Camilla lay on the cot, shivering. She never realized Blue Moon had a prison. The cells were clean, though sparse. Hers only contained the cot firmly attached to the wall and an Asian-style toilet beside a sink also firmly attached to the silver-lined wall. They left her in the minimum security wing where the interior wall was only bars, allowing her to see down the hall and the empty cells across from her own.
The pack warrior hadn’t even asked her name before, tossing her into the cell without a second thought. Securing the door, he left her without a word or blanket and her dress was still somewhere on the alpha’s floor. The silver bars, as well as the silver rebar in the walls, prevented her from contacting William, so she was forced to stay put through the long, cold night.
Memory
