Chapter 3: Prisoners Club

Aila dragged her chained feet down a grungy hallway with her hands bound in front of her. She was jabbed and pushed every few minutes by Connor to quicken her steps. But how could she when she felt so weak? She did not know what the hell that wolfsbane was, but there was a constant burn simmering through her veins, the feeling lessened from earlier, but it never left.

Although her mind was hazy from the beating and the drug, she still glanced around at her surroundings, looking for any means of escape. But all she saw was a darkened hallway with numbered doors on one side, and the only windows on the opposite side were near the ceiling. Connor noticed her head turn to look at the windows and immediately slapped the back of her head, which dropped down. Aila really did not fancy another hit to her head; she felt worse than when she had an awful hangover after New Year's Eve, and that was saying something. She was a lightweight trying to keep up with her university pals who partied all the time, not her best idea.

They were now at the end of the hallway. Connor walked ahead and opened the locked metal door by pressing the numbered keypad at the side; Aila tried to subtly look over his shoulder but to no avail. He blocked her view and was far too quick inputting the code. Grabbing her by the arm, he dragged her through the open door, which led to a concrete staircase. The stairs were dimly lit from the single sidelight stuck to the wall, making it hard for Aila to place her footing.

As they descended the darkened stairs quickly, Aila found herself raising her arms to regain her balance many times and to stop herself from falling. This only made Connor angry, and by the time they made it halfway down, he kicked her from behind her knees, making her fall down the remaining steps and crashing down at the bottom of the stairs. Luckily, she kept her head protected; only the rest of her body took the brunt of the fall.

Aila groaned on the dirty floor, her body was not only on fire, but pain shot through her as her muscles constricted under the sudden assault to her body. She already knew bruises were forming on her skin, and she may have a cracked rib.

"Get up, mutt!" Connor yelled from the stairs.

Aila breathed heavily as she forced herself to her knees. However, she felt dizzy and stopped herself from moving any further. The flickering of lights above them was the only sound made in the dungy basement room they were now in. Connor yanked her up by the arm and pushed her forwards once again; her legs stumbled, but she managed to regain her balance.

Looking up, she saw three silver cells connected at the far end of the room. Aila gasped after seeing three bodies, one in each room, slouched or lying on the floor in such an inhumane state that she felt like attacking the man whose wicked smile formed on his face.

As they approached the cells, Aila noticed a wooden post to the side of the room with numerous chains on the floor. Bloodstains were splattered across the bar and its surroundings. What were they doing to these poor people? What was the point in it all?

Aila looked ahead of her once again; they were now standing in front of the middle cell. Her eyes glanced up to the small window at the far top of the back wall before they settled on the figure slumped on the floor, their back facing the barred door. It was then she detected the metallic smell and taste that floated in the air, fresh blood; she looked at Connor, who crinkled his nose in disgust. He glared at her, making her head face the front again.

"Well, men, it looks like you have a new lady friend" He spat the word men, then he looked at Aila and pointed his grotty finger in her face, and mockingly said, "Stay."

Aila returned a glare in his direction, but he was too distracted by unlocking the cell door; she watched as he put the keys into his back pocket but quickly looked away when he glanced at her.

"Good girl!" His ever-so-sweet voice made her want to punch him in the throat.

Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hair roughly, making her grimace. If he kept doing that, she would have no hair left! He held her head back while he used his other hand to remove the chains from her wrists, then he threw her in the cell before slamming it shut. Aila scrambled to sit up then slid back to the cold cell wall, far away from the devil at the other side of the bars. He smirked at her before walking away; her body was still tense as she heard his footsteps echo on the stairs, ending with a slam of the metal door.

Sighing, she looked down and went to remove her chains around her ankles, but as she touched the metal, she hissed and brought her hands back. Her fingers felt burnt from where she placed them on the chains. She continued to assess the tips of her fingers; they were now slightly red. It was then she noticed her wrists were red raw from the chains wrapped around them earlier. Did they put a chemical on the chains or something?

Without overthinking it, Aila forced herself to bear through the pain of removing her chains; she did it as quick as possible and, at last, threw it across the cell. The crashing sound echoed throughout the basement they were in. Taking a deep breath in, she mustered all the depleting energy she had left and pulled herself away from the floor before jumping up and holding herself against the windowsill.

Her features fell as soon as she looked outside. The only view was of a grassy field, and further into the distance were a set of trees—nothing to indicate where she was. The sky was dark and ominous as the clouds cried, spitting down ferociously at the ground below it; the weather added to how she felt, depressing her further. Dismayed, she let herself drop to the floor.

"Don't even think about trying to escape."

A bored voice startled her from her reverie. She turned back around and saw a man approach the bars from the left cell. His features came into view the closer he got. The first thing she noticed was a pair of emerald green eyes; the pupils were slitted, like cat eyes. They were bright against his olive complexion and his long, unkempt, black hair that reached his shoulders. His small beard hid his sharp jaw, but Aila could make it out. The clothes he wore were tattered and torn, but they looked something similar to grey coveralls.

