---- I shook my head, voice trembling like leaves in storm winds. "Don't fight them. It'll only make it worse." Alpha Michael's fists curled tight, the muscles in his arms straining. Then he exhaled a shaky breath and met my eyes. "Tm right behind you, moonlight." They shoved me into the van, the doors slamming with a hollow finality. Through a slit of silver- meshed glass, I locked eyes with Alpha Michael. Rage and fear warred behind his gaze. The Pack Enforcement Center was a fortress of sterile stone and humming runes, every inch of it designed to break a wolf's spirit. My scent was scanned, my fingerprints taken. Then I was led through narrow halls into a reinforced cell lined with silver-laced iron. Alpha Michael arrived not long after, his face ---- carved from granite. He gripped the bars like he could tear them apart. "Pl get you out," he said, voice raw and certain. "T believe you," I whispered, even as exhaustion clung to my bones. Hours passed. The buzz of enchantments pressed against my ears like insect wings, mixing with the earthy scent of old herbs and distant moonlight. Then I heard them. "Becky!" My grandmother's voice, urgent and warm, pulled me from the fog. She rushed to the cell, her expression a storm of worry. "Are you harmed, my heart?" "Pm okay," I murmured, though my body ached and my spirit frayed. Grandfather's face was drawn, jaw tight. ---- "We offered them a trade, but they won't process your release until first light." I nodded, swallowing the bitterness. "1'l hold on." Grandmother reached through the bars, her touch a balm I didn't realize I needed. "We're here," she said softly. Alpha Michael remained at my side, arms folded, refusing to move. "You can't stay," the guard grumbled. "Then rewrite the rules," Alpha Michael growled, his presence radiating quiet defiance. He sat outside my cell, a silent sentinel. Time blurred. Eventually, they made him leave. But before he did, he leaned in close, his breath warm on my cheek. ---- "Tm not going far." Come dawn, footsteps echoed again-familiar, unwelcome. Sara and Kiera. Their scent slithered into the cell like rot under velvet. "Well, well," Sara purred. "The mighty healer behind bars." Kiera's lips curled. "How poetic. You fell right into our web." My stomach churned. "You framed me." Sara tilted her head, mocking. "Did we? Or are you just clumsy?" Kiera folded her arms, voice syrupy with poison. "That's what happens when you go sniffing