I think there is a good place to show what Ash looks like BEFORE Trent breaks his face. Just kidding, Trent wouldn't actually do it, even though he is tempted to a few times

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Trent's face drains of color, his eyes fixed on Ash in disbelief. "She's WHAT?" His voice trembles with a potent mixture of fear, anger, and remorse. His fists clench, jaw tightens, his entire body a coiled spring of tension, desperate to unleash its fury. The thought of Valery falling into the hands of the North sends a surge of seething anger through him.

"We suspect she's been taken by the North," Ash explains, choosing his words with care. He maintains a deliberate distance, aware of Trent's volatile emotions, particularly when it comes to Valery. Trent's mind whirls, a tempest of thoughts swirling with thoughts of vengeance and retribution. The very mention of the Devil's Own fuels a fiery rage within him. He mutters a curse, a silent vow to make them pay for their audacity.

"What's the plan? Are you going to try to keep us locked down like you did when she tried to save me?" Trent's voice is sharp with urgency.

"Better," Beth interjects, striding up to him, and securing her sword belt in place. "I'm coming with you."

"Council knows that if we forbid a rescue attempt, you'll just sneak off on your own anyways." Ash continues. "And to prevent going another round with all of you, we'll allow an attempt, giving you the support that you need in order to succeed. We've already arranged a team for you."

"I'll pack my bags." He turns away from Ash, smashes his fist against the wall, wincing in pain, but the physical discomfort does little to quell the fury burning inside him. Just moments ago, she was infront of him. Pissed off, but at least she was there with him. And safe.

"Better prepare for the fight of your life." Ash warns.

"They took her. They are the ones who had better prepare themselves." Trent assures Ash and races out of the room, taking the steps up to his room two at a time.

"I'd say he took that rather well." Ash comments as Trent stomps his way up the stairs, bellowing for Angela and Matt.

Should have been more present, more attuned to her. Instead of being distracted with Cora, I should have listened. She might be safe right now. I should have listened to her. Then she would have told me about leaving. Damn it. Making her feel she couldn't talk to me, no wonder why she runs. I was trying to make her see my way instead of listening to her.

"We're on it." Angela calls to him from her room, her door open, expecting Trent to appear. She's elbows deep in a dresser drawer, yanking out clothes and shoving them into a duffle bag. "Matt's down in the armory, pulling weapons. There's going to be twelve of us."

"The more we have, the better chance we have of getting her out." Trent comments.

"Failure isn't an option." Angela agrees. "We got you out, we can get her too."

"They won't make the same mistakes." Trent warns.

"But we've been in and out. We've learned too." Angela assures him.

Trent nods. He slips into his room and starts preparing his own bag. This is all my fault. I need to learn to listen. She isn't someone I have to be in charge of.

"We really have to stop doing this with the two of you." Matt comments, coming to a stop in Trent's doorway with Cora at his side. Trent turns his head to all Matt to get the full scale of his glare. "I'm just saying." Matt comments with a shrug. "It's always something."

"Like we chose this." Trent snaps, his voice trembles with emotion, his anger now mixed with desperation as he zips his bag shut. "Cora, what's up?"

"I'm coming with you." Cora tells Trent.

"What?" Trent stammers, turning to face her. He takes in her stiff stance, her knotted eyebrows and her no-nonsense demeanor, her crazy head of curls tied up tight at the back of her head. "You're serious."

"Council approved it." Matt grins, a hint of pride to his voice.

"You're not going to get through without me. Since your escape they've released more demonic beasts to patrol their grounds. You're not going to get passed without meeting at least one of them. And no one knows those creatures better than I do. Without me, y'all will be done for." Cora tells him.

"You'll be done for if we fail. They won't lock you up again." Trent warns.

"Didn't you just say failure isn't an option?" Cora fires back.

"Yeah. I did." Trent smirks.

"Then I have nothing to worry about, do I?" Cora asks him.

