Lysandra led me into that elevator first, taking us down to what seemed like the lowest floor. But she didn’t stop there, instead gulding me to a staircase that went even deeper,
The stairway seemed endless, winding deeper and deeper beneath the earth. The air grew thicker, mustier with each step, carrying strange scents I couldn’t quite identify. Lysandra moved with practiced ease, her steps confident in the dim light.
“How long do we have to walk?” I asked, my voice sounding thin in the narrow passage. The gun remained steady in my hand, though my palms had grown slick with nervous sweat.
“It usually doesn’t take this long if I am alone, but I have to match pace with you,” she replied, glancing back over her shoulder. “We
are close.”
The stairway finally leveled out into a wide corridor lined with doces–heavy metal doors with small, barred windows. A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the cool underground air.
“What is this?” I whispered, unable to keep the unease from my voice
“Very curious, aren’t you? You will soon find out.” Lysandra approached one of the doors, extracting a key from her pocket. The lock clicked open with a sound that seemed to echo through the corridor
She pushed the door wide, gesturing for me to enter. 1 hesitated, the gun suddenly feeling heavier in my hand. Whatever was behind that door, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see it.
After a moment’s hesitation, I stepped forward, my breath catching in my throat as the room came into view.
It was a cell–a prison cell, but not like any I’d seen before. The space was small but clean, with a narrow bed against one wall and minimal furnishings. What made my heart stop was its occupant.
A young woman sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes widening with fear as the door opened. She was beaut with pale skin and dark hair that fell in waves past her shoulders. A silver collar encircled her neck, attached to a chain that ran to a ring in the wall.
“What is this?” I asked again, my voice barely audible.
Lysandra closed the door gently, the lock clicking back into place. “The Ravenhollow pack is one of the richest and well–known packs. We operate in many businesses; we are the best at everything, but none is more rewarding than the slave trade.”
The words hit me like a blow. Slave trade, I thought of my mother, who had spent decades as a slave in the Mistwood pack. I had seen the toll it had taken on her–the broken spirit, the scarred hand, the lost years. The thought that Kaius was involved in perpetuating that same system made me physically ill.
“They’re mostly human females,” Lysandra continued, moving to the next door. “Some are sold to other packs, senie to wealthy wolves who prefer having human servants. The more beautiful ones. She trailed off, letting me fill in the blanks..
I looked through the small window of the next cell. Another woman, younger than the first, perhaps only eighteen or nineteen. She sat in the corner, knees drawn up to her chest, eyes vacant,
“That’s not–all–there is to see, Lysandra said, taking my arm gently at firmly. “I did warn you, Kaius is no good for you, and this pack is not good for you either.”
She guided me further down the corridor, past more doors, more windows, more captive women. With each face I saw, my heart sank lower, my grip on the gun growing tighter.
hare were made of a thick, clear material rather than metal.
Lysandra stopped before one of these transparent doors. “See for yo
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