Chapter 3
The cold seeped into my bones as I lay on the concrete floor.
I could feel my heartbeat slowing. Each pulse came with more effort than the last, like my heart was forgetting how to function.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. I couldn't tell anymore.
The door suddenly burst open. Light flooded in.
Serena stood there with five of Damien's friends, all holding champagne glasses, all drunk and grinning.
"We came to check on the patient!" Serena announced cheerfully. "Can't have you dying before the fun part."
She tossed something at me — a small vial.
"Wolfsbane antidote," she said. "Take it."
My shaking hands grabbed the vial. I didn't hesitate. I uncorked it and swallowed.
Nothing happened.
Serena burst out laughing.
"Oh my GOD, she actually drank it! It's water, you idiot. Plain water."
The men howled with laughter.
I stared at the empty vial, something inside me cracking.
"Please," I whispered. "Why are you doing this?"
Serena crouched down, tilting her head like she was examining an insect.
"Because I can. Because nobody will believe you. Because you're nobody, Aria. You've always been nobody."
She pulled out her phone and showed me the screen.
A news article from six years ago: "Teenage Girl Claims Assault at Pack Gathering — Investigation Finds Insufficient Evidence."
My blood turned to ice.
"Where did you get that?"
"Oh, it wasn't hard to find." Serena's smile was venom. "You know what's interesting about this article? It says the girl made false claims. Faked her injuries."
"That's not what happened—"
"Nobody cares what happened." Serena showed the article to the men. "See, boys? She has a history. Faking injuries, faking attacks, always playing the victim."
The men's expressions shifted from amusement to disgust.
"What a psycho."
"Damien really dodged a bullet."
Tears burned tracks down my face. That article had destroyed my life once already. I was sixteen. The Alpha's son at a gathering had cornered me. I fought. I screamed. And nobody believed me.
"Now, about why I'm really here." Serena pulled out a syringe. "For my research thesis on wolfsbane tolerance in female wolves. I need a test subject."
My eyes went wide. "No—"
"You owe me, Aria. You embarrassed me in front of three hundred people tonight. You ruined my engagement party with your pathetic theatrics. Consider this your apology."
She jabbed the syringe into my neck before I could react.
Liquid fire raced through my veins. Another dose. A SECOND dose of wolfsbane.
I screamed.
The sound that tore from my throat was barely human — it was the sound of a dying animal.
"Fascinating," Serena murmured, taking notes on her phone. "Subject shows extreme pain response within three seconds. Heart rate likely exceeding 200 BPM."
"HELP ME!" I screamed at the men. "SHE'S KILLING ME!"
They shifted uncomfortably. One muttered, "Dude, she looks really bad..."
Serena rolled her eyes. "She's fine. I calculated the dose carefully. She won't die. Probably."
My body seized. Every muscle contracted at once. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
"Oh wait," Serena said casually. "I just realized — I calculated the dose for a wolf with full healing ability. But your wolf is already suppressed from the first dose, isn't it?"
She tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm. That might be a problem."
I convulsed on the floor, foam forming at the corners of my mouth.
"TYLER!" One of the men suddenly bolted. "Get Damien! She's actually seizing!"
Serena grabbed his arm. "Don't you DARE. If you bring Damien here and ruin my data, I'll tell everyone you were involved."
The man froze.
Serena knelt beside me, watching me convulse with clinical interest.
"You know what would really make my thesis compelling? Testing whether shifting is possible under double wolfsbane suppression."
She leaned close to my ear.
"Shift for me, Aria. Show me your wolf."
I couldn't even speak. My jaw was locked. My spine was arching off the ground.
"No? Fine." She stood. "Boys, drag her outside. I want to try cold exposure therapy."
They dragged me into the frozen December night.
Snow hit my convulsing body.
Serena poured ice water over my head.
"Subject shows no improvement with cold exposure," she narrated into her phone's recorder. "Increasing stimulus."
More water. Bucket after bucket.
I was dying. I knew it with absolute certainty. My heart was stuttering, skipping beats, fighting to keep pumping.
Through my fading vision, I saw one of the men recording on his phone — not to document evidence, but for entertainment. For a viral video.
Something inside me broke completely.
