"No—get away from me!" Ryley shrieked, thrashing with every ounce of energy left in his body.
His wrists screamed under the rope's tension, but he didn't stop struggling. "I'm not who you think I am! You've got the wrong person!"
They grabbed at his clothes. The seams tore. Panic surged in Ryley's throat like acid.
"Stop it! STOP! You dumbfucks—do you even know who I am?! I have NOTHING to do with Silas Cobalt!"
The captor crouched low to Ryley's level, his expression dripping with malice.
"Don't lie. We know exactly who you are…"
Then he barked out a sharp command in German.
"Los! Lass die beiden los. Lass uns sehen, wie lange sie durchhalten."
[Release them. Let's see how long they last]
Two men were shoved forward—Oliver and the other unknown captive—both drenched in sweat, their bodies trembling violently under the influence of a potent Alpha aphrodisiac.
The stench of rut clung to the air like poison.