"You're a welcome gift to the team." Trent tells her.

"Everyone gathered and ready head out." Angela tells them, joining them. Trent nods in agreement.

They head down to the main area to see the nine others waiting on them: Tobi and Jenna, Albert, Uriah, Sabrina, Brent, Natalie, Savannah and Kalina.

"Trent, I..." Savannah begins, her voice quivering with remorse, but the words catch in her throat. She takes a deep breath, attempting to steady herself before continuing. "I was supposed to keep an eye on Valery, but I let her slip away, and now she's gone." The anger in Trent's eyes is evident, and Savannah braces herself for his reaction. She can't help but feel responsible for what happened, and the guilt weighs heavily on her conscience. "I'm so sorry," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words echo in the tense silence between them. She searches for any sign of forgiveness in Trent's expression, but all she sees is pain and anger.

Instead, Trent sighs and places a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault." Trent assures her, his voice gentle despite the anger quaking beneath the surface. "There's only so much you could do. The important thing is you kept your head and got help. If you were taken too, we wouldn't have known. Let's go."

"Now is not the time or place for guilt." Beth tells her. "Put it on a shelf and come back to it later. Everyone needs a clear head so we have the best chance of rescuing her. If you want to REALLY show her how sorry you are, that is what you need to do." Savannah nods to Beth, and readies herself, her facial expressions visibly changing from remorse to determination as she takes a deep breath, doing as Beth asked.

"I have my own car." Kalina tells them. "I can take three more in mine and we'll follow."

"Let's do that. Ang, I want you with her in case we get separated. Brent, Uriah, with her. Savannah, I want you with me so I can hear exactly what happened." Trent decides. He looks at Valery's mom, suddenly uncertain. "That is, um, if that's ok with you."

Beth places her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about me, you take charge of your crew as you wish, and I will do my own thing. You won't know I'm here, I'm not here to step on your toes. Just want my daughter back. I'll take my car and tail you."

"Got it."

"She can take passenger." Matt offers. "I'll sit behind, I want to hear this too."

The group of them rushes out of the building and into their cars, Trent peeling out of the lot with the other drivers hot on his tail. As Savannah talks, Trent feels his blood pressure rise, knowing all too well what hell Valery is going through. Free of the city limits, Trent starts pushing a hundred miles an hour as they angle themselves North, taking a long-abandoned highway, Kalina's honk the only thing telling him that he's pushing too much, she can't keep up.

"Wrapping ourselves around a tree isn't going to do any good." Matt finally comments as Trent lays off the gas. "Relax, we'll get to her in time. She'll be ok. But we have to keep our heads."

Trent nods, setting the cruise control for a saver seventy-five mile an hour pace.

"I could kill someone right now." Trent comments, Savannah's story still echoing in his mind. "I know the mind games they play. And she's been vulnerable as it is. You know she hasn't been the same since her dad died. And they are going to play with that."

"All the more reason for us to make it up there in one piece. She may be hurting, but she isn't broken. She'll stand strong."

Trent nods.

I hope.

Trent drives for three more hours in a tense silence.

Valery lifts her head and looks around her dusty, chilly cell. A thin ray of light filters in from the hall beyond her cell doors, which the shackles around her wrists refrain her from getting anywhere close to. She focuses inward on herself, trying to find her inner fire that burns bright, trying to feel rage, fear, anything to bring the heat surging through to her palms. Nothing. I'm already suppressed. Shit... Now what?

Valery wonders as she curls up into a ball, wrapping her arms around her legs to fend off the chill. It all started in one of these cells. The battles. Dad and Liana dying. The anger and the tension. All because I decided to rescue Trent from this place. It's fitting for it to end here, me in his place. Why didn't I offer a trade, me for him? Cut out all the suffering in between.

