steal what wasn’t theirs to take.

The one holding my left arm stiffened.  

“Are you willing to risk that?” I pressed. “Risk angering your client?”  

The two hesitated, but their leader grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.  

His gaze was icy, lifeless.  

“You will shut your mouth,” he said. “Or I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

Terror flooded my veins.  

He smirked at my fear. “Now, be a good girl and don’t make this hard.”  

Then he stood and unbuckled his belt.  

“No,” I whimpered, thrashing wildly.  

The other two hesitated again. “This isn’t part of the plan—”  

“Shut up and hold her.”  

One of them hesitated, his grip on my arm slackening as doubt flickered across his face. He glanced at the others, his voice unsteady. “Are you sure about this?”

The leader ignored him. He yanked down his zipper and his dick hung loose, shameless and menacing.

I screamed.  

I kicked.  

I fought.  

It was useless.  

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as he lifted my dress, exposing my bare legs.  

The cold air bit at my skin.  

This was it.  

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away, tears streaming down my face as a sob tore from my throat.

‘Please, Moon Goddess. If you’re listening, help me.’ 

The leader grunted.  

Then—  

A wet gurgle.  

A sharp, pained inhale.  

Piercing screams shattered the evening, followed by the frantic pounding of footsteps—then, just as suddenly, silence.  

I opened my eyes.  

The leader lay motionless beside me, his pants halfway down his thighs.  

His throat was ripped open, deep claw marks slicing across his skin.  

His eyes were wide. Empty. Dead.  

I screamed.  

What happened? Who did this? Where are the others?

I twisted, trying to move, but my hands and feet were still bound.  

Then—  

My breath hitched.  

Blood.  

There was blood on my fingers.  

I stared, horror swallowing me whole.