“Do you know something, dear?” Ava inquires, circling around me, her footsteps resounding off the walls.

“No,” I reply, desperately hoping my voice doesn’t betray the fear that consumed me, anticipating whatever cruel intentions she had in store.

“Nick has asked me to force your mind to tell me where your family might be,” She whispers behind me, sending a cold shiver down my spine. I whip my head around to face her, but she vanishes when I turn. The lights in the room go off, and I'm plunged into utter darkness. My heart pounds as I catch her scent and feel her breath on me, intensifying the dread within me as I remain unable to see her in the pitch-black room.

"Isn't that forbidden magic?" I ask, spinning around the room as I try to find her. I finally realize why I was treated and what drug might have been given to me. They wanted to ensure I didn't die while she controlled my mind. Forbidden magic! It's so strong it could shatter someone's mind if they are not physically and mentally strong.

"It is, my dear," she says, placing a cold finger on my shoulder, causing me to jump in fright. I try to steady my heartbeat as her long nail remains on my shoulder. The best way to throw off your enemy is to show no fear. I chat in my head but find it hard to do with the situation right now.

"Then don't do it," I plead, even though I know it's futile. My heart leaps out of my chest as a sinister laughter reverberates off the walls. The cold touch of her finger is replaced by haunting darkness and laughter.

"I can see your mother has told you nothing about me. Why don't I introduce myself then?" she says, conjuring a ball of fire that vanishes into my body. A scream tears through me as I burn from within, my blood boiling. Collapsing to the ground, I convulse, tears filling my eyes.

"Nick might not have asked me to use this method, but I believe he would be pleased regardless if I get the same result."

In a desperate plea, I manage, "Please st..." My breath hitches, panting heavily as my fingers struggle to clutch my dress, a futile attempt to absorb the searing pain emanating from within. Before I can utter another word, a pained groan escapes me. The scorching bones in my fingers twist at odd angles, causing me to widen my eyes in horror, whimpering through the pain.

"Tell me where your family is, and I might stop," she demands, callously tearing open the skin on my arm with a blade made from her fire magic. Using that same magic, she turns the blade into a hand and wrenches every burning bone in my body. They snap like twigs, my face contorting in unimaginable pain. A scream erupts from my throat as the intensity of the agony surpasses anything I've ever felt. Blood flows from the cuts, staining the floor and soiling my dress. I'm going to die here tonight.

"Please stop; I don’t know," I cry out, tears streaming down my face. Despite the unbearable agony, I refuse to disclose where my family might be hiding. Revealing their location would seal their fate. I can't allow that. My heart aches at the thought of them surviving the initial attack only to meet their demise because of my words. No, I must stay strong. I bite down hard on my bottom lip, attempting to divert my mind from the pain. The taste of metal fills my mouth as I bite with all my might.

"Stop wasting my time and quickly tell me," Ava growls, abruptly lifting me off the ground using magic. I scream, thrashing in the air, praying gravity doesn’t take its merciless course.

"I don’t know," I reply, looking down, an immediate wave of regret washing over me. My head spins as the ground seems bottomless.

"Suit yourself then," Ava utters indifferently. She drops me to the ground as though I weigh nothing. The impact rattles the earth, my skull almost fracturing, but a pounding headache surges through my head. In that moment, I realize Ava is determined to end my life, and I choose to die for my family. I can't betray them.

Ava repeats the question multiple times, demanding the whereabouts of my family, but I refuse to yield. Eventually, she ceases her inquiries and gazes down at me on the floor, wearing a satisfied smile akin to an artist admiring their masterpiece.

My breath escapes in short pants, tears blending with the sweat streaks on my face, a macabre mixture with my own blood. Every inch of my body throbs with pain—from the inside out. The wounds are infected, bits of concrete particles that broke from my body, hitting the ground. I sob, gazing aimlessly at the ceiling, grappling with the perplexing question of how the hell I was still alive.

