Chapter Text
Lambert's frown deepened as his gaze locked on Cassie. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Wandering." Cassie retreated half a step as his clenched fist made his posture read like violence waiting. "Kestrel said it was okay as long as I stayed out of trouble." The words burned coming out—leash words. She despised herself for saying them.
"Looking to escape?" His voice was low as he closed in, backing her against the door. The wood met her shoulders with a thud. "You won't, pet." A heavy hand clamped her jaw, jerking her face upward until she had no choice but to stare into his eyes.
"No." The word barely slipped out before his fingers pinched her jaw shut. Her back screamed where the door pressed her bruise, her arm pulsing hot with her heartbeat. There was no strength left, no space to move. So she went still, swallowing the instinct to thrash like a snared animal.
His tongue dragged slowly across his lips, eyes glittering with glee. "Might not be an issue. Someone's eager to buy you." Before his shove slammed her sideways into the wall. "Walk."
She stumbled forward. "I wasn't escaping, I wasn't—I know better than that. I was only trying to get a feel for my surroundings. Plus, the other humans? They're planning things, I heard them, like hurting people and not getting caught." Her words kept coming, too many, too fast, as if over-explaining could shield her from the predator at her back.
He pointed at the arena gate. "I call the shots here — they follow. Why are you so worried?"
She wanted to say she wasn't, but the words withered on her tongue. The moment the gate lifted, Cassie scanned the bright chamber in quick bursts. Kestrel stood off to the side, arms crossed like a wall, speaking to a shadow framed by the open glass panel.
"There are worse cages than mine," Lambert murmured. Cassie's eyes snagged on the person Kestrel was speaking to, and the sand seemed to drag at her feet.
He mirrored Kestrel's stance, arms crossed, but everything about him loomed larger. Their quiet talk stilled as the skull mask angled her way. Ghost. Cassie steadied herself, forcing her steps measured and even. Wariness was expected—he inspired it in everyone.
"Hello, Mouse." Ghost's voice was unchanged, smooth and low—the same one that stalked her in sleep, snarling around mouthfuls of her flesh. His eyes glinted with predatory hunger, and she knew he'd seen the recognition in hers.
"Hi," she managed, the word slipping out before her brain could stop it. Pure reflex. She even waggled a small wave, the kind of awkward add-on she hated herself for the second it happened.
Kestrel looked her over with calculating sharpness, then shifted his eyes past her to Lambert. "I don't like selling winners," he muttered, voice tight, stance just as tight. Cassie sympathized. Ghost loomed over him like a shadow.
Almost—almost—a comfort that Lambert matched Ghost in size. But he was right behind her, palm dropping heavy on her shoulder, pinning her in place. "Big money for a single win," he drawled, squeezing until her skin ached. "Odds are she won't repeat it."
Maybe Lambert wasn't comfort—just another cage with bigger hands.
It didn't add up. Why Ghost and not König? Cassie couldn't look away as he lifted a briefcase and let it fall onto the counter with a heavy clunk. "Break the bird," he warned, "and you'll only cut her price in half."
The lump in Cassie's throat refused to budge, unease rising until it pressed against her chest. She had to speak—had to—before her silence let them sell her fate like chattel.
Kestrel's gaze slid past her, frown deepening. "She can still make us more before the loss comes." The words weren't about her—they were about profit.
"That's a gamble, not a guarantee," Lambert said with a scoff.
If Kestrel couldn't hold him, Lambert would sell her off—and Ghost was waiting, his eyes shining with vile delight. Cassie's heart lurched. "No!" The word tore out before she could stop it.
A silence spun tight between them, sticky and suffocating. Lambert's fingers burrowed into her shoulder until her head tilted toward him, pain creeping across her expression like venom through a vein.
"I'll win more than two fights," Cassie blurted, breathless, her gaze locking on Kestrel as pain ratcheted higher with every word. She knew she wasn't supposed to speak, knew she was breaking the rules, but going with Ghost meant death. Kestrel arched a brow at her, amused.
His eyes narrowed. "You heard the kid. She'd sooner die swinging than be bought. Admirable, maybe… but admiration won't keep the coffers full."
Lambert's crushing hold stilled, though the pressure hadn't lessened, pinning her in place. Over her head, a wordless exchange passed between the three men—glances, slight movements, the kind of silent conversation that left her caught in the middle.
Ghost broke the silence first, voice low and edged. "Well?" His stare pinned them, eyes narrowed to slits.
Her body trembled, heart pounding like a trapped rabbit's. If Lambert agreed, she'd have to bolt—but Ghost's werewolf bulk filled the doorway, a predator already blocking her only exit. Her eyes flicked past him, frantic for some thread of escape.
"Deal." The word rolled off Lambert's tongue, his grip shifting from brutal to firm—a reminder that she wasn't free, only claimed.
Cassie went rigid, caught off guard, prey paralyzed in the open. Ghost's expression shifted—predatory satisfaction flickering beneath the mask.