Chapter 28: Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ryder Oscura found the act of torture as a form of information extraction to be boring and taxing.

He would rather be anywhere else than here, as he preferred other means of information extraction which didn’t require the use of tools or the gory torture chamber.

But he didn’t have a choice. At least not tonight.

The rattle of chains brought him back to the present, and he looked at the werewolf who was half-suspended in the air by his ankles.

The cell was about eight by ten feet in size and had little to no room for movement. It had stone walls that were once upon a time a dark beige in color but were now nothing more than a pale brown.

The room stank of piss, vomit, and other indescribable body fluids that he had no time to discern—some of which belonging to the newest prisoner, some belonging to prisoners long dead.

The foul stench was repulsive. Adding in his super sensitive nostrils, Ryder knew it would take a while to get the stench out of his system.

His gaze went to the silver manacles the shifter had been chained with, taking in his partially-shifted body with a cold expression.

Being partially shifted while chained with silver would hurt like hell. Ryder had experienced that firsthand when he had undergone a training exercise with his father, the Alpha, after his first shift.

Not being able to turn into your wolf to start the healing process, with the silver slowly poisoning your bloodstream and slowing down your healing was a fate Ryder would not wish upon anyone.

When dealing with rogues, he preferred to be quick and efficient, rather than this slow torture the Alpha had subjected the wolf to.

But, it wasn’t in Ryder’s jurisdiction. His job today was to find out just how much information the wolf had fed to their enemies and begin to make plans if he had put the pack in danger.

The opening of the door behind him had him straightening into his posture. He glanced back to find one of the Alpha’s inner circle members behind him accompanied by a stainless-steel trolley, which was filled with an assortment of knives, pins, needles, cutters, and other kinds of tools that Ryder had no idea what they were used for.

“I will take it from here,” Kane stated as he sidestepped Ryder to enter the cell fully, leaving the trolley to hang partially between the hallway and inside the cell. “Alpha’s orders. You are needed elsewhere.”

“Where?” Ryder asked gruffly, his face a mask of cold indifference.

On the inside, he was glad he didn’t have to deal with the prisoner, but he wasn’t about to let the Alpha’s henchman know about that.

“Main cabin.”

Ryder pivoted and left the dungeons, taking in a greedy inhale of the fresh air when he stepped outside, letting the breeze brush away some of the stench away from his body.

He needed a shower, stat!

But, he couldn’t also refuse to answer the Alpha’s summons.

Doing so would spell out trouble for him. It didn’t matter that he was the Alpha’s only heir and was next in line to be the Alpha of Blood Moon Pack. If he stepped a foot out of line, he would pay dearly for it.

And he couldn’t afford to do that. Not when a lot was on the line.

Not after her.

Saffron.

The human with the silvery white hair.

The human who had become the object of his desire. The human who had his wolf act out and made him want to lose control.

The human who he suspected wasn’t human at all.

Even now, while still being surrounded by the fowl stench of the torture chambers, Ryder could scent her on him—honeycomb, jasmine, and wildflowers.

It was a unique scent that only belonged to her.

His gaze went to the water he had found her in two days ago, wondering not for the first time why he had found her here of all places.

He had been amused at the very least when he had seen her silvery hair shimmering under the glow of the moonlight because late-night skinny-dipping wasn’t the first unusual thing he had found her doing on the island.

But when her figure had bobbed, gone under the water for a second, popped back up again, went under, then above once again, he had sprinted towards her lifeless body, his pulse racing and heart in his throat.

There had been no movement in her body, no signs of swimming, or any indications that she was trying to make it back to shore.

She was just still, her body rolling along with the waves.

He ran faster, sprinting right into the water and swimming towards her, the distance between him and the girl seeming to expand with each passing second, even as he used all of his shifter strength to propel him forward.

His arms had forcefully moved through the ocean, taking command of the waves.

Hours seemed to have passed as he pushed himself forward, even as the waves tried to push him backward, his wolf thrashing inside him, as it tried to set itself free.

Another wave crashed into him, trying to sink him under, dragging her body further away from him, but it didn’t deter him. He had to get to her.

He reached her side and grabbed her body, turning her face upwards to inspect her. She didn’t open her eyes though. Only her lips parted slightly as she sucked in air greedily, torn scraps of her dress clinging to her frame like a second skin.

It was her, just like he had suspected.

But why was she here of all places?

And why were her clothes torn?

She seemed to be semi-conscious, though she appeared to be sleeping.

There were scrapes and raised bumps on her skin, as if she had gone through a fight and managed to escape.

But why? And with who?

As another wave rolled, Ryder abandoned his internal musings and kicked his feet beneath him as he dragged them both towards the shore.

There was blood all over her, even though some of it had been washed away by the water. Still, some of the life liquid clung to her torso like a muddy imprint beneath the moonlight.

It seemed to be oozing from around her neck. And it was only then that he realized the debilitating state of her throat.

“Who did this?” he gasped as he laid her gently on the sand, trying to figure out how to handle her fragile body.

Big brown eyes stared up at him. As her eyelids snapped open, her face contorted into one of absolute terror.

Her lips parted on a soundless scream, a scream that came from a throat that was no longer capable of forming a sound.

“Shhh,” he placated, trying to reassure her of her safety with him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m here to help you,” he whispered against her ear, as he cradled her body into his. “Try not to move your body.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated because it seemed like the right phrase with how violently she trembled against him as if she wanted to get away from him but didn’t have the strength to do so.

“You’re going to be all right,” he vowed as he rose to his feet carefully, trying not to jostle her broken body too much.

He had no idea how she was still alive, how she had survived having her throat crushed, but he was going to make sure that she would be okay.

The same, however, could not be said about whoever was responsible for her current state.