My head was killing me. Fuck. I hadn't planned on drinking so much last night. It was like the beat of the music last night had crawled into my head and set up shop on full blast. This definitely wasn't a coke or ecstasy hangover, which left only alcohol. Unless someone slipped me something extra.

Wait...

My memories were fragmented, coming back to me like the shattered image of a mirror. The same scene kept repeating itself, starting and stopping at different points. Limp legs. A rolled up hundred dollar bill. A syringe. A sting in my neck.

I lifted my hand to feel where they had stabbed me, but the simple raise of my arm was like a conductor's signal to the band in my brain to take it to the max, sending pain clattering against every inch of my skull. Fucking damnit.

I blessed the cold hard floor beneath me. It was the only thing keeping my stomach from completely rebelling on me.

When the throbbing subsided, I opened my eyes cautiously. The first thing I saw was bars. Was I in jail? Again?

No, that didn't make any sense. Cops wouldn't stick me with a needle that knocked me out. Besides, the bars were too thin. I sat up slowly, closing my eyes in concentration until I was able to collapse against the wall behind me, which was more bars.

Now I could really see my situation, and it wasn't good.

I was in a cage, like an extra large dog cage. Stronger than those popup ones you saw at the pet store. This was serious shit. Meant for keeping Kujo under wraps.

I reached to grab the bars behind me and hissed as my skin touched the metal. It was wrapped in silver, and burned my skin with a fierce cold. I ran a finger on the roof of the cage above me. It contained silver. Every bar I could reach contained silver. The only surface that didn't was the floor under me, and there was no way I was digging through that any time soon, even with shifter claws.

As I shifted to a more comfortable position, I noticed the two dog bowls they'd set out for me. One was water. This seriously was a dog cage. A dog cage specifically designed for a shifter. For me.

I couldn't tell what was in the other bowl. Something lumpy, but not dog food, thankfully.

Something banged and I jumped, the adrenaline overriding the renewed pain in my head. I listened carefully, waiting for another sign that I wasn't alone. Maybe a faint scuffling, and then... nothing.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Whoever is out there! This is some fucked up shit. I don’t know if this is some kind of shitty joke or what, but my father is not going to be happy.”

I listened intently, but after a few minutes with no more sounds, I eyed the bowls again. My mouth was dry, my tongue sticking to my teeth. I leaned over to the bowls, moving slowly. I didn't want to start up the drum line in my head again.

The bowl of food was scrambled eggs. I picked up a lump with my fingers. It was cold and rubbery. I gave it a sniff, then dropped it back in the bowl.

It hadn't stung my fingers, so at least it wasn't laced with silver. Though if they'd wanted to kill me, they could have done so easily already. They'd had me unconscious. There would have been no need to wait. That didn't mean they hadn't doped the water and food up with something else to keep me sedated.

I kicked the bowl in frustration. It clanged against the cage, and the eggs scattered across the wood floor outside of my prison. Where the fuck was I? Some fucking horror movie set? They were really trying to mess with my head, weren’t they?

What the fuck was going on here? I kept thinking about "they". Who were they?

“Can I get some decent food, at least? Hey! Hey! Is anyone out there?”

Still nothing. After a moment of internal debate, I tried to lift the bowl of water, but only succeeded in sloshing some on the bottom of the cage. My arms were too shaky. I needed the water if my head was going to clear up at all, though.

It was too much effort to sit back up, so I collapsed to the floor, taking a few deep breaths before loosening the buttons of my jeans and shirt. My wolf's nose would be better able to detect if the water was tainted. It felt demeaning to drink out of the bowl like a dog, but no one was watching.

I left my clothes on as I shifted, however. It was too much effort to remove them. And fuck the assholes who put me here. If they wanted a show, they weren't getting it.

The headache faded as my wolf took over, though I flopped awkwardly to the side. Shifting while laying on your back is not recommended.

I rolled to my stomach and squirmed out of my clothes, then immediately sniffed the water. It smelled clean. I took a tentative drink, and when it tasted fine, lapped it up as if I were a desert in a rainstorm.

I'd nearly finished the bowls when my hackles raised instinctively. My head jerked up and my ears twitched. A tiny scratch jerked my head around and I found myself staring into the yellow eyes of a black panther.

I'd been taught all my life about the fight or flight instinct, but that wasn't what I felt now. I froze. I didn't see my life flash before my eyes or any of that bullshit. All I knew was that a predator was staring me in the eyes, and if I wanted to live, my only chance was to stay still.

The big yellow eyes blinked, seeming to glow in the dim light. Then the panther bowed his head, his shoulders swelled, and he reared back onto his hind feet as he shifted into a man.

