Chapter6
Three days later, I stalk into the luxury shopping district.
I enter a high–end boutique.
As I’m examining a silk blouse laced with silver threads for added strength, the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
My wolf growls a warning, but it’s too late.
A group of masked figures bursts through the back entrance.
Before I can react, a net made of enchanted iron–vine shoots out, ensnaring me.
The iron–vine sears my skin.
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I snarl, my fangs elongating, but the net tightens.
One of the figures approaches, holding a syringe filled with a glowing blue liquid – a powerful sedative laced with wolfsbane.
The needle plunges into my neck, and I feel the drug coursing through my veins.
My vision blurs.
The last thing I hear before succumbing is the mocking laugh of my captor.
When I wake up, I’m in a pitch – black room.
My hands are bound with chains made from the vertebrae of ancient werewolf warriors.
A hood covers my head, blocking out any light and heightening my other senses to an
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agonizing degree.
CRACK!
The first strike of a whip made from the tail of a thunderwolf lands on my back.
I bite down on my tongue, tasting blood.
“You’ve made powerful enemies, Stella,” a voice hisses from the shadows.
“And now, you will pay.”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The whip continues to rain down.
The scent of my own burning flesh fills the air.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the
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whipping stops.
I hear the sound of a phone being dialed, the electronic beeps echoing in the silent room.
“Sir, the deed is done,” a man says, his voice filled with malicious glee. A familiar voice comes through the phone. “Good. Send her back.”
It’s Frank.
He ordered this torture because I dared to challenge his precious Stephnie.
With a final, shuddering breath, I slip into unconsciousness.
When I wake up in the hospital, the smell of antiseptic and wolfsbane – soaked bandages fills my nostrils.
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Through the haze of painkillers, I overhear the nurses‘ whispers.
“Did you see that alpha? So handsome and so gentle with his mate.”
“Yeah, just a minor scratch and he’s fussing over her. And look at this poor soul, covered in wounds and not a single visitor.”
I rip out the IV needle, ignoring the sharp sting.
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I stumble out of the room and into the hallway.
There, in front of the VIP room, I see them.
Frank is holding a cup of water, his eyes soft and tender as he feeds Stephnie.
She looks up at him with a coquettish smile,
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and he gently wipes the water from her lips.
I lean against the wall, my legs threatening to give way beneath me.
I thought I had started to heal, but the sight of them together rips open the wounds in my heart. Don’t cry, Stella. I tell myself, but the tears still come, hot and bitter.
The day I’m discharged from the hospital, I return home, only to be greeted by the sound of familiar footsteps behind me.
I turn to face Frank, and for a moment, we simply stare at each other. Just then, my phone vibrates.
It’s my father, Mathew.
“Tomorrow is Stephnie’s birthday party. She’s been crying to me, saying she wants to make
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amends with you. You’re coming.” I scoff. “No.”
“Don’t be stubborn. This might be the last time. The Lyra’s Howl Pack has set the wedding date. Once you’re married off…”
I hang up, cutting him off.
I look up at Frank. “What do you think? Should I go?”
He stares back at me, his expression as cold and hard as the bone chains that bound
- me.
–
“You should go.”
“Fine”
“If that’s what you want.”
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The next day, I arrive at the birthday party.
The glass greenhouse is filled with the sweet scent of enchanted flowers and the heady aroma of expensive champagne laced with wolfsbane – free herbs.
Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room.
Stephnie, dressed in a pink, fairy – like gown, looks every bit the princess as she’s surrounded by adoring guests.
“Sister!” she exclaims, rushing towards me with a fake smile.
I sidestep her, my eyes sweeping over the room filled with lavish gifts from my father- limited – edition Hermès bags, Tiffany blue boxes containing silver – lined jewelry, and even a set of car keys to a brand–new
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Porsche modified for werewolf speed.
“Stephnie has always been so sweet and kind. She’s my precious little girl,” Mathew says, beaming with pride as he stands beside her.
After the cake is cut, the guests begin to mingle.
I overhear Stephnie’s friends gossiping.
“Stephnie, there are so many eligible alphas here tonight. Is your dad trying to set you up?” one of them asks.
Stephnie smirks, her eyes flickering towards
- me.
“My engagement to the Lyra’s Howl Pack alpha is off.”
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“Thank goodness! I heard he’s practically a cerebral palsy. You’d be a widow before the wedding night!” another laughs.
“So, what’s your ideal man like?”
Stephnie blushes.
“First, he has to love me more than life itself, enough to tattoo my name over his heart. Second, he has to be brave. I want him to fetch me the rare Thorns of the Moonflower from the top of Mooncliff, where the ancient werewolf guardians still prowl. And third…” Suddenly, the doors of the ballroom burst open.
“Alpha Finn has arrived! He comes bearing gifts and good tidings for Miss Stephnie!”
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