Kamrynn's POV
The word hits me like a blow to the chest, stealing the breath from my lungs. A rogue. They think I'm a rogue. It shouldn't surprise me, not after I cut all ties with the Obsidian Pack, but hearing it said aloud feels like a final blow. Rogues are infamous for a reason-lone wolves cast out from their Packs, known to wreak havoc and bring chaos wherever they go. They're dangerous, unpredictable… and they're usually killed on sight.
The first warrior frowns, his gaze hardening. "Is that true?" he asks, his voice laced with suspicion. "Are you a rogue?"
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I can feel the sting of the word-rogue-like it's branding itself onto my skin, marking me with a fate I never wanted. Panic surges through me as the other warriors exchange a look, their postures growing tense and threatening.
"She has no identification," the second warrior snaps, his hand drifting toward the knife at his belt. "We should deal with her here and now. Can't have rogues running loose in our territory."
"No!" I cry, my voice breaking as I take a step back. "Please, I'm not-"
Before I can finish, the first warrior lunges at me, his hand clamping down on my arm, squeezing so hard I can feel my bones shift. "Shut it, rogue," he snarls. "You're not going anywhere."
Fear rushes through me like ice water, freezing my limbs. They're going to kill me. I try to jerk free, but his grip tightens painfully. "Please, wait!" I shout, my voice hoarse with desperation. "I'm pregnant! I'm pregnant-please, don't hurt me!"
The warriors hesitate, their movements faltering as my words hang in the air. The first warrior's grip loosens just slightly, and I catch the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But the second warrior sneers, his face hard with disgust.
"Probably lying," he says, his voice dripping with contempt. "Rogues will say anything to save their own skin."
"Enough!"
A woman's voice rings out, sharp and commanding. I look up to see a female warrior stepping forward, her expression fierce and her eyes blazing with authority. She's taller than I am, with dark hair pulled back in a braid, and her presence is enough to make the other warriors step back.
"Stand down, all of you," she orders, her gaze sweeping over the men. "We're not killing her here."
"But Elara," one of the warriors protests, his brow furrowed, "she's a rogue. We can't just let her go."
Elara's eyes narrow, and the warriors visibly stiffen under her glare. "Did I say we're letting her go?" she snaps. "We'll take her back to the Pack and decide her fate there. If she's lying, we'll deal with it then." She turns her gaze to me, her eyes hard and unreadable. "But if she's telling the truth, I'm not about to murder a pregnant woman in cold blood."
The other warriors exchange a glance, then step back reluctantly. The first warrior releases my arm, and I slump forward, my legs weak with relief.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Thank you…"
"Save your thanks," Elara interrupts, her tone cold. "You're not out of danger yet."
She turns on her heel and heads toward a nearby cart. Reaching inside, she pulls out a coarse, woolen blanket and tosses it at me. "Cover yourself," she says curtly. "We can't have you parading around like that."
I catch the blanket with trembling hands, the rough material scratching against my skin as I wrap it tightly around my body. The shame of being exposed in front of them burns almost as much as the fear, but the blanket brings some small comfort, even if it's just an illusion of protection.
The head warrior, the one who first accused me of being a rogue, steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he regards me. "We'll take her back to the Pack," he decides, his voice laced with annoyance. "The Alpha can decide what to do with her."
They bind my hands with rope and march me through the forest. My legs are weak, and every step feels like a struggle. The walk is long and arduous, and the weight of what just happened sinks in. I was nearly killed. I thought I had finally escaped from Calvin's nightmare, only to end up in another kind of hell.
***
By the time we arrive at the Blue Bell Pack, the sun has set, and the air is cold. The warriors lead me to a dark stone building at the edge of the Pack's territory. It's a prison. My stomach twists as they shove me inside, my bare feet scraping against the cold stone floor.
"Get in there," the head warrior grunts, pushing me roughly into a cell. The heavy iron bars slam shut behind me with a loud clang.
I stumble forward and catch myself on the damp wall, the musty smell of the cell filling my nose. The room is small and dark, with only a thin mat on the floor for a bed. My limbs are trembling, and my heart sinks as I take in my new surroundings.
"This is your new home," the warrior sneers before turning to leave. "Try not to cause any trouble, rogue."
As the echo of his footsteps fades away, I slump to the floor, exhaustion and despair overwhelming me. I've escaped one prison just to end up in another. The taste of freedom had been so close, and now it's been ripped away, leaving me with nothing but the cold stone walls of this cell.
Just as I'm about to lay down on the mat, I hear a voice-a raspy, low mumble coming from the back corner of the cell.
"New girl, huh?"
I jerk my head up, my eyes straining to see in the dim light. There's someone else here, crouched in the shadows. A woman. As she steps forward, I catch a glimpse of her face, gaunt and lined with dirt. Her hair is a tangled mess, and her eyes have a wild, frenzied look to them.
"Thought I heard them bring someone in," she says, her voice carrying an odd sing-song tone. She tilts her head, studying me with a crooked grin. "What'd you do to end up here, hmm? Did you steal from the Alpha? Try to poison someone? Or maybe…" Her grin widens, revealing crooked teeth. "Maybe you're just unlucky, like me."
I swallow hard, not knowing how to respond. The woman's presence fills me with unease, but there's a sadness in her eyes too, a kind of brokenness that I recognize all too well.
"Why are you here?" I ask quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
She giggles, a sound that's more unsettling than cheerful. "Oh, I've been here for a long time," she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did some things I shouldn't have, but who hasn't, right?" She steps closer, her gaze piercing. "You know… some people say the Moon Goddess plays tricks on us. Sends us down the wrong path just for fun."
I take a step back, pressing myself against the wall. "I… I don't believe that."
The woman shrugs, then moves back to her corner, rocking back and forth as if nothing had happened. "Believe what you want," she mutters. "We're all just pawns, anyway."
I sink to the floor, a bitter laugh escaping my lips despite the tears stinging my eyes. I thought I had finally escaped Calvin's torment, only to end up in a prison in another Pack. It feels like no matter where I go, the walls just keep closing in. I thought I was free. I thought I was finally getting away from all of it, but I guess I was just truly unfortunate.
The cold from the stone seeps into my skin, and a shiver runs through me. I pull the thin blanket tighter around myself, curling up on the floor. I close my eyes, trying to block out the sounds of the woman's mutterings and the distant echoes of the guards outside.
It's a sad existence. A miserable, endless cycle of suffering, and I don't know if I'll ever find a way out.