When Asran got to the prison his blood was practically boiling. He flashed his credentials, and swiped his pass at the check points. Making his way deep inside the prison to the special holding pen. It was like a drunk tank the man who’d verbally assaulted Ayrie was there. Looking at Asran with a smug look of amusement. “So, that tasty doll was your piece of meat? Man wait till it gets to the others. We are gonna have so much fun with her. I can’t waste to taste her flesh when I get out,” he said laughing. Only to hear the door be torn off the hinges cutting his laugh short. He looked at the mayor fear replacing the mug expression quickly. “No, no, I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t know she was yours. I didn’t know please,” he begged. 

Asran walked out of the prison wiping blood off his face, and hands with a moist towel. “How was it,” one of the guards asked chuckling. “Disgusting, but filling,” he said with a scowl. The guard nodded as he regained his stony stance. 

Asran made his way to the one place he had a feeling Ayrie would have gone. He waited outside of the training room. He didn’t notice he had blood on his shirt.