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"Hey!"
The sound of Dahmer's boots slammed repeatedly against the iron door, each strike echoing in the enclosed space he was locked in. The space reeked of damp stone and neglect, and the biting chill seeped into his skin, gnawing at his bones.
No food, no warmth — not even the thinnest scrap of cloth was given so he could ward off the cold. He had only the unyielding darkness to keep him company.
His eyes, bloodshot and haunted, burned with the sharp sting that came with losing a wolf. His wolf was gone, and the image of Esme's cold face flashed in his mind.
He never imagined she could be so heartless. When he had her locked in the pack house, at least he didn't starve her to death. And somehow, she had managed to woo even the cursed Alpha. With that monstrous power shielding her, any attempt to gain control was futile.
