Chapter 3 Shackles of Betrayal

I stepped out of the condo just as the first hints of dawn began to paint the sky in muted shades of lavender and pale gold. The crisp morning air was a stark contrast to the warmth I had been wrapped in all night, and I shivered-not from the cold, but from the heavy weight of reality settling on my shoulders.

Ezra.

His name whispered through my mind like an unbidden caress, stirring something in my chest that I had no business feeling. I had been sent to distract him, nothing more. A job. A means to an end. And yet, my treacherous heart had danced at the way his hands had roamed my body, at the husky way he had murmured my name in the thick of passion.

I shook my head, forcing myself to move. Each step down the sleek marble stairs of his building felt heavier than the last, my heels clicking too loudly in the hush of the early morning. The memory of last night clung to me, seeped into my skin like an intoxicating perfume I couldn't wash off.

Damn it, Jo. Get a grip.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the strange ache in my chest. What was I expecting? That I could stay? That I could belong, even for a night?

I was a halfling-an abomination in the eyes of both humans and werewolves.

A mistake.

And mistakes don't get happy endings.

I hailed a cab, sinking into the seat and rubbing my arms. The driver barely glanced at me, muttering something unintelligible before pulling into the empty road. I forced my thoughts away from Ezra, away from the way his emerald-green eyes had softened when he looked at me, and back to my purpose.

Lucas.

I had done my part. I had given Viper what he wanted. Now it was time for him to hold up his end of the deal.

When the car stopped outside a dingy-looking warehouse on the outskirts of the city, dread coiled tight in my stomach. The place reeked of oil and metal, a stark contrast to the luxurious condo I had just left.

I took a breath and stepped out.

The entrance was guarded, but the moment they recognized me, the men stepped aside, pushing open the heavy iron doors to let me through. I walked in, my heels clicking against the concrete floor. The air inside was thick with the scent of sweat and something metallic-something that made the hairs on my arms rise.

Viper was waiting.

He leaned against a metal desk in the dimly lit room, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, his gaze sharp and calculating. The corners of his lips curled into a smirk when he saw me.

"Well, well," he drawled, flicking ash onto the floor. "Look who finally decided to show up."

I clenched my fists. "I did what you asked. Where's Lucas?"

He took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in lazy swirls before answering. "Ah, yes. Your dear little brother."

Something in his tone made my stomach clench.

"Where is he?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Viper pushed off the desk and took a step closer. "You know, Jo," he murmured, tilting his head as if studying me, "I have to admit, I underestimated you. When I sent you to distract Ezra, I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. But you did, didn't you?" His smirk widened. "I bet he had no idea he was just a job to you."

My nails dug into my palms. "I did what you asked," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. "Now let Lucas go."

Viper chuckled. It was an ugly sound, void of humor. "See, here's the thing," he said, circling me like a predator playing with its prey. "You think this was just about Ezra? About a simple distraction?"

A chill slithered down my spine.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice coming out more fragile than I liked.

Viper's smirk vanished. His eyes darkened.

"I mean, sweetheart," he said, voice laced with mockery, "you were never getting your brother back."

The words slammed into me like a physical blow. My breath hitched.

No. No, no, no.

My chest tightened as panic clawed at my throat. "That wasn't the deal!" I shouted.

Viper only shrugged. "Deals change."

Rage burned through me, molten and violent. Without thinking, I lunged at him. But before I could get close, something hard struck the back of my head. Pain exploded in my skull, stars bursting in my vision as I crumpled to the ground.

Boots. Voices. Laughter.

Then darkness.

When I woke, my wrists ached from the tight metal cuffs binding them. A dim, flickering light buzzed overhead, casting eerie shadows on the walls. My throat was dry, raw, as if I had been screaming.

I tried to move, but the chains rattled, cruelly reminding me of my captivity.

I was in a cell.

Panic slammed into me, clawing up my throat like bile. My breath came in short gasps, my heartbeat a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

How long had I been here?

Where was Lucas?

Footsteps echoed down the hall. I swallowed hard as a shadow appeared on the other side of the bars.

Viper.

"Rise and shine, halfling," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

I glared at him, my body trembling with suppressed fury. "Let me go," I ground out.

He tsked, shaking his head. "You really don't get it, do you?"

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

"You're special, Jo," he continued. "More special than you even realize."

I frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He crouched down, leveling his gaze with mine through the bars. "Your blood, sweetheart. It's... unique."

Something cold and sharp slithered down my spine.

"What do you mean?"

Viper's grin was slow, predatory.