"Now, let’s put you back together," Ava meticulously places every twisted bone in my body back in its original position and expertly seals the fresh cuts she inflicted. Lying in my own pool of blood, I continue to stare at the ceiling, the echoes of her departing heels reverberating in my ears. Those few minutes felt like an eternity, each bone crack and wound seal inducing unimaginable pain. In those horrifying moments, I found myself wishing for death a hundred times over.

"Amelia," someone says, rushing into the room. I turn my head to the side and see it’s Eric. Horror fills his eyes as he takes in the sight of the blood pooling around me.

“What did she do to you?” he asks, his gaze fixed on me. I turn my head away, curling into a ball, bringing my knees to my chest. This is the cruel toll of being mated to a lycan. Quivers rack my body as wails tear out of me. I'm destined to die here, and my mate won’t even intervene.

***

I stir awake, groaning in pain as my body aches like it was engulfed in flames. Actually, it was, internally. Surveying my surroundings, I find myself on a bed, my blood-soaked clothes replaced. The last memory etched in my mind is crying in a pool of blood, with Eric attempting to communicate with me.

As I sit up cautiously, mindful of the bandages adorning my body. Ava sealed my wounds, but they were not properly done. Now, they are cleaned and properly bandaged. I strain my ears for any heartbeat besides mine. Marie is still unconscious due to lingering silver in my body, but I still have my werewolf abilities. They are just not as good as they would be if she were awake. I hear no heartbeat other than mine. I listen harder, my focus outside the room, but nothing. I decide to take the chance to try and escape from here before Ava decides to come back and finish the job. It's suspicious that there's no guard at my door, but I don't think anything worse can happen if I'm caught, so it is worth trying.

Dropping my feet to the bed's edge, I place my hand on the nightstand. Despite my protesting muscles, I muster the strength to stand, only to find my legs betraying me. I collapse to the floor, the nightstand's contents scattering as I struggle for support.

"Amelia!" Eric exclaims, entering the room. I gaze at him from the floor, immobile, my body protesting against the additional pain caused by my attempt to stand. Eric hurriedly picks me up, gently placing me back on the bed.

"Your body has barely healed. You shouldn't try that again," he cautions, tucking me under the covers. I remain silent, studying him, perplexed by his seemingly caring demeanor. What game is he playing? Why the pretense of concern when he likely plans to aid my mate in my demise?

"Why?" I inquire.

“Why what?” he responds.

“Why pretend you care if I'm well taken care of when you plan to help my mate dispose of me sooner or later?” He hesitates, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“I will let his majesty know you’re awake,” Eric says, ignoring my question and heading towards the door.

“His Majesty?” I interrupt, stopping him before he can open the door.

“Yes, your mate,” he replies, turning to face me.

My eyes widen. “You’re joking,” I laugh drily, staring at him in disbelief.

“Why would I?”

“You're telling me Nickolas Adams II is my mate?”

“Yes.”

I burst into louder, more bitter laughter, tears welling in my eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Eric inquires.

“What’s so funny?” I wipe away, escaping tears, locking my eyes with Eric. “I thought I had a chance of surviving this place until I found a way to escape. Now, I believe that will never happen because if Nickolas Adams II is my fucking mate, you might as well bury me now.”

No lycan on Earth harbors a deeper grudge against my family than Nickolas. My dad was responsible for killing his father. The only reason he suggested a peace treaty was due to his concern for the potential extinction of his people. This concern arose from the war the late Lycan king waged against werewolves, or at least that's what he led us to believe. In recent years, werewolf numbers have surged and terrorized lycans due to their numerical advantage, which I believe was allowed intentionally to mislead us. Nickolas requested a peace treaty, claiming the need to end the slaughter of his people, regardless of his desire to see my father’s head.

Lycans and werewolves, although of the same species, had long been enemies. Lycans, possessing superior strength, speed, and immortality, were traditionally oppressive towards werewolves. The origins of werewolves are traced back to a witch's creation, seeking to empower a supernatural force capable of standing against the dominating lycans. As they weren't a product of the moon goddess like lycans but were crafted by a witch with a deep-seated animosity towards lycans, werewolves were always scorned by their stronger counterparts.

