Darius's POV
My wrists burned against the silver chains. Each breath pulled the metal tighter, reminding me of my failure.
I'd been caught.
The dungeon beneath Kieran's house reeked of fear and old blood. Other prisoners had died here, their terror still sticking to the stone walls. Soon, I might join them.
"Comfortable?" Ronan's cold voice came from the shadows. The Phantom Wolf stepped into view, a small bottle in his hand. The green liquid inside glowed softly.
My stomach twisted. Truth potion. Brewed from moonflower and silver dust – painful for werewolves, and impossible to resist.
"The Alpha will be here soon," Ronan said, setting the bottle on a small table. "Enjoy your last moments of keeping secrets."
I spat on the floor. "I have nothing to hide."
Ronan laughed. "We caught you sending messages to the Midnight Syndicate. Your scent was all over the dead messenger wolf we found at the border."
