Chapter 11
Every inch of me aches. It’s as if I’ve taken a plunge from the rooftop.
“You’re awake,” Callum says, his voice soft with guilt.
“Where am I?” I ask, glancing around the unfamiliar room. I’ve never been in this part of the pack’s territory before.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns and walks out, leaving me alone in this strange place.
I scan the room and head straight for the door. It doesn’t budge. I yank at the handle a few times, desperate to get out.
Still no luck.
“Ughhh! Why? Why does nothing ever go right for me?!” I cry, my voice breaking. “I just want to leave. I just want to be free. Is that really too much to ask?”
I slump into a corner of the room. The air in here smells awful.
Time drags on until the door finally bursts open, revealing the fuming Theron with my bag in hand.
I rush toward the exit.
“What gives you the right to trap me here? Let me out!” I shout, stepping past him.
He grabs my arm and yanks me back with force.
“Care to explain this?” His voice is harsh and demanding.
I glare at him, refusing to back down.
“You don’t get to order me around,” I snap. His grip tightens painfully. “Theron, you’re hurting me,” I protest, trying to wrench my arm free.
He stays silent, eyes fixed on my neck. With a rough hand, he grabs my face, forcibly turning my head to reveal the fading mark on my skin.
“I know you haven’t found another mate,” he growls. I stare at him, stunned by how unhinged he seems. “You’ve been dabbling in magic, haven’t you? I could feel it the other day.”
Furious, I shove him away and jump to my feet after landing hard on the floor.
“You’re insane. I don’t know anything about magic–not since…” I pause, taking a shaky breath.
“Then tell me how it’s possible. Why is your mark disappearing? Magic is the only explanation.”
My thoughts drift to the strange presence I often sense when the pain becomes overwhelming. But I don’t say a word. He wouldn’t understand me anyway–so what’s the point?
“Perhaps the moon goddess has finally realized that we were a mistake. That I was meant for something better than this… and she’s decided to put an end to it,” I say, my voice laced with venom.
I catch the flicker in his eyes just before his hand strikes me–or at least I think it does. Pain blooms on the side of my face, and when I reach up to touch it, a wet sensation greets my fingers. I pull my hand away, trembling at what I feel.
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My skin turns pale as I stare at my fingers, now stained with bright red. He’s clawed me. I lift my gaze to him, silently pleading to see regret in his eyes, to believe it was an accident. But there is nothing–no guilt, no remorse.
“You actually…” His hand reaches for me again, not gently or with affection, but aggressively, as if he’s ready to strike once more.
“You’ve really done it. Your body isn’t reacting to me anymore. You would’ve healed by now. You used magic, didn’t you? To shut off your feelings.”
It’s something many rejected mates resort to, but it stings that he believes I’d be one of them.
“Let me go, Theron. Or-”
“Or what?” he interrupts, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he steps closer, invading my space.
Oddly, I feel no fear. I can’t say why, but there’s simply none.
“You’ve grown a backbone,” he says, dragging his fingers across my injury. It sears at his touch, and I bite down on my lip to hold back a cry. “Shame you’re still a pathetic, unshifted wolf.” I feel my wolf stir inside me, but there’s nothing it can do.
Frustration and fury burn within me.
“If you’re so eager to challenge me,” he says with a smirk, “then you can stay down here–locked in this cellar. No food. No water. Let’s see how long you last.”
He starts to leave, then pauses at the door, casting a smug glance over his shoulder. “And Aurelia? Don’t think your spells are hidden well. Whatever food you’ve stashed, I suggest you hold it close.”
What a bastard. He’s taken everything. I dash over to my bag, rummaging through it frantically for the emergency snacks I’d packed. Nothing. Not a single item remains.
“Screw you!” I slam my fists against the door, hitting it with such force that my wrist begins to bleed. “I hate your guts! You’re a pathetic excuse for a man, a power–hungry coward! I hope you rot!” I know he’s long gone, out of earshot, but I keep screaming anyway.
Minutes pass, and the reality sinks in. I slump into the corner of the room, glancing around at the space that offers little comfort. Just four walls, a small sink, and a bed shoved to one side.
This is where my boyfriend–the man I once loved–has left me.
Not long after, Joyce arrives. The door doesn’t fully swing open for her–just a narrow gap appears. It’s only wide enough for me to catch a glimpse of the speaker’s face, from their forehead down to just under their nose.
“Aurelia!” she exclaims, looking frantic, trying to squeeze herself through the slim opening.
“Joy!” Despite everything, I feel a flicker of relief at her presence.
“Are you alright?”
I respond with a shake of my head. “What about Ma’am Nola? Has she heard that I’m leaving? Please, tell her I’m down here, that-” but Joy interrupts with a shake of her own head.
“I’m so sorry, Ria. I truly didn’t expect things to turn out like this. If I had… I swear I didn’t know. I’m
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sorry,” she repeats her apology again and again.
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“It isn’t your fault…” I begin, wanting to ask her to check on Ma’am Nola again, but she speaks before I
can finish.
“I had no idea Theron would react like that. I assumed he’d… I don’t know… be more understanding,” she says, brushing tears from her face and avoiding my gaze.
“Joy, I don’t get it–why do you think this is your fault?” She’s never been able to keep things in when guilt eats at her. Getting her to talk isn’t hard.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters again, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Ma’am Nola had asked me to fetch a few ingredients to her room, and that’s when I found the note you left. I didn’t know what to do–l panicked. I ran straight to Callum. He was with Theron, but I didn’t think that would matter. I’m really, really sorry.”
I step back slightly from the door. “I swear, Aurelia, if I’d known he’d react like this, I wouldn’t have said anything. I just panicked. I thought you’d really go through with it and leave. And you’re not in a good condition right now, not since the…” Her voice trails off. Silence follows.
“You liar,” I say at last, staring at her in shock. “You knew exactly how he’d respond. You’re one of the few who understands what really goes on between us. Who he truly is. You know!” My voice rises, and I take a deep breath to calm myself.
My thoughts are spinning. She’s destroyed everything I planned. She’s upended my whole life. And worst of all, Ma’am Nola must be worried sick, searching for me while I’m trapped down here in the
cellar.
I stop listening to her pleas. Eventually, she gives up and leaves. The quiet that follows is surprisingly
welcome.
“Well, that was dramatic, huh?”
I glance around, trying to locate the voice. Then I spot the speaker–it’s someone in the next cell over,
or so I assume.
“Hey, I’m Harper,” she says.
