Vincent pov
As I walk down the long hallway and near the cell of the woman we both feared and despised for years, I can't help but hate the gift of heightened senses.
The stench of rotting blood and flesh assaults my nostrils like a wave of bad memories. I notice the metal bar of her cell doors and pause to take a deep breath. She's there, probably waiting for me to come. Or begging her own Gods to keep my kind away from her. I wouldn't be surprised, especially after all those things I did to her.
My legs carry me to her. My instincts beg me to run to her, to hold her, to tell her that all will be well. But I can't; I'd be damned if I'd ever give in and let her out of that cell. If I gave in to my heart's desire, my family, friends, and pack would fall faster than I could react. One day, the Alliance will come after her.