For many years, werewolves served as slaves to lycans, enduring their oppression. It wasn't until a century ago that the first werewolf king emerged, liberating his people from servitude. However, even with newfound freedom, the werewolves struggled to shed the stain of their history. Lycan territories remained perilous for werewolves, and a mere accidental crossing could spell doom for them.

When I entered the ballroom, I didn't immediately guess ‘Nickolas’ was my mate. He exuded authority, and I presumed him to be the King's general, not the King himself.

I dreaded that my mate would use me as a pawn in settling scores with those who harbored grudges against my family, especially after the ordeal with Ava. Now, I realize that his personal animosity alone could be enough to end my life. I must recover swiftly and rid my system of silver. Every passing moment in this place feels like a countdown to my mate's arrival, and I am astonished that Alissa hasn't traced and attempted to rescue me. Could they have employed a spell to prevent it?

"You're not dead yet," a voice resembling my mate's remarks, yanking me back to the present. I glimpse him near the door, clad entirely in black, mirroring the shade of his heart. His black dress shirt contours his form, offering a tantalizing view of the muscles beneath. Even though this is the last thing I should be doing, I catch myself biting my lip, unintentionally gawking. Shit! I hate the mate bond.

His long legs, encased in black slacks, carry him forward as he pushes off the door, his expensive shoes emitting a rhythmic click against the floor. With purpose, he strides toward me by the bed. I stare star stuck, cursing the moon Goddess for giving me such a sexy mate who will only bring me my death. His captivating scent, one that might elicit howls of pleasure from Marie if she were awake, engulfs my senses as he bends down to examine my face. In truth, even I would revel in delight with his scent enveloping me. This has to be the worst type of punishment ever.

"The damage could have been worse," he remarks, his gaze roaming over the bandages that cover my body. In this close proximity, I catch a glimpse of the chiseled chest beneath his partially unbuttoned shirt. He's undeniably well-built.

Nickolas performs an action that leaves my eyes wide and my heart racing. He seizes my forearm, drawing me closer until our faces are mere breaths apart. I notice his eyes have turned red, and the rhythmic pounding of my heart against my ribcage intensifies.

"You are not allowed to die. Do you hear me?" he declares, staring me directly in the eyes. I'm left utterly shocked. Does my mate genuinely care about me? His prior statements didn't suggest such concern, so where is this coming from?

"Amelia," he pinches my arm, pulling me back to the present. I nod, understanding that he expects a response.

"Good," Nickolas says, releasing my hand and moving away. As he reaches the door and turns the knob, he utters words that shatter any hope in my heart of us being together. "I can't have you dying before I have made use of you."

The door slams shut as he exits, making me jump in the bed. I release a relieved breath. For a second, I thought he was going to do something horrible to me. Thank heavens!

I hear someone enter the room, prompting me to lift my head to see if Nickolas returned. Instead, it's a woman, likely a water witch. Her herbal scent matches the one who attended to my wounds earlier. She sports a secure bun with her brunette hair and appears to be in her early fifties. Flicking her hazel brown eyes in my direction, she walks towards one of the two doors in the room. One must be a bathroom and the other a walk-in closet.

She returns a few minutes later, making her way to me by the bed. Extending her hands towards my legs, I instinctively move away, avoiding her touch.

"I want to help you to the bathroom," she offers, prompting my confusion.

"Why?" I question.

"Because His Majesty has requested it," she responds, seizing my legs and shifting them to the side of the bed.

“Why?" I ask again as she picks up my left hand and drapes it over her shoulders.

“On three princess,” she says, ignoring my question and lifting me off the bed. I look at her, wondering who the hell she is and what’s going on.

My legs wobble as they touch the ground. I wrap my hand around her waist for support. Ava really did a number on me. I would've fallen if she wasn't holding me.