Olivia's voice slices through the heavy silence, the air in the dimly lit cell seeming to thicken. "You can't stay away, can you?" Olivia greets, standing outside her cell. Valery pays her no attention. Her mind spins as it is. Valery continues staring at the light on the floor. "Why won't you join us, end all this suffering? Your uncle had a goal of recruiting you, you could be powerful beyond words." Valery feels the weight of her presence, the unyielding determination that radiates from her. She remains resolute, fixated on the solitary beam of light dancing on the cold, damp floor.

"If it isn't our favorite traitorous bitch," Valery's voice cuts through the air, trying to be sharp and unyielding. It barely comes out as a whisper. Her body struggles to move. She tries to spit in her face. It falls short, landing on Olivia's shoe.

Olivia snickers. A resounding smack of the back of her hand against Valery's cheek echoes. Her head spins even worse after that, falling to her knees. The metallic jingle of keys shatters the stillness, the sound reverberating off the stone walls. The door groans open, revealing Olivia's sinister grin. Valery's muscles tense, her resolve hardening as the Devil's Own member steps forward, a vial clutched tightly in his gloved hand.

"No," Valery hisses, her eyes narrowing, refusing to yield an inch.

Olivia's voice oozes with a chilling satisfaction, her words dripping with malevolence. "We tweaked it since your boyfriend visited, this version is much, much stronger my dear. I'm sure you're having a lovely time after that first dose. We have to learn from our mistakes, don't we?"

Dread courses through Valery's veins, her heart pounding against her ribs. The revelation strikes her like a lightning bolt, illuminating the dark truth she has refused to acknowledge. They are banking on her allies' attempt to rescue her, and now they hold all the cards.

Time seems to stretch, each second an eternity as Valery's mind races, seeking a way out of this impending nightmare. She struggles to glance towards the narrow window high on the cell wall, but the iron bars are unforgiving, offering no escape. The scent of dampness and stale air mixes with the acrid tang of anticipation, creating a suffocating atmosphere.

Valery's gaze turns back to Olivia, her jaw clenching in defiance. She will not succumb to the poison they offer, nor will she betray the trust of those who fight for her freedom. In the face of this malevolent power, she finds a newfound determination, a spark of resilience that ignites within her.

As Olivia advances, Valery braces herself. Valery's gaze darts between the advancing needle and Olivia's chilling smile. Her mind races, thoughts colliding in a frantic scramble, unable to coalesce into a solid plan. Each step Olivia takes, each detail etches itself into Valery's consciousness, eternally imprinted.

"No... no more. I-I'll join," Valery pleads, desperation lacing her voice, her eyes never leaving the approaching threat. She feels the walls close in, the air heavy with foreboding.

Olivia's smirk twists, a cynical dance of disbelief. "Oh, how easy, just as I hoped... You think you're so clever, don't you? Did you honestly believe we'd give you the option of doing this with a clear mind?. Guess you don't need to be smart to be the replacement healer, do you?"

Valery's silence hangs in the air, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting strategies. Every beat of her heart reverberates in the suffocating stillness. The needle inches closer, a malevolent glint catching the dim light.

As Olivia draws near, she calls, "Sheila! Get her ankles secured to the wall," Olivia orders, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. The woman Sheila straightens, her movements swift and devoid of emotion. There's a steely resolve in her eyes, promising that she'll be back, her silence louder than any threat.

Valery's heart pounds in her chest. Sheila returns with a sinister assortment of shackles, their cold metal glinting ominously in the dim light. Valery's breath quickens, her body instinctively trying to resist, to fight against the encroaching confinement.

Valery's struggles grow fierce, every muscle straining against the impending restraint. She squirms and writhes, desperation coursing through her veins. Beads of sweat glisten on her forehead. With a cruel efficiency, Sheila delivers a swift prick to Valery's arm, and a creeping numbness races through her limbs. Her once-strong muscles betray her, turning to jelly beneath her. Helplessly, she watches as her ankles are shackled, the cold metal biting into her skin. The sound of bolts securing her to the wall echoes in the suffocating silence.