shook, he looked like he knew he was in trouble. But the Alpha ignored him, walking past as he kept pulling my arm through the front door. I groaned in pain,

on cell and I was tossed inside like trash. I hit the ground and immediately began sobbing as the door slammed shut behind me. A few minutes passed. I was still curled up, shivering, trying to keep my eyes closed and my mind blank when I heard footsteps. I looked up and saw the two guards were passing. But this time, they weren't alone. They were dragging someone. And my eyes widened when I saw it was the old woman. The one who had told me to run. She looked lifeless, and I would have thought she was dead, but her hand twitched slightly. Blood was dripping from her mouth. I looked closer and gasped, they had cut off her tongue. Perhaps it was because she had tried to warn me, but that just sealed the deal of how ruthless they truly were. If they could do that to her, a woman who had lived under their roof and served them probably for years... what would they do to me? She had only whispered a warning-and they butchered her for it. And me? I was the girl who ran. The girl the Alpha had to chase. I pressed myself further against the wall, trying to make myself smaller. I didn't sleep that night. I remained in the cell for three days. Still shirtless and lying on the cold floor. I had tried once to find something to cover myself, but there was nothing in the cell but stone, so I gave up. I just stayed curled up, trying not to cry too loud. Each day someone came. They brought me food, helped me to the toilet, treated the bruises on my back-which thankfully weren't as deep as I feared-and then they would force me to drink a bitter concoction that made my stomach twist. I didn't know what it was, but it always left a nasty taste in my mouth and made me sleepy. By the end of the third day, most of my pain had dulled and my back wasn't bleeding anymore. Every night I prayed to a God I didn't even believe in that my father had realized I was missing. That he'd reported me and that the police were searching for me. I clung to the hope that any moment now, they would burst through these stone walls, guns drawn, shouting my name. Then came the fourth night. I was lying down, my arms wrapped around my chest as I tried to find a comfortable position on the stone floor, when I heard the door unlock. Two guards stepped in silently. Following behind them were four maids. That was new. Only one maid and guard usually came to tend to me. Before I could speak, the guards lifted me up. I didn't fight, as usual, but instead of taking me to the filthy old bathroom again, they walked me toward another corner. "What'