Chapter 2
Laughter can be heard throughout the clearing. The man's hand is still wrapped around my hair and the barrel of the gun is pressed against the side of my head. The ten or so guards crowded around us are having a hard time keeping in their amusement.
"You thought you could get away!" one of them laughs, holding their stomach.
I narrow my eyes, willing myself not to do something stupid.
'Keep your mouth shut. Do not speak unless spoken to,' my wolf snarls for the first time.
Clamping my mouth shut, I try to ignore the chill feeling of the gun pressed against my temple.
"You are never going to get away," the man behind me sneers.
The men continue to laugh like hyenas as they each throw an insult my way.
"What were you running from, sweetheart?" the man whispers.
I make no move to answer, and this only amuses the crowd even more.
"Probably yourself. You are a worthless Omega after all," a man from the crowd jokes, his lip curling in disgust.
Glaring over at the man, I struggle in my captive's hold.
"Don't move," the man growls with an aura of power emanating from him.
Gulping, I immediately still, knowing they will not be afraid to use the gun on me. Screwing my eyes shut, I pray that this is only a dream. In a few minutes, I'll wake up and this will all just fade away.
This is only a nightmare. It can't be reality, can it?
"Now. You're going to do everything that we ask you to. Or else you'll find a bullet in that pretty little head of yours. Understand?" he says softly, tracing my cheek with the gun.
I harshly bite my lip and nod my head fervently. I would do everything they said. I had to. This was Westwood pack. The most ruthless pack in America. They would strap me to the wall and torture me in a second, but it wouldn't just be silver knives and whips. Their torture chambers were much, much worse. Their favorite pastime was bathing prisoners in silver and I was now a prisoner. Doing whatever they said was a small price to pay in order to maintain my safety. No matter how much I would be tortured or insulted on a daily basis, I still wanted to live. And by disrespecting the Westwood's it would only guarantee my demise.
"Good," he smirks, cocking his head to the side, "Now, you're gonna follow me and you're keep your mouth shut. Understand?"
Nodding my head again, I hold my breath as he slowly takes away the gun and latches his hand on my wrist.
"Oh, and don't you dare think about running. Cause I'll find you and I'll catch you. I'll make sure that this is ten times worse the second time around," he smiles evilly.
Widening my eyes as a lump grows in my throat, I lower my head in an attempt to show him my submission. The smirk that graces his face makes bile rise in my throat. Grabbing my chin, he yanks my head up and looks me in the eyes.
"That's sweet, but I would save your submission for the Alpha. He is gonna have a lot of fun with you," he chuckles, bringing the gun back up to my face.
Holding my breath, I wince slightly as his finger twitches on the trigger.
"Now, now sweetheart. No flinching," he smirks.
Swallowing hard, I straighten back to my original height and look him straight in the eye. I will not be weak.
"I'm not afraid of you," I nearly growl.
He raise an eyebrow as a smile slips onto his face. "Now, Honey, you and I both know that that's not true."
A defiant look crosses my face and I will myself to calm down. I can feel the stinging pinch in my nails as my claws grow to their full length.
"You don't scare me," I say again, gritting my teeth.
"The one thing you need to learn right now is that you don't lie to the Westwoods. Those who do die a painful death," he spits out, sinking his claws into my arm.
My lip is once again clamped between my teeth, stopping myself from crying out.
"Now, let's go," he growls, yanking me by the arm.
The sounds of countless growls echo around the forest as the man releases my arm and lowers himself into a fighting stance. My old captives charge up to the border line, led by a wolf I have never seen before. Their growls are immediately stilled as they take in the guards. The unfamiliar wolf shifts into human form and crosses his arms over his chest. The aura of power that he holds lets me know that it is an Alpha standing in front of us.
"I want my Omega back," he sneers.
"She is not yours to take," the man in front of me snaps.
"I paid money for her!" the Alpha screams.
The man in front of me stands to his full height and cocks his head to the side.
"Well isn't that just unfortunate. She wandered onto our land, she's our property now," he scoffs.
"She is mine! I paid for her!" the Alpha screams again.
"Well, she is a prisoner of the Westwood pack. Taking her starts a war. Are you prepared for that, pup?" the man taunts.
A powerful growl rips through the forest, making my legs shake and my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach.
"This is not over. She is my property!" the Alpha growls, before shifting into his wolf and sprinting away.
My old captives say nothing and turn to follow after the Alpha.
The man turns back to me and latches onto my arm once again. He drags me after him harshly, making me stumble over my feet. My heart rate accelerates and panic begins to set in.
I was a prisoner of the Westwood pack. I had defied the Westwoods. I was going to die. The things that my old captives had done to me bared no comparison to the things that the ruthless Westwood Alpha would do. He was deadly, dangerous. If I was lucky he would snap my neck instantly, but of course I was never one for luck.
With every step, the man's nails sunk deeper and deeper into my arm. The tears that well up in my eyes I blink away, unwilling to let them see my pain. We approach a giant cement building. The entrance is covered in shrubs and if you didn't know the land, the door would never have been seen. Yanking me into the building after quickly inputting the password, he shuts the door behind us. An eerie chill runs up my spine as I take in the prison. The walls are lined with unconscious prisoners chained to the walls. The bars are clearly made of silver and the smell of vomit and blood causes me to gag. We walk halfway down the hall before he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the nearest door, before shoving me inside. I hit the ground with a grunt and turn to glare at the guard who threw me inside. A smile graces his face.
"The Alpha will see you soon," he says, turning on his heel and leaves the prison.
Huffing, I scoot back until my back hits the wall and bring my knees to my chest. Looking around the cell, I take in the mold growing in the corner and the droopy ceiling. Leaning my head back on the brick wall, all the emotions that I had tried to keep locked away come spilling out.