Chapter 3

He thinks he is here now for at least a month, and his hope is dwindling. He tried to hold onto a shred of hope, that his dad will keep looking for him, that Derek will keep looking, or Scott, Malia, Lydia, Isaac, Liam. Hell, he would even love to see Jackson, but he hadn't seen the beta since he left for Londen with Ethan again.

Until now, Stiles only has seen two men and one woman, always the same ones and always at other times in the day. His whole internal schedule is torn apart. He doesn't know when it's day or night. He just sleeps when he feels like it. Turning into his wolf to get at least a little comfortable.

He finally figured out how to turn back to human and into his wolf willingly after two weeks of more electrical shocks. He knew he needed an anchor, to at least keep his mind human and not turn feral. After a couple of hours of thinking, he finally settled on his dad. Knowing that the man will always have his back. Tears prick in his eyes when he thinks about the man, but he needs this anchor because he knows that he is getting back to him. Whatever it will take.

He still feels like he is getting feral. Especially when the woman comes in. She's a witch and has set her eyes on Stiles. He shivers every time she enters.

They use tasers on him to suppress his wolf before the woman renders his body useless. She puts some kind of spell on him, and with that, she controls his body. It's demeaning and infuriating.

As soon as she enters, she smirks, her blood-red lips pulled back in a wide grin. When she uses the spell, he can only lie on the floor of his cell. He can't move a muscle, only snarl and growl. He can feel everything that is done to him.

The wolfsbane knife that slices his skin open every other day with the hands of the woman, she gives off a spicy scent, and Stiles thinks that it's the smell of arousal. He always starts to gag as soon as he smells it. The woman never talks, only laughs when he grunts from the pain. The first couple of times, he screamed, but it seemed she was getting off on it, and he kept it in now. Not wanting to give her any twisted fantasies.

She is evil and giving off Kate Argent vibes like no one else.

He doesn't talk much anymore—just grunts at his captors. He scowls and is channeling his inner Derek most days. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction of breaking him. He knows he needs a pack, he wants to bite new people, but he doesn't feel the pull towards his captors. Probably knowing they wouldn't be good beta's.

He can hear yelling through the walls and knows he isn't the only one being kept there. Where ever there is. He only knows it's in the UK. But he doesn't have any windows. The only light he gets is from a lonely lightbulb on the ceiling.

He did get other clothes, just a simple shirt, and sweats, but he isn't naked anymore. He gets food regularly, he has a toilet, and even a sink to clean himself with. But he still doesn't know what they want with him. And that's a scary thought. Not even when the woman is slicing into his body and leaving him bloody does she speak. The wounds are mostly healed within two days, and then she returns to go at it again. It's torture, but he pushes through it. That they don't ask anything is what works him up the most. He roars, growls, howls when the witch is slicing in him, but he doesn't talk as long as they don't talk. He only lets them see anger, never pain.

He can hear the captors coming to his door and hears a third set of feet. Not the woman, but a stranger. He is up and against the door of his cell before the door opens. Snarling at the intrusion. Whenever Scott did this when new people came to the door, Stiles would make so many puppy jokes, but he gets it now. New smells, a new heartbeat, uncertainty. Stiles doesn't like it.

The door opens, and the two regular men step in before stepping to the side to let the third one in.

Stiles can smell it now. This one is afraid. Not afraid of the captors, but of him, because he is snarling and growling and almost roaring at the newcomer.

The newcomer who smells sickly, afraid, scared out of his wits, but Stiles can feel a certain determination too.

''What do you want?'' Stiles growls out.

''You need to bite him.'' One of the regulars said while indicating his head to the scared human.

Stiles recoils. He doesn't want to bite the human. It doesn't feel right.

''No.'' He answers.

''No?'' The scared man says with confusion.

''Do you want to hear it in Spanish? Noh!''

''Why not?'' The stranger now seems offended.

''It doesn't feel right,'' Stiles says simply, and he shrugs.

Anger seems to seep into the stranger's scent, and his head is turning red. Arrogance is seeping off the stranger, and Stiles feels like the idiot is about to explode. He rolls his eyes and waits for the human to explode.

''It doesn't feel right? It doesn't feel right! I don't give a bloody hell about if it feels right or not. I'm paying these idiots for your bite. I'm going to die without it.'' The man seethes. Stiles just raises his eyebrow. If he still has eyebrows in his beta form, he still hasn't seen himself.

''And what if you die from the bite?'' Stiles counters calmly, feeling his shift pull back, but his eyes keep glowing red. He does this on purpose, letting them see how much control he has. He maybe is on the edge of getting feral, but he is still in control. They haven't broken him. He smirks at his captors, who smell like disappointment at his display of control.

The man seems to think about it before deciding.

''I don't care. I'm going to die slowly or quickly. I'm rather choosing the quick one.''

Stiles sighs he knows the turn is painful for the ones that don't survive it.

''I'm still not doing it.''

His captors seem to have heard enough, and Stiles sees too late that they have a gun with them. He tries to move away but is shot with a dart. He feels his body go numb, and he slumps against the bars of his cell. Panting heavily, he looks around him. The cell door opens, and he feels his fangs coming out.

Snarling, he tries to move, but his body seems to be paralyzed. This time without help from the woman, but with regular drugs. The effects will wear off soon, but he thinks that that's the point.

One of the captors forces his jaw open, and he feels a wrist in between his teeth. The man that had hold of his jaw shuts his jaw with a snap, and Stiles bites down in the wrist. He hears a yelp from pain from the stranger.

He feels violated and feels a pang of sympathy when Derek was forced by Scott to do this to Gerard.

When his jaw is released, the man pulls back his wrist, cradling it against his body. Tears are pooling in his eyes, and Stiles wants to roll his eyes.

''Well, I hope you don't die.'' Stiles snarls when the cell door is closed again.

The man looks at Stiles for a moment, and Stiles sees black blood trickling down the man's nose. His hope is sinking, and he knows that the man will not survive this. He did try to warn the asshole.