Klepto POV

I've lost track of time completely. The hours, minutes, and seconds all seem to blend together seamlessly.

Every waking moment is sheer torture.

The manacles around my wrists have done irreversible damage. Not long after they clamped down on me, stealing away my freedom, my skin burned so badly that my wrists started bleeding profusely.

Even now I have dried blood plastered to my forearms, the crusty red stains only remind me of my endless pain.

Through the whole time I've been down here, I haven't once seen Alpha Green. The coward doesn't have the balls to face me, to see what he's done to me.

Of all the things I thought he would do, I never thought he would actually imprison me. That he would dare place silver cuffs on one of his own pack members. Oh wait, he doesn't even consider me a member. Maybe that's why.

So here I am, and by now the shock has worn off. I'm accepting the fact that I'm destined to live a life of all consuming misery.

I get food every now and then. I think it might be once a day, but again, I can't keep track of time whatsoever so how would I even know?

The air is stale and musty, reeking of mildew and urine. Oh yeah, I almost forget to mention the best part.

A rusty metal bucket sits in the corner of the cell.

You can only guess what that's for.

If I wasn't a werewolf, I definitely wouldn't be able to see anything at all. I can barely make anything out as it is, I can't even imagine not having supernatural eyesight. Humans have it rough, I bet.

I spend my never ending time in my torture chamber daydreaming, or night dreaming, who knows what time of day it was while I imagine a better life.

I picture my little siblings, playing happily alongside me. I picture my parents showing me affection and telling me they love me. I thought about how different my life could be if my parents were actually caring.

None of this would've happened in that scenario.

Most of all, I reflect one images of Ezra. My mate. My handsome, powerful lycan who seems to always smile, except for when he's looking at me.

I dream about being strong enough to deserve him.

After what feels like forever, I finally hear the sound of the silver door swinging open. Someone is coming down here, and I pray to the Moon Goddess that they're binging me some food.

I've been craving a breakfast burrito for hours.

My stomach groans at the idea, and I move the slightest bit. The small movement sends a jolt of pain through my arms and I clench back a scream. I don't want them to hear my screams.

The yellow lights flicker on, they make a low humming sound as they fill the dungeons with a musky light. The ominous noise of footsteps thunders down the steps towards where I'm trapped.

If I hadn't been chained with silver for this long, I'd probably have the strength to sniff out who exactly it is before they even appear.

Then Beta Thorn is in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. He peers down at me, his mouth set in a thin, firm line while he examines his dirty work.

A pang of confusion flickers inside of me. Usually when my beloved Beta comes down here it's to gloat. There's nothing I can say to wipe the smug look off of his face, so what's up?

My question is answered when he speaks.

"The Alpha has decided to let you go... after much convincing on your behalf."

Who the hell would try to get me out of here?

"I imagine you'll be kissing Mr.Blackmore's feet when you're free." My eyes flicker over to his right to discover the new figure that has magically appeared.

Ezra.

He looks angry, which isn't exactly unusual. Whenever I'm close to him he has a permanent scowl plastered to his stupidly beautiful face.

His florescent eyes appear to glow in the dim, stone room, his tall stature dwarfing my Beta easily.

A tight shiver runs through me as he observes me with clear rage. I'm shocked steam doesn't whistle out of his ears.

Beta Thorn pulls out the huge ring of keys and his trusty black gloves, but before he can slip the protective barrier on his fingers Ezra growls at him.

I watch on in amazement as Beta Thorn visibly flinches. His reaction to my mate is comical to me. I've never seen him so frightened.

It shouldn't make me happy to see him so afraid, but it does. Oh boy, does it make me happy.

"What's the issue now?" Beta Thorn asks, his voice strained and exasperated. My mate grabs the keys from him, snarling again with bared teeth.

"I'll do it." He unlocks the door quickly, swinging the silver door open with his bare hands, not even an ounce of pain to be seen.

He steps into the prison cell, bending down close to me. His intoxicating scent swamps my senses, and I can feel his warm breath fanning my face and neck.

I watch his guarded expression shift. Vulnerability is there, and I can't seem to tear my gaze away from his face.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, and his large hands encase mine. I notice dimly that his knuckles are covered in dried blood. I'm too tired to wonder who he pummeled that bad.

When he lifts my arms into the light, an involuntary cry of pain escapes me, and I hear Ezra hiss something under his breath that I can't quite understand.

His eyes swirl dangerously, darkening until they're pitch black. That's kind of freaky.

"You don't deserve to be a Beta. Betas protect and care for a pack, they don't torture them like a sick, twisted rogue." He seethes between clenched teeth, he turns to look over his shoulder after a moment of silence.

"You are a pathetic excuse of a leader. You disgust me."

