Page 4 of Snatched Up By the Cartel

I narrowed my eyes, studying him. "You sure about that?" I prodded, knowing full well he was lying. Sometimes, people forgot about their nightmares or dreams as soon as they woke up, but in his case, I didn't think that happened.

I could sense the truth in the way his scent changed, the way his eyes flickered with a mix of emotions: fear, shame, and something else I couldn't quite pinpoint. Maybe it was anxiety.

Instead of answering, Rylan turned away, pulling the blanket up to his chin as if it could shield him from the world, or as if it could make me disappear. I was still right here, though.

I saw his shoulders shake, and I realized he was silently crying, his body racked with quiet sobs. Damn, the kid was a mess. He was going through a lot, but weren't we all? He wasn't as special as he thought he was.

I huffed again and turned away, returning to my bed. "Forget it," I muttered. "Go back to sleep." I didn't have the energy or the inclination to deal with his tears. Prison was no place for softness, and I had my own demons to battle.

My plate was full. I couldn't and didn't want to worry about what other people were feeling. Whatever was tormenting him, he could deal with it by himself.

I lay back down, my back to Rylan, and pulled my own blanket up. I didn't even want to remember he was my cellmate. Maybe this was also a nightmare and, tomorrow morning, I was going to wake up with him nowhere in sight.

The moonlight still cast long shadows on the wall, and I found myself staring at them, my mind wandering to my own past, to the nightmares that haunted me. I pushed the thoughts away; there was no room for weakness, not here, not now.

To be honest, there was never any space for weakness. The moment I showed any sort of fragility was the moment I knew I would die.

The silence stretched between us, the only sound being Rylan's quiet sniffles as he tried to stifle his tears. What a pathetic little cunt he was. He couldn't even cry without making noises.

I closed my eyes, willing sleep to take me back, to offer me a temporary escape from this hell. Still, it wasn't going to be easy. Sometimes, sleeping was difficult.

In the darkness, my mind wandered despite my efforts to keep it at bay. I thought of my own arrival at Blackrock, the fear and anger that had consumed me. I'd been a young wolf then, full of fire and ready to take on the world. I had already spent too much time here. When would I get out? I didn't know.

This place had a way of breaking you, of stripping away your dignity and your sense of self. Not that I had any, to be honest. When I came here, I was already on the path to becoming the person I was.

A soft sniffle pulled me from my thoughts, and I glanced over my shoulder at Rylan. He lay curled up, his back to me, his body still shaking with the aftermath of his tears. I felt a pang of something in my chest, an unfamiliar sensation that I quickly dismissed.

It couldn't be anything. Maybe, before all this, I could feel pity for other people, but after realizing it didn't help me and it actually only jeopardized me, I got rid of it.

With a grunt, I rolled over, turning my back to him once more. "Get some sleep, kid," I grunted. "Tomorrow's another day in this hellhole."

And I wasn't going to say that again. He better do it as, otherwise, he would hate even more how weak he was.

The silence that followed was heavy. He finally stopped crying so much. The truth was, I couldn't sleep as long as he was making so much noise.

I knew Rylan was still awake, his mind likely racing with thoughts of his own. But we both knew better than to speak of such things. In a place like Blackrock, you kept your head down, your secrets close, and your emotions in check.

If he didn't know that yet, he soon would.

Eventually, the steady rhythm of Rylan's breathing told me he had fallen back asleep. I chuckled slightly. Despite being so hurt, he managed to fall asleep. In the meantime, here I was, still mostly awake.

I lay there, listening to the sound, my eyes fixed on the shadows dancing across the walls. It had rained recently, leaving puddles on the ground behind the walls. That was the reason why there were so many dancing shadows tonight.

Tomorrow was another day, another battle to be fought. But for now, in the quiet of the night, I was just trying to sleep. Otherwise, tomorrow morning, if I was sleep-deprived, I wouldn't function well at all.

As I drifted off, my mind lingered on Rylan's fragile form, his silent tears a stark contrast to the harsh world we inhabited.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, part of me wanted to protect him, even though it didn't make sense. Why would I protect a Nightfang, anyway?

Chapter 3

Rylan

The harsh clang of the cell door startled me from my daze, the sound reverberating through the confines of our small space. I was kind of hoping I was going to find out this wasn't happening, but it was. No denying it. It was happening for real.

I looked up, my heart sinking as I realized it was time for the daily shower ritual. Mateo had warned me about this, the dreaded moment when we were herded like cattle to the communal bathrooms, forced to strip down and endure the mocking gazes of our fellow prisoners.

I thought that everything here was already humiliating enough, but there was this. And, to make everything even worse, it felt like it was only the tip of the iceberg.

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