Clark's POV:
The air was thick now, heavy with the smell of wolves and sweat and something darker, like blood and fear soaked into the walls. I could hear faint music from inside the club, a low, thrumming beat that felt like a predator's heartbeat. Underneath it, muffled screams, whimpers, laughter. Human laughter? No. It was too broken. Too hollow.
The doors opened wider, and for a moment I caught a glimpse inside.
Chained humans. Some on their knees, others bound against walls. Leashes in every color, glowing faintly as if coded with meaning. Wolves lounged in luxury around them, drinking, laughing, commanding. And the humans... they obeyed. Some with blank eyes. Others trembling, weeping silently.
The air reeked of sex, power, and despair.
My stomach turned so violently I nearly doubled over. This wasn't a club. This was hell disguised in velvet and shadows. A nightmare where humans weren't people—they were toys.
And now... I was next.