And from that broken place, a single thought emerged with crystal clarity:
*When my father finds them, there won't be enough left to bury.*
I could feel my heartbeat slowing. Each pulse came with more effort than the last, like my heart was forgetting how to function.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. I couldn't tell anymore.
The door suddenly burst open. Light flooded in.
Serena stood there with five of Damien's friends, all holding champagne glasses, all drunk and grinning.
"We came to check on the patient!" Serena announced cheerfully. "Can't have you dying before the fun part."
She tossed something at me — a small vial.
"Wolfsbane antidote," she said. "Take it."
My shaking hands grabbed the vial. I didn't hesitate. I uncorked it and swallowed.
Nothing happened.
Serena burst out laughing.
"Oh my GOD, she actually drank it! It's water, you idiot. Plain water."
The men howled with laughter.
I stared at the empty vial, something inside me cracking.
"Please," I whispered. "Why are you doing this?"
Serena crouched down, tilting her head like she was examining an insect.
"Because I can. Because nobody will believe you. Because you're nobody, Aria. You've always been nobody."
She pulled out her phone and showed me the screen.
A news article from six years ago: "Teenage Girl Claims Assault at Pack Gathering — Investigation Finds Insufficient Evidence."
My blood turned to ice.
"Where did you get that?"
"Oh, it wasn't hard to find." Serena's smile was venom. "You know what's interesting about this article? It says the girl made false claims. Faked her injuries."
"That's not what happened—"
"Nobody cares what happened." Serena showed the article to the men. "See, boys? She has a history. Faking injuries, faking attacks, always playing the victim."
The men's expressions shifted from amusement to disgust.
"What a psycho."
"Damien really dodged a bullet."
Tears burned tracks down my face. That article had destroyed my life once already. I was sixteen. The Alpha's son at a gathering had cornered me. I fought. I screamed. And nobody believed me.
"Now, about why I'm really here." Serena pulled out a syringe. "For my research thesis on wolfsbane tolerance in female wolves. I need a test subject."
My eyes went wide. "No—"
"You owe me, Aria. You embarrassed me in front of three hundred people tonight. You ruined my engagement party with your pathetic theatrics. Consider this your apology."
She jabbed the syringe into my neck before I could react.
Liquid fire raced through my veins. Another dose. A SECOND dose of wolfsbane.
I screamed.
The sound that tore from my throat was barely human — it was the sound of a dying animal.
"Fascinating," Serena murmured, taking notes on her phone. "Subject shows extreme pain response within three seconds. Heart rate likely exceeding 200 BPM."
"HELP ME!" I screamed at the men. "SHE'S KILLING ME!"
They shifted uncomfortably. One muttered, "Dude, she looks really bad..."
Serena rolled her eyes. "She's fine. I calculated the dose carefully. She won't die. Probably."
My body seized. Every muscle contracted at once. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
"Oh wait," Serena said casually. "I just realized — I calculated the dose for a wolf with full healing ability. But your wolf is already suppressed from the first dose, isn't it?"
She tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm. That might be a problem."
I convulsed on the floor, foam forming at the corners of my mouth.
"TYLER!" One of the men suddenly bolted. "Get Damien! She's actually seizing!"
Serena grabbed his arm. "Don't you DARE. If you bring Damien here and ruin my data, I'll tell everyone you were involved."
The man froze.
Serena knelt beside me, watching me convulse with clinical interest.
"You know what would really make my thesis compelling? Testing whether shifting is possible under double wolfsbane suppression."
She leaned close to my ear.
"Shift for me, Aria. Show me your wolf."
I couldn't even speak. My jaw was locked. My spine was arching off the ground.
"No? Fine." She stood. "Boys, drag her outside. I want to try cold exposure therapy."
They dragged me into the frozen December night.
Snow hit my convulsing body.
Serena poured ice water over my head.
"Subject shows no improvement with cold exposure," she narrated into her phone's recorder. "Increasing stimulus."
More water. Bucket after bucket.
I was dying. I knew it with absolute certainty. My heart was stuttering, skipping beats, fighting to keep pumping.
Through my fading vision, I saw one of the men recording on his phone — not to document evidence, but for entertainment. For a viral video.
Something inside me broke completely.
And from that broken place, a single thought emerged with crystal clarity:
*When my father finds them, there won't be enough left to bury.*