AUBREY

Strong hands drag me back through the dungeon corridors, my brief taste of freedom already a fading dream. My body aches from the confrontation, but it's nothing compared to the horror of what I discovered in that room. Nora's lifeless form, twisted in the exact position my mother died in—the image burns behind my eyelids like a brand.

They throw me back into the cell with enough force that I hit the stone wall hard. Pain explodes through my shoulder, but before I can recover, Jax enters behind them.

"You won't get away so easily this time," he says, his voice laced with dark amusement as he produces a set of silver shackles.

Ice floods my veins as I recognize the gleam of silver. The regular chains were bad enough, but silver will burn away what little strength I have left, leaving me completely helpless.

I press my back against the wall, jaw clenched in defiant silence. I won't give him the satisfaction of begging.

His smile widens at my resistance. "Still playing the brave little wolf? You should have stayed put, Aubrey. Now you've forced my hand."

The moment the silver touches my skin, agony explodes through my nervous system. The metal sears into my wrists like brands, sending waves of burning pain up my arms. Cold sweat breaks out across my body as the silver begins draining my strength, my wolf retreating deep inside to escape the toxic metal.

I can't stop the scream that tears from my throat as he locks the shackles in place. The burning is unlike anything I've ever experienced—constant, inescapable, eating away at my very essence.

"Perfect," Jax murmurs, stepping back to admire his work. "Now you're exactly where you belong."

I slump against the wall, gasping for breath as the silver continues its assault. Every heartbeat sends fresh waves of weakness through my body. I can barely lift my head when I hear his footsteps approaching again.

"Look at me, Aubrey."

I force my eyes up to meet his storm-gray gaze, hatred burning in my chest despite the pain consuming me.

"You're mine," he says simply. "You've always been mine. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."

Before I can respond, he closes the distance between us. His hand captures my chin roughly, forcing my face up as his lips crash down on mine. The kiss is brutal, dominating, meant to claim rather than share affection.

I struggle against him, but the silver has stolen my strength. My hands shake uselessly in their bonds as his mouth moves against mine with possessive force. Tears of rage and despair slide down my cheeks as I'm forced to endure his assault.

"Stop," I whisper against his lips when he finally pulls back, but my voice comes out broken and weak.

He ignores my plea, his hands beginning to roam over my body with sickening familiarity. Every touch makes my stomach churn with disgust, every caress feeling like a violation of everything I am. My mind screams in resistance even as my body remains powerless to fight back.

"You're trembling," he observes with satisfaction, his fingers tracing along my collarbone. "Good. Fear suits you."

"I'll never be yours," I manage to gasp out, pouring every ounce of defiance I have left into the words.

His laugh is cold and cruel. "We'll see about that."

His hands move lower, and panic explodes through my chest. I can feel his intentions in every possessive touch, in the way his eyes devour my helpless form. The silver burns away my ability to shift, to fight, to do anything but endure whatever he chooses to inflict.

"Please," the word tears from my throat, desperation overriding pride. "Don't do this."

"Begging already?" His voice drips with dark satisfaction. "I thought you had more fight in you."

Just as his hands begin to tug at my torn clothing, a thunderous crash shakes the entire building above us.