The man was sleek, like his animal form, and muscular. Not beefy, but each muscle was well defined, and he looked just as dangerous in human form as in animal form.

The naked man approached the cage and knelt beside it. I tensed, backing up against the far side of the cage instinctively.

"You're not such a bad mutt, are ya?" he said with a smirk. "Just another puffed up rich boy who shits his pants at the first sign of real danger. I bet you he's Daddy's little boy. Likes to swagger, pretends to be bad... Then runs home to Daddy. I bet even he's roughed you up a bit, hasn't he, sweet thing? Maybe even made some use out of you?" He made an obscene gesture with his hand and tongue.

I lunged toward him, slamming into the bars of the cage, the silver burning the sensitive skin of my nose and making me yelp.

"Quit fucking around, Joey." An older man walked into the room carrying a tablet, flicking on a series of fluorescent lights above us. I squeezed my eyes closed, the sudden contraction of my pupils hurting more in wolf form than it would in human.

I heard Joey stand and sauntered toward the other man. When I blinked my eyes open, I saw them both standing at a cheap plastic card table. Joey leaned against the table, and I hoped it would break under his weight and send him crashing to his ass.

"If Daddy doesn't cough up the dough, I want the pleasure of breaking him in, Sal."

Sal grunted. "He eat or drink anything?"

"Finished the water like he was a fucking camel."

"Better give him some more."

"I dunno. He might try to bite my hand off if I open up that cage." Joey looked as if he relished the idea. His anticipation sent chills down my spine.

"Use the hose, you dumb ass." Sal didn't even look up from his tablet. "We don't wanna rough him up until we need to. If Papa Senator comes through with the money, he'll get his precious brat back in one piece. If he doesn't..."

Joey cracked his knuckles. "If he doesn't we get to have some fun."

Sal finally glanced up at me. "He'll come through."

A sudden sense of calm dread flooded through me, and I shifted into human form so I could speak. "If you kidnapped me thinking my dad would care, you're out of luck. He doesn't give a shit about me."

Part of my brain was screaming, "Shut up, shut up! As long as they think you're useful, they won't kill you!"

Another part of my brain was just angry. Angry at these assholes. Angry at my dad. Angry at myself for being stupid enough to get into this mess.

"He doesn't have to give a shit about you," Sal said. "He gives at least two shits about his reputation. Senator Patrick Tierney. Divorced. One son. Shining star of the conservative party. Suspected to make a presidential bid this next election cycle. If nothing brings him down, that is."

"And you think kidnapping me is going to do that? He'll just use it as a way to garner more sympathy. You're giving him a golden stairway to the presidency."

Sal set the tablet down and pulled a phone from his pocket. "I don't care whether your dad is the next president or the next community garbage collector. All I care about is cash. And he's going to give it to me."

I didn't dare lean back against the bars with my bare skin, so I leaned forward. "You're still not getting it. He. Won't. Care."

Sal squatted next to my cage like Joey had. "No, you're the one who isn't getting it. Everything I need is right here." He dangled the phone in front of me.

It was my phone.

Sal turned it around and tapped the screen a few times, then flipped it back to me. It was the photo of me snorting coke off that omega's ass. Of me pressed between two nearly naked alphas, dancing. My head thrown back and my eyes glinting wide and yellow. He swiped over once more, and it was of me in the cage. Sal tapped the screen, and the video started playing. I looked right into the camera, there was no mistaking it was me. And then I lay back, and after a moment, I shifted.

"Your dad may not care about you, but he will care about me posting these on your social media if he doesn't pay up. How well do you think his political career would go if the American public found out he was a dirty, dirty shifter?"

"They'd crucify him," I whispered. All my life, he'd drilled into me the importance of staying hidden. Of passing as human. There was nothing more important in life than pretending we weren't who we are. And this man before me was threatening to tear it all down. I was terrified. I was exhilarated.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "Why keep me around if all you need is my phone?"

"Your dad might not care about you, but he does care about his image. And the feds will take slightly more issue if we leave a mess."

"But I've seen your faces. What's to stop me from telling them all about what you look like?"

Shut up, shut up, Preston! Do you want them to kill you?

Sal's smile was empty, like a black hole. "Tell them whatever you want, pretty boy. We don't live like you pretenders. It's hard for a true shifter to be found when they don't want to." He stood up. "That is, if your father holds up his end of the deal. If not... you won't be telling anyone anything."

He slid the phone back in his pocket and signaled to Joey, who picked up the tablet and followed him. The lights shut off behind them with a clank, leaving me alone in the gray, forgetting to fill my water. The adrenaline faded, leaving me cold. I shifted back into my wolf form and curled into a ball.

I was dead meat. No matter what kind of game these guys thought they had going, my dad hated losing. There was no way he'd give in.