She leads us to the door she recently exited, revealing an exquisite en-suite bathroom. The space is a masterpiece, adorned with marble floors and walls, a claw-footed bathtub, and a separate glass-enclosed shower. The vanity showcases intricate carvings and details that speak of expert craftsmanship.

Seating me on the closed toilet seat, the woman moves towards the luxurious tub. With a graceful hand, she turns off the water and utters incantations, infusing the bath with herbs retrieved from her dress pockets. Despite her plain black dress, her movements carry an air of elegance. Returning to assist me, she aids in the removal of my clothes and bandages before guiding me into the herbal-infused bath. After ensuring my comfort, she exits the bathroom.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as the warm water caresses my aching muscles. Closing my eyes, I rest my head, reflecting on the whirlwind of events that unfolded in the past hours. In the blink of an eye, my life took a drastic turn. The fate of my family hangs in the balance – if they're not already dead, my mate will stop at nothing to hunt them down and finish the job. I met a handsome stranger who helped my mate slaughter my people.

"My life is perfect," I mutter, sinking deeper into the soothing embrace of the tub.

Speaking of the incident, I wonder how the twins knew Eric. They mentioned his name, and thinking about it now, I realize their father must have betrayed us. He is in charge of patrol, and only with him failing at his job could we have been attacked. The lycan king’s huge amount of entourage would have definitely raised a red flag to his underlings on duty. I can’t believe their father would betray his own kind. I have to wonder for what because every single dead werewolf’s blood is on his hands. I pray he never gets a good night’s sleep if Nickolas even lets him live after using him.

***

Exiting the tub as the water turns cold, I'm relieved to find my legs stable beneath me. I step out of the bathroom after wrapping a towel around myself. I notice fresh clothes laid out on the bed – a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt that fit like they were made for me. If I didn’t know better, I would say they were bought with me in mind. After dressing, I wait for either Nickolas or the mysterious woman’s return, but minutes pass without any of them showing up.

Looking around the room, my eyes light up as I notice a ray of sunlight streaming through the windows. I rush over and pull the curtains wide open, letting the sunlight flood the room. Daybreak! A small smile tugs at my lips – I've never been happier to see the sun in my life. Attempting to open the windows, I find them unyielding, but that's hardly surprising. Moving away from it, I search the room for anything that might aid in breaking it. The scent of lycans lingers outside, likely guards at the door, and they are just what I need to escape.

I grab the table lamp from the nightstand, my breath coming in shallow, panicked bursts. Without hesitation, I hurl it at the window with all the strength I can muster. The glass shatters, the crash deafening in the small room, shards scattering across the floor. My heart pounds in my chest, but I don’t waste a second—I dive under the bed, pressing myself flat against the cold floorboards.

Voices immediately erupt from the hallway, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. The guards burst into the room, their movements frantic as they take in the broken window and scattered glass. Exactly as I planned.

“She's escaped!" one of them shouts, and I hear their hurried footsteps retreating.

"Quickly inform his majesty," the other one commands, his voice fading into the distance. I wait for a few minutes before cautiously emerging from under the bed.

Approaching the windows, I confirm that they fell for my trap. My mate and Eric are running in the direction I would have taken if I had exited through the window. They're accompanied by high-ranking lycan soldiers. Perfect! Just want I wanted.

I swiftly move to the door, scanning the surroundings for any signs of lycans. Finding none, I dash down the grand staircase, through the foyer, and out the wide-open door, they left behind. I sprint in the opposite direction they took. Tall trees line the path, providing cover. I run, ignoring the pain from tree branches, pricking my skin from the thorns on them. My bare feet get stabbed with little stones on the ground, but I don’t stop and continue running.

I didn’t shift because it would be easier for them to sniff me out in the air and find me. I have no plan if I manage to escape successfully, but I will figure out something once I manage to. I wonder if I would be able to find Alissa and my family. Alissa must have hidden them somewhere no one would find them. In a way, I'm happy she did, but I'm also worried it means I might never find them. Hopefully, I will.