Free Primal Law by J.D. Tyler Page A

either. Resigned to finding her way alone, she started down the hallway. At the T-shaped intersection, she hesitated. Had they come from the right or left last night? Taking a chance, she went right.
    It was the wrong direction, of course. She made that discovery when she ended up taking a couple of turns and going through a set of double doors to find herself in what appeared to be a waiting room. There were cushioned vinyl chairs and a desk with no receptionist. Probably at breakfast with everyone else, since it wasn’t like this was a public facility where they’d be expecting someone. Backtracking, she made the opposite turns that would lead back to the hallway where her room was located. Or so she thought.
    “Crap, where the heck am I?”
    A minute later, she found herself in another corridor, this one not as brightly lit as the others. Doors lined each side of the hall, each one made of dark, heavy metal with a single window held in place by heavy rivets. Moving close, she inspected the first one, noting the Plexiglas was two or three layers thick.
    Beyond the window was a cell. There was nothing else the space could be, furnished with little but a bed, a sink, and a toilet.
    “What is this place?” she wondered aloud. In answer, a low, menacing growl echoed down the tunnel, causing her to jump. Hand on her galloping chest, she inched forward, drawn to the source despite common sense shouting at her to run.
    As she padded down the right-hand side, she discovered the culprit in the second cell. She drew in a breath to see a black wolf, one almost as big as Jax, pacing the width of the space—as much as the heavy chain on the end of the metal collar would allow. Back and forth, like an animal at the zoo, and she had the impression he was slowly going out of his mind.
    Suddenly he stopped, whirled, and raised his head, staring straight at her through the little window. His eyes glittered, though what color they were she couldn’t tell. She saw only impotent rage a second before he launched himself at the door, lips pulled back in a feral snarl, fangs white as snow against his dark fur.
    She jumped back in reflex but the chain held, and the wolf was jerked off his feet by his own speed and force. He fell, rolled to his stomach, and coughed. Then he leaped up and ran again, to the same result. Tears pricked her eyes and she moved on, out of sight. Poor thing. If he couldn’t see her, he’d eventually stop. She hoped.
    The next cell, not surprisingly, was empty. Feral creatures probably shouldn’t be kept side by side, even though they were surrounded by some sort of thick metal for the walls, floor, and ceiling.
    In the fourth cell, she saw something really massive curled on the bed, so heavy the mattress sagged under its weight. Squinting, she saw that it was coiled, its sleek head resting on a pillow, seemingly sound asleep. Now, why on earth would they have jailed a snake? Even if it was as big as a frigging Volkswagen. Perplexed, she moved on, thankful the growling from inmate number one had ceased.
    Cell number six, however, provided the secondbiggest shock since her life had gone headfirst down the rabbit hole. She blinked to be sure of what she was seeing. A humanoid creature sat on his bed. Humanoid because . . .
    Jesus, he had wings. Beautiful, deep blue wings matching waist-length hair that was no doubt glorious when the tresses were clean. Though the wings were drawn up against his back, the longest feathers trailed like silk across the bare mattress behind him. He was naked and very male, with skin that gleamed like snow. He was no doubt a fine specimen when in full health, but his prominent ribs and collarbones testified to the lack of proper nourishment.
    The winged man was rocking, arms wrapped around his middle, staring at the opposite wall at nothing. Almond-shaped eyes fringed with dark lashes were drowning in despair and tears coursed down lean cheeks. Like the wolf, he wore a metal collar but