BIANCA'S POV
When the ship stopped moving, my captors got out and grabbed me, suspending me in the air as they dragged me in chains past a brick wall, inside a confined space.
"Move, bitch!" The men yelled at me as they bundled me in chains.
I was too weak to fight back; tears ran down my cheeks as I started to imagine what awaited me. I'd have to spend the rest of my life behind bars and possibly become a sex slave. It wasn't the type of life I would wish for, but it was suddenly happening right before my eyes.
My throat felt dry, and my eyes moistened as my breath turned to gasps of disbelief. I suddenly realized that I was being put in a prison: a dark dungeon, apparently meant for the most hardened criminals. I was being forced into the edifice.
The men kept me in a cell with a bunk by the wall. There was one more door which held a latrine. No windows illuminated the spot, and the lights weren't as bright here.
I put my hands on the bars; obviously, they were firm and rigid even with my shifter strength. The entryway was locked, and I had nothing convenient to pry it open. I cursed myself for being too slow. I was being locked out of reality and just had to keep thinking about my escape.
I could barely breathe as my body was in pain from the unnatural position I'd forced myself into.
My firearm was in my knapsack; another mistake of mine. The sack had been left behind when they had caught me. I would presumably never recover it. So much for keeping a photograph of my family and companion with me.
Sighing, I plunked down on the bed. It was hard and uncomfortable, yet until I sorted out how to leave, this cell would be my home. At least I had a rooftop over my head. I attempted to encourage myself, but it wasn't at all effective. I concealed my face in my palms.
I wondered why such horrible things had to happen to me consistently? Was it that the Moon Goddess couldn't stand me? Was it my destiny to rot in jail despite the fact that I had done nothing wrong? Or was I just this unfortunate?
I laughed bleakly. Right now, whoever was responsible for my ongoing circumstance didn't matter. All that mattered was that it sucked.
Yet, I couldn't surrender. I hadn't surrendered back when I served as a ranger in my former pack before getting my dreadful scar. I hadn't surrendered when Jack rejected me.
How could I quit putting faith in myself now? There must be an exit from here. The main question was if it was much better than being stuck in a correctional facility?
My smartest option was to attempt to persuade their chief, Logan, to release me, yet how could I make him let me go? He was simply one more crook, similar to the ones who snatched me and put me in jail.
What's more, he was the person who had given the order for my capture. Logan didn't mind bending the rules to get what he needed.
But, why did he need me? My long periods of certainty and considering myself pretty and savvy were a distant memory. My scar had made me appalled, and I was not really in the right frame of mind.
My abilities wouldn't generally assist me with leaving. My capacity to fire weapons could help, but I had no weapon in here.
I wanted to know my next move. First, I needed to converse with Logan to know the reason why he was hell-bent on capturing me. He seemed to have a not-so-civil plan; I had to do something to overturn his crooked plans.
Two hours passed; by this time, I'd become weak and dizzy. A few minutes later, Logan walked into my cell. He flexed his bare shoulders with the name "El Paso" inked on his biceps, and he entered, beaming with a charming smile on his face.
"What's your name, young lady?" Logan asked me, giving me a practically kind-looking smile.
"Bianca," I answered.
Perhaps he could be kinder than the others?
"I know that we've never had any formal introduction. I'm Erick Logan, the head of Eastern Dartmoor Island."
As far as I knew, the island wasn't bound together under one ruler. Logan wanted me to accept that he ruled over the entire spot. That I was in his domain. That I had no place to run. It only signaled danger and a scary situation that I had to get away from.
I doubted that Logan was a decent man. Perhaps the benevolence was only a façade, a pleasantness intended to draw me in so I could do his bidding?
Had I not conversed with the mariner on the boat that had brought me here, I could have accepted that Logan was the sole head of the island. "It is a terrible place to live. I would advise you not to move there; however, it's absolutely impossible that I can persuade you to return with us."
I recalled the captain's words. I still had a spot to go if I could escape from Logan, should things turn south. I wouldn't surrender; that was the last thing on my mind. It was too early to surrender.
There was a chance that I could make it out of here safely and blissfully and find a place to stay for the meantime.
I had finally made it this far regardless of Jack's rejection and in spite of my Alpha banishing me. I would keep on running until I found where I could quit residing in a condition of dread and uncertainty.
Yet, what was it that Logan really wanted from me?