"You'll find out soon enough."

The sound of the door slamming shut was the last thing I heard before I was swallowed by silence.

The days blurred together, each moment indistinguishable from the last. I had lost count of how long I had been locked away in the damp, suffocating cell-until today. Today was different.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. I sat up, my back stiff from the unforgiving concrete floor, my muscles weak from lack of movement. A metallic jingle followed as the lock on my cell clicked open.

"Blindfold her."

The gruff command sent a shiver through me. Before I could react, a thick cloth was pulled over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. Hands grabbed my arms, hauling me to my feet with little care for the bruises that littered my skin.

"Move."

I obeyed, mostly because I had no other choice. My chains clinked softly with each reluctant step, my bare feet scuffing against the cold floor. The air was heavy with the scent of damp stone and something metallic-blood? My stomach twisted.

We walked for what felt like forever, my mind struggling to map out the turns and inclines, the small details that might one day help me escape.

Then, the air changed.

It was subtle at first-a shift from damp stagnation to something cleaner, sterile. The sharp tang of disinfectant curled in my nostrils, so at odds with the filth I had been breathing for weeks.

A door hissed open. The guards nudged me forward.

Then, silence.

A beat passed before someone tugged at my blindfold, the sudden flood of light stinging my eyes. I blinked rapidly, vision swimming as I took in my surroundings.

This wasn't a cell.

It wasn't a dungeon.

It was a doctor's office.

White walls. A sleek examination table. Shelves lined with vials, syringes, and neatly labeled bottles. The air was unnaturally crisp, humming with the quiet buzz of fluorescent lights.

And standing before me was her.

Dr. Lucy.

She wasn't what I expected. Not some cruel, cold-hearted scientist in a bloodstained lab coat. No, she was young-mid-thirties, maybe-with auburn curls neatly tucked behind her ears. Her hazel eyes studied me, not with malice or amusement, but something else.

Something close to pity.

"Jo," she greeted softly, like we were old friends. "Please, have a seat."

I remained frozen, glancing toward the guards who still flanked me, their faces impassive. One of them nudged me forward, forcing me toward the examination table.

I sat stiffly, my wrists still sore from the weeks of being shackled.

Dr. Lucy sighed. "The cuffs."

One of the guards shifted. "She's dangerous."

Dr. Lucy's lips thinned. "She's a prisoner, not an animal. Uncuff her."

A tense pause stretched between them before one of the guards finally relented, stepping forward to unlock the restraints. The metal fell away with a dull clink, leaving behind red, irritated skin. I flexed my fingers, the unfamiliar freedom unsettling.

Dr. Lucy pulled on a pair of gloves, her expression calm but assessing. "I'm going to run a few tests."

I tensed as she stepped closer, but her movements were slow, non-threatening. Gentle.

She took my arm, pressing two fingers to the inside of my wrist. Her touch was warm-a stark contrast to the cold indifference I had grown used to.

"You've been vomiting," she said, more a statement than a question.

I swallowed, unwilling to answer.

Her fingers lingered on my wrist, as if feeling for more than just a pulse. "Any dizziness? Fatigue?"

I stared past her, fixing my gaze on a spot on the wall. "Why do you care?" My voice came out hoarse, rough from weeks of silence.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she let go of my wrist and scribbled something on a clipboard.

"I care," she said finally, "because Viper doesn't like damaged goods."

My jaw clenched. I hated the way she said it, like I was some thing to be preserved, a possession rather than a person.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked bluntly.

Dr. Lucy exhaled slowly, lowering her clipboard. "No."

I searched her face for deception, but found none.

"What does he want with me, then?" I pressed.

Her lips parted, then hesitated. Whatever she knew, she wasn't ready to tell me. Instead, she turned to the tray beside her, picking up a syringe.

I stiffened.

"It's just a blood test," she assured me. "I need to check a few things."

My hands curled into fists, but I didn't resist as she tied a band around my arm, her fingers brushing my skin with practiced ease. The sharp prick of the needle barely registered through the numbness that had settled over me.

She drew the vial, filling it with dark crimson, before placing it carefully onto the tray.

The silence stretched between us.

Then, softly-too softly-she said, "Jo... do you know what you are?"

The hairs on my arms rose.

I met her gaze, something icy slithering down my spine. "I know exactly what I am."

She studied me for a long moment, then-almost regretfully-she whispered, "No, you don't."

A chill settled in my bones.

Because in her eyes, I saw it.

A secret.

A truth I wasn't ready for.

And whatever it was...

It was about to change everything.