Chapter 32. Interrogation

Avery’s POV

The cold stone floor beneath me offered little comfort, and every movement sent sharp, aching jolts through my weakened body.

My wrists throbbed where the ropes had rubbed them raw, and bruises bloomed across my arms and legs from the earlier blows. They had interrogated me for what felt like hours, their relentless questions pounding in my ears.

“Where are they?”

“What is your Alpha planning?”

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I had no answers for them, but that didn’t stop them from demanding them anyway. Each time I shook my head or muttered, “I don’t know,” their patience wore thinner. And when their patience wore out, I bore the brunt of their frustration.

A particularly cruel interrogator; a man with a scar running down his cheek, stood in front of me now, his fists clenched as though he were moments away from striking me again. His dark eyes burned with a hatred that made me shudder.

“You expect us