Jasmin's POV
The elevator doors parted with a mechanical hiss, and before I could draw another breath, iron fingers clamped around my wrist like a shackle.
His grip burned against my skin. There would be no breaking free.
"Come along, beautiful," he sneered, that twisted smile spreading across his scarred face as he hauled me into a darkness that reeked of decay, cheap alcohol, and corrupted flesh.
The underground brothel stretched before us like a vision from hell.
Far worse than anything the Thornwick floors above could have prepared me for.
"Walker!" Voices called out from the shadows, wolves with yellowed grins and bloodshot eyes, drunk on power and perversion.
So his name was Walker.
