Romance

  Aurora &#39;s Perspective
  It was the cold that woke me. That, and the lingering stench of cheap disinfectant and damp mold. The spot on the back of my neck where the stun gun hit still throbbed dully, a sickening pulse keeping time with the ache in my skull.
  I opened my eyes. It took several seconds for my vision to adjust. Not to light, but to the absolute, suffocating weight of the dark. No windows. Not a sliver of light. I was lying on a thin, lumpy mattress, the cold, rough texture of concrete beneath me. The air was stagnant, thick enough to choke on.
  I wasn&#39;t tied up. A small, shaky wave of relief, immediately followed by a sharper spike of fear—they were either confident I couldn&#39;t escape, or they simply didn&#39;t care if I tried. I pushed myself up to sit, every muscle protesting, especially where I&#39;d hit the ground during the crash. I checked myself over. My

  Brett&#39;s Perspective
  This damn place was boring enough to drive you insane.
  No windows. No sunrise or sunset to mark the day. Just that godawful, sickly-white fluorescent light overhead, buzzing twenty-four seven. Time had turned into a thick, congealed glue, crawling forward. No phone, no computer, no games, not even a tattered magazine. Just four walls of bare, dark green paint, a hard bunk, a stainless-steel toilet, and… Luka.
  Luka was mostly silent. He’d either curl up in his corner with his eyes closed, or lean against the wall, staring into the empty space across from him with a hollow look, lost in thoughts I couldn’t guess. I’d tried asking him more about this place, about the men who caught us, about how a werewolf survives in a hole like this. At first, he’d grunt a few dismissive answers. Later, he wouldn’t even bother opening his eyes, just a low, irritated rumble 

  Brett&#39;s POV
  He didn&#39;t move.
  That ragged-looking wolf, curled in the corner, just stared at me for the long seconds after I was shoved in and the heavy door clanged shut. Utterly still, like a wild animal assessing a threat or an opportunity, radiating a clear &#39;don&#39;t mess with me&#39; vibe. I froze by the door, the loose chain of the single remaining cuff on my wrist swaying slightly with my uneven breaths, tinking softly against the metal.
  Time crawled through the stale air. My palms were slick with sweat, but strangely, the instinctive tremor I’d feel facing an enemy was absent. His scent was complex—dust, old blood, cheap tobacco, and something… bitter. But it held no focused, tearing-me-apart malice.
  Finally, he shifted. Not an attack, just adjusting into a slightly less cramped position against the cold wall. Those eyes, gleaming faintly with a tawny-gold ti

Aurora &#39;s Perspective
  It was the cold that woke me. That, and the lingering stench of cheap disinfectant and damp mold. The spot on the back of my neck where the stun gun hit still throbbed dully, a sickening pulse keeping time with the ache in my skull.
  I opened my eyes. It took several seconds for my vision to adjust. Not to light, but to the absolute, suffocating weight of the dark. No windows. Not a sliver of light. I was lying on a thin, lumpy mattress, the cold, rough texture of concrete beneath me. The air was stagnant, thick enough to choke on.
  I wasn&#39;t tied up. A small, shaky wave of relief, immediately followed by a sharper spike of fear—they were either confident I couldn&#39;t escape, or they simply didn&#39;t care if I tried. I pushed myself up to sit, every muscle protesting, especially where I&#39;d hit the ground during the crash. I checked myself over. My leather jacket was torn in a few places. I had bruises and scrapes. Miraculously, that seemed to b

Chapter 252