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"Do you know what he wants?" I ask, my mind racing with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
Chloe shakes her head, her voice barely audible. "He hasn't said much. Just... he keeps muttering about revenge and making things right. Zoe, I'm scared. What if he... what if he hurts us?"
I nod, processing this information, trying to push down the rising panic. My eyes scan the room, desperately searching for any means of escape.
The basement is sparse – concrete floors, bare walls, a small window too high and too small to offer an escape route. There's a threadbare couch pushed against one wall, a rickety table with two chairs, and a door that I assume leads to a bathroom.
The window is too small and too high to be an escape route. The door looks solid, with no visible weak points. But there has to be something we can use.
"We need to find a way out of here," I say, more to myself than to Chloe.
She looks at me with hope and fear. "Do you really think we can?"
I meet her gaze, summoning every ounce of determination I possess. "We have to try."
For the next hour, Chloe and I methodically examine every inch of our prison. We test the strength of the chairs, look for loose nails or screws, even check if the table legs could be unscrewed and used as weapons. But everything is frustratingly secure.
As our search proves fruitless, I feel the first tendrils of despair creeping in. I slump against the wall, closing my eyes for a moment. Unbidden, an image of Marcus flashes through my mind—his strong, reassuring presence, the way he always made me feel safe. God, I wish he were here now.
"Are you okay?" Chloe asks, her voice laced with concern.
I open my eyes and give her a weak smile. "Just... thinking about someone."
She nods, a knowing look in her eyes. "Marcus?"
I nod. "Yeah. I can't stop thinking about him."
Chloe settles beside me, her shoulder brushing mine in a gesture of solidarity. "Want to talk about it? Might help take our minds off... this," she gestures vaguely at our surroundings.
For a moment, I hesitate. But there's something about our shared predicament that breaks down the usual barriers.
"It's just... so complicated," I begin, surprised by the warmth that floods through me at just thinking about Marcus. "With Liam and the pack dynamics and everything."
Chloe nods encouragingly. "But you care about him."
I smile, thinking of the rare moments when Marcus let his guard down around me. "Yeah, I do. He's been so protective lately, with all the threats against single women in the pack."
"And you've fallen for him," Chloe says softly. It's not a question.
I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. "I... I don't know. Maybe."
Chloe reaches out and squeezes my hand. "The heart wants what it wants," she says with a small smile. "Even when it's inconvenient."
Her words hit home, and I feel a lump forming in my throat. "Yeah," I whisper. "I just... I keep thinking about him, wishing he was here to help us. But then I feel guilty for not being strong enough to get us out of this myself."
"Hey," Chloe says firmly, "wanting help doesn't make you weak. We're pack, even if I'm... well, even if I'm not exactly a normal pack member."
Her words pique my curiosity. "What do you mean?"
Chloe hesitates, then takes a deep breath. "I... I can't shift," she admits, her voice barely audible. "I was born a wolf-shifter, butI've never been able to actually shift. It's... it's not something I talk about much."
The vulnerability in her admission touches something deep inside me. I squeeze her hand, offering what comfort I can. "That must be really hard," I say softly.
She nods, blinking back tears. "It is. But... it's who I am. I've learned to live with it, even if some pack members look at me differently."
Her strength in the face of adversity is inspiring. "You're amazing, you know that?" I tell her. "And we're going to get out of here together, I promise."
Chloe gives me a watery smile. "Thanks, Zoe. I'm glad I'm not alone in this."