Since Ezra blocks out everything with his body, I can't see Beta Thorn's reaction to his words, but I feel his distress crackle in the air.

Instead of trying to find a key to unlock the shackles on my wrists, Ezra just grabs them and tears them off with his strong fingers. They break easily, clattering to the stone floor in defeat.

I peer down at the silver in disgust. They're coated in crusty blood, as are my arms and wrists. Underneath the dried blood you can spot the raw marks that cover my skin.

The scars will be permanent after they heal, an eternal reminder of my disobedience. Great.

Ezra glares at my wounds for what feels like forever, the moment draws on before he finally looks back up at me. I can feel his deep sorrow, his genuine anger.

Maybe he doesn't actually hate me.

Okay, I know he doesn't hate me. But he doesn't want to accept me either, so there is that.

"We need to go. She needs to pack her things, I will oversee it." Beta Thorn says, finally recovering from the insults mercilessly hurled at him mere moments ago.

Ezra snarls.

"She needs to see the pack Doctor first. Then she can pack. But her safety comes first. Your pack members' safety should always come first."

I listen to what they say, but I'm a bit groggy. Everything sounds fuzzy, but I still somehow pick up on the general idea of what they're talking about.

"Ezra, What does he mean by pack?" I ask quietly, fear rattling my spine, making my body shiver with a bone deep chill. Something doesn't feel quite right.

"Nothing. Everything will be okay." He brushes the greasy hair from my forehead. I can only imagine how I look... and smell. I can't remember the last time I had a shower.

"They're... they're not going to banish me from the pack are they?" I ask. My horror must be clear in my voice and expression because Ezra quickly dismisses my fear.

"No, no. Nothing like that, sweetheart. Trust me."

Trust me.

Two simple words with a whole world of meaning. How can I trust someone who treats me like he does?

I don't know if I can ever fully trust a person.

After everything I've been through, it seems like an impossible thing.

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After an excruciating trip, I sit in the pack doctor's office. My legs hand like two pale columns holding up the small cot I'm propped on.

Ezra hasn't said a word since we left the prison cell, a place I don't even want to think about, not for the rest of my life.

He had lifted me from the ground and into his arms, it was the closest I've ever been to Ezra thus far. Even though I was tired and food deprived, I felt the mate bond fill me with warmth and a glow of happiness.

It felt like we arrived at the pack doctor way too soon, and the joy of being against his chest was over as soon as it started. I tried to hide my disappointment.

Now I glance at him nervously as he stands in the doorway, tense yet collected after his little mental breakdown.

Beta Thorn sits folded in a chair at the far end of the crowded room. He tries to remain indifferent looking, but he actually looks like he would rather be anywhere but here. I can relate.

After an excruciating amount of tense silence, the pack doctor appears through the door. His eyebrows raised when he sees me.

"You again?" He asks, but it doesn't come across as remotely rude. He genuinely seems perplexed. Poor guy, caught in middle of all of this.

"Sorry, Dr.Poland." I scratch my elbow and look away, "I guess I'm just a magnet for trouble." I shrug my shoulders and wince at the twinge it shoots through my system.

He glances dubiously at me before eyeing our Beta and my mate with catious eyes. He approaches me and gingerly takes my arm to examine it.

"Silver?" He demands, his head snapping up to me, and I'm surprised his glasses don't fly off. "How on earth did you get such severe silver burns?"

Again, I look away. I need to make up an excuse, but my weary mind can't come up with anything creative enough to be convincing at the moment.

"Were you responsible for this?" Dr.Poland accuses Beta Thorn, and anxiety has me wanting to run from here.

The Beta presses his lips together and narrows his eyes at the pack doctor.

"That's not really business, Doc. Do your job. We need to get her out of here as soon as possible." He says using a fake calm voice, I hear the slight tremble underneath, "She's to be moved to the pack office building by nightfall."

My stomach drops to my toes. What did he just say?

My eyes go wide as I stare at Beta Thorn. That isn't possible, he has to be baiting me, tying to torment me further.

"What?" I ask, my voice grating and scratchy from disuse.

Beta Thorn gives me a bored look as Dr.Poland proceeds to cover my burned wrists in cooling ointment that isn't likely to do much.

"Yeah. We need to keep an eye on you, don't we? This is how we're going to do it." He says, that trademark demented look crossing his face.

My body shifts, the still room suddenly feeling like it's shaking. Maybe we're having an earthquake? My entire being is consumed by the sensation of free falling.

"You should be grateful." The deep voice fills the room and my head whips around to stare at Ezra as he speaks. "It's the reason you're free."

He takes a long inhale.

"And it was my idea."

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If you're reading this, I love you:)