Page 13 of Vicious Luna

He’s wearing thigh-hugging dark wash jeans and a faded grey t-shirt that does nothing to disguise his build underneath. His body is absolutely shredded, and paired with the whole tall, dark, and tattooed thing he’s got going on… yeah, I’m fucked. I must’ve watched Beauty and the Beast too many times growing up, because even though I’m literally being held prisoner, his whole vibe is totally working for me.

I should probably seek therapy in the future to unpack that.

Cam strides over to my cell with a confident swagger, carrying a stack in his hands that appears to be a towel and some fresh clothing. He drops them onto the metal folding chair he occupied last night, then approaches the cell door,eyeing my empty tray on the floor before proceeding to stick the key in the lock.

“Ready for your first interrogation?” he asks as the lock turns over with a metallic click.

I bristle, preparing myself for a fight. If he’s planning to use the same ‘interrogation’ techniques on me that were used on Tommy, I’m not about to take it lying down. Focusing my mind, I try to call on my inner wolf for strength, but she’s still dormant.Damnit. The wolfsbane should’ve started to wear off by now.

Cam pauses before pushing the cell door open, his nose wrinkling with a grimace. “But first, I’m taking you for a shower,” he says bluntly as his gaze collides with mine, his eyes so dark they’re almost black. “You reek like wet dog.”

Indignant rage scorches my veins. My cheeks burn, lips twisting in a scowl as I glare back at him.

He remains infuriatingly calm. “You need to behave, alright?” Cam murmurs, pushing against the cell door. It swings open between us with an ominous creak. “If you try anything, you’ll only make it harder on yourself.”

Drawing a deep breath, I try calling on my inner wolf again, scraping at the recesses of my mind for any sign of her. I’m only met with unnerving silence.

Cam’s lips curl in a smirk as he crooks a finger to beckon me, and even without my wolf or any real plan, I decide to make a break for it. Not that I’m expecting he’ll actually let me get away easily, but it’s the only way to truly gauge what I’m up against here. Keeping my eyes locked with his, I take a slow, measured step forward, as if I’m complying. Then another. As soon as I reach the threshold of the cell, I dart past him, aiming for the stairs.

He’s on me in an instant. His response time actually takes me by surprise, and I suck in a sharp gasp as his weight slams against my back, sending me sprawling forward into the wall across from my cell. I barely manage to catch myself on it withmy palms so I don’t break my pretty face on the concrete, and Cam’s big body immediately crowds me in from behind. He grabs for my hands, wrenching them behind my back in one fluid movement.

“What’d I just say about behaving?” he pants, his warm breath skating across my neck as he leans his face down beside mine. His body presses in tighter, pinning me between him and the wall so securely that I can barely even move.

“Fuck you,” I hiss through gritted teeth, squirming against him. He’s much better trained than I anticipated. With his weight at my back and his hold on my wrists, he’s effectively rendered me immobile. Even his legs are pressing in against mine to prevent me from kicking him.

“Nah, I’m not into bestiality,” he scoffs, transferring both of my wrists to one hand. He wraps his other arm tightly around my waist, taking a step backwards and yanking me with him.

“Let me go!” I yell, thrashing and kicking as he starts muscling me down the hallway, seemingly unaffected by my struggle. My gaze catches on the interior of the neighboring cell as he forces me past it, and a wave of nausea hits me so hard that it’s a miracle I’m able to keep down the precious little food I’ve been given.

There’s so much blood.

Tommy isn’t anywhere to be seen, but from the amount of dried blood coating the floor and splattering the walls, I can only assume I’m looking at a murder scene. My stomach bottoms out, breath stalling and heart racing as I take it in. I start struggling in earnest as I’m shoved past the second cell and through a doorway at the end of the hall, stumbling forward when Cam finally releases his hold on me.

I manage to catch myself before I faceplant on the tile floor, straightening my posture and whipping around to face my captor. My throat tightens when I realize we’re nowstanding in a small bathroom and he’s pulled the door shut behind him, sealing us inside.

Don’t panic.

This room is small, though.Really small. And there are no windows. There’s just a toilet, a sink, and a shower cubicle.

Cam positions himself squarely in front of the door, folding his arms over his chest and nodding toward the shower. “Wash up,” he directs in a clipped tone.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” I grit out, fisting my hands at my sides.

As much as I don’t want to give this asshole a peep show right now, if he leaves me in this room by myself, I might go into a full-blown panic attack. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, but with as worked up as I am right now, I can’t be locked in this tiny room alone.I can’t.The mere thought of it has my airway constricting, a shudder running through me as I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood.

“Yes,” Cam replies bluntly. “I have to watch you, make sure you don’t try to pull anything stupid.” He shrugs a shoulder and kicks up a foot to rest on the door behind him, the picture of nonchalance.

I snort a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, and I’m sure that has nothing to do with seeing me naked.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters boredly. “If I wanted a strip show, I’d get one from arealwoman, not a fucking mutant.”

If he’s attempting to break me down with humiliation, he’s way off base. For one, I know I’m a total babe. I’m not cocky, just self-aware. And for two, I’m ashifter. I’ve never been ashamed of nudity. I get naked in front of other people every time I shift and never bat an eye.

So, I just huff in annoyance as I turn on a heel, stomping over to the shower cubicle and twisting the water on. The cold spray soaks my arm before I can jump back, and I immediatelystart stripping out of my dirty clothes, not even bothering to wait for the shower to warm up. The sooner I get clean, the sooner I can leave this oppressively small room.

Tossing my soiled clothes aside, I step beneath the spray, sucking in a breath as the cold water shocks my system. Then I squeeze my eyes closed, giving my body a few seconds to adjust to the temperature. Once my muscles relax and my breathing returns to normal, I open them again and look around.

The only thing on the little shelf built into the shower wall is a bottle of one of those weird three-in-one combo washes for men that supposedly acts as a body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. I call bullshit on those claims, but since I haven’t showered in days and beggars can’t be choosers, I reach for the bottle and pop the cap.