Her scream was stopped by the feel of a strong hand being pressed to her mouth, and she felt herself being lifted up despite her struggle.
"Stay quiet, girl." The leader of the trio with her said. "We just want a good time with you for the night. We promise to let you go as soon as we are done."
"Let you go to the brothels, he means." Another one joked, causing cruel laughter to erupt from the three rogues.
All around other werewolves walked past in their human forms, none looking in their direction or even caring enough to interfere. She too stopped struggling against them because her body ached and because no one was going to pay attention to them because of who they were and the notorious reputation they had.
They were the Rogue Three, a trio of brown-furred Rogue Wolves cast away from their packs and famous for their heinous crimes. Secretly, other wolves feared them because they were powerful and did not hesitate to kill anyone standing in their way.
No one bothered about her too, because she was a Rogue Female.
They took her while other werewolves looked away and tossed her into the back of a truck where she tried to get herself loose and run off only to be thrown back in with a hard slap.
Priscilla rose and tried to jump out but the truck's back door was slammed back in her face, the steel sound echoing in her ears. She slammed her fists on the metal and screamed, but the small vacuum space did nothing but make her feel claustrophobic with how dark it was.
It took some time before the truck began moving, and as it did through the night Priscilla cried and howled, morphing into her wolf form, whining and scratching against the sides of the metal cage she was trapped in.
"Go in there and keep that girl quiet." She heard one of them roar over the sound of the engine when there was the sudden sound of screeching tyres as it jerked to a stop, one so hard she was slammed into a corner.
There was dead silence for a few seconds, and then even more minutes and the suspense was so intense that it threatened to kill her until a voice outside asked:
"Priscilla Martin is in the back of that truck, isn't she?"
Her pulse instantly quickened at the sound of her name. Who wanted her, and what did that person want to do with her?
"We only took a girl someone cast out from his room. Cold product, I think." One of them answered.
"Bring her to me. I have bought her for myself, and she is mine."
"We have taken her for ourselves, Alpha. Go away, or do you not fear the Black Three?"
"I do not know the Black Three, and I think that if they stand before me, they should be the ones to be afraid."
Laughter followed this, and then silence. Cold, dead silence.
All of a sudden there was a loud yelp followed by growls, and Priscilla struggled to look outside so she would see what was happening. The window was too small, however, so that she could barely see a thing, her view obstructed on all sides.
Over the next fifteen minutes, she scratched with her paws, trying to get to know what was happening outside, or at least to find enough space for her escape. There was a fight going on, for sure, but who was fighting who was what confused her.
All of a sudden they finally came within sight. There were still three wolves, but one was fighting the other two and looking as though he had the better of them, himself without a single scratch.
She watched as the one fighting the rest caught the throat of one of the other two and held him down until the third bowed low, his tail curled up between his legs in surrender.
At long last, and there was a winner now.
He let the one between his jaws go, and that one limped away. Soon there was the metallic sound of the back of the truck being opened, and there stood a man offering his hand.
It was dark, and the moonlight was dim, but how could she forget that outline, those broad shoulders that reminded her that he was the very same man who had just kicked her out of his room?
She morphed back into her human form, took it and came out, instantly understanding why the truck had stopped so suddenly.
In front of it was a carelessly parked car, which meant that it had made the screeching sound, overtaking the truck and coming to quite a careless stop in front of it.
"Priscilla Martin, right?" He asked, leading her away as one wolf of the Rogue Three looked on helplessly and the other licked his wounds.
"Yes." She agreed.
"I have an interest in you." He said, going from the truck to the car so carelessly flung in the truck's way. Only a few seconds late, and their truck would have crashed into the smaller car, shredding it in pieces. "I got to hear about you and it turns out you suit a purpose I would like for myself."
Priscilla heaved a quiet sigh, her eyes stinging. To hear it being said so frankly like this— that she suited a purpose, simply meant that she was going to be used again in someplace different. To them, a Rogue Wolf counted just as much as a slave.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not see what was before her until she slipped on it and fell upon the dead body of one of the Rogue Wolves lying with his throat ripped out.
Her voice echoed as she screamed and rose as fast as she could, looking at where the wolves had been. There, only two stood, watching her.
Stunned, she turned to look at the Alpha who bought her.
"You killed him..." she gasped.
"Nobody looks me in the eye and tells me what to do, Priscilla. Doing that only means one of us has to die, and often, that one person is not me." He said nonchalantly, without even sparing her a side glance.
It made her marvel at what kind of werewolf he was. He did not even seem bothered by it in the least.
They got to his red sports car and he opened one of the doors, leaving it and going to the other side. "Now get in the car, young girl. We have a long way to go tonight."
Timidly, she got in, her nostrils filling up with the sweet scent of his car. However, she was thinking of a lot more questions coming into her mind that she wanted to ask him.
And going by the number of them in her head, there were lots of them to ask.