"Trust me, we have been here long enough and tried every possible escape route there is. I am only forewarning you to save yourself from extra punishments."

Aila approached the bars herself and wrapped her hands around them but quickly hissed and backed away, grasping her hands as pain shot through them once again; glancing down at her fingers, she found blisters now forming on them. What the hell?

"Watch the bars. They are made out of silver." 'Cat-eyes' deadpanned.

She looked up at him in confusion,

"Why would silver have an effect on me?"

Cat-eyes tilted his head at her, a grin forming on his handsome features,

"Silver affects all werewolves.."

"Werewolves?" She burst out laughing; even saying the word out loud felt ridiculous. But as her laughter faded, silence filled the room. She glanced back at cat-eyes and saw a genuine expression on his face. Aila continued to stare into those eyes; they could have been contacts, but who was she kidding? Nobody would keep up that charade for however long they had been there. Yet, if he was a werewolf, why did he have cat eyes?

"What are you? You are not a were- a werewolf?" She blurted out, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"I most certainly am not a werewolf! I am a shapeshifter."

"You are acting like I already know what that means.."

"It means I can still transform, but I am not restricted to one animal like a werewolf. Like you."

Aila nodded her head as though the conversation they were having was like her asking if he preferred french fries or curly.

"Look, I don't think I am a werewolf. I mean.. I have always been allergic to silver. My ex-boyfriend actually brought me a silver necklace once, but it caused a rash... It never affected me like that" Aila glanced down at her hands again as little puzzle pieces started to click together in her mind, making more and more sense. When she looked back up, she saw cat eyes looking at her oddly.

However, Aila couldn't help herself, she just stared back at him, she really had never seen such beautiful eyes before, of course, she had seen them on a cat, but this was a man, who was a shapeshifter? Who stood there, casually, holding her gaze.

Instead of showing unease towards her and her unwavering stare, he perked up and put on a grand voice,

"Well, why don't I give you an introduction to the 'Prisoners Club,'" He held his hands out in front of him in a theatrical manner. "Here is our schedule: Gabriel over there gets tortured Monday to Wednesday." The man pointed in the direction behind her, "Finn gets tortured Thursdays and Saturdays." He nodded his head at the man on the floor who shared the same cell as her, "and I get tortured Friday and Sundays. My name is Ajax. I would say it is a pleasure, but well the circumstances could be better. Speaking of which, now you are here, we should have a bit of a vacation."

What the fu-

"Stop scaring the poor pup."

"Oh, my apologies, that's normally your job Gabriel."

Aila turned in the opposite direction to Ajax. In the right cell, a man stood staring down at her from the shadows, his short white hair was nearly as luminous as hers, and his eyes were a deep blue that suddenly widened as their eyes met. His already pale complexion lost even more colour as though he was looking at a ghost.

"Amelia?" His angelic voice questioned.

"No, my name is Aila."

Pain flashed across his eyes, but she could not tell if she imagined it as his face hardened instantly, diminishing any emotion. He looked her up and down coldly,

"Is your last name by any chance- Cross?"

Aila tensed as she stared wide-eyed at this compelling being in front of her.

"That is my birth name. I was adopted when I was 8. How the hell do you know my last name? Nobody knows it."

The white-haired man, Gabriel, shrugged before hiding back in the shadows.

"Hey, I asked-"

After hearing a groan coming from the floor, she cut herself off, the man, Finn? Was groaning in pain, she began to step towards him,

"Hey" Her voice was gentle as she approached him, her hands up to show she did not mean any harm.

"I would leave him, doll. Wolves tend to lash out when they are injured," Ajax spoke from the side.

The next thing Aila knew, she was being pinned up against the wall, the man's hand against her throat as his nails grew black and into claws, tearing into her skin slightly; his eyes were glowing amber as he growled at her fiercely. A small growl erupted from her chest as her lips pulled back involuntarily, warning the guy to stand down. His eyes widened, the glow diminishing as he released her. Stepping back, he bared his neck to her then kneeled on the floor by her feet,

"I am sorry." He stuttered.

Aila's eyes were wide in shock, her hand was placed on her lips, "What the hell, I just growled.. What, why is he kneeling?"

"Looks like you just alpha'd his ass" Ajax grinned; his arms were crossed against his chest as he looked on amused.

"Alpha?! Alpha of what pack?"

"Well.. Prisoners Club of course. We tend to stick together" He winked at her.

Ajax must have a screw loose in his head; he was far too cheery in such a place. She wondered if she would lose her own mind. At that thought, she sat down and leaned against the wall again, her eyes downcast with a gloomy expression. Her mind spun with one word that caused the chaos in her head.

Werewolf.

She was a fricken werewolf.