I walk around the room, searching for anything to help me pick the lock on my cell door. It's made of silver, so trying to break it down is out of the option. My actions suddenly halt, hearing the cell door squeak open. I whip my head toward the door, praying in my heart my mate isn't back to make good on his threat. I exhale when I get a different scent than his as the lights come on in the room. Eric and a woman with a herby scent tread into the room. The woman must be a water witch. Most of them are healers and deal with a lot of herbs. Witches are grouped by elements of nature, fire, water, earth, and air. They cast spells based on which element they are gifted with.
"Hi, Amelia," Eric greets. I remain silent, my gaze fixed on him and the water witch at his side, trying to decipher why they are here. My mate mentioned a woman would make me regret not disclosing where my family might be hiding. Is this water witch the woman he was talking about? As I said, most of them are healers, but they are also one of the deadliest witches out there.
Eric's voice carries a touch of concern as he approaches me, navigating the edges of the room. I instinctively step back, maintaining a wary distance. My attention might have been mainly on my mate in the ballroom earlier, but I saw him too, streaked with blood on his body from head to toe and Alphas' decapitated heads around him. We might have had an intense moment earlier that night, but it doesn't change the fact that he is the enemy.
"How are you feeling?" he inquires, his concern seemingly genuine. I raise an eyebrow, skeptical of his sudden care. He didn't hesitate to take lives earlier, so why express concern for mine?
"I understand why you would be wary of me, but I don’t wish to harm you, Amelia," he asserts, attempting to reassure me. I meet his gaze, skeptical about his gentle behavior toward me. He didn’t have a problem killing my people, so why should he care about me?
"Why are you here then?" I question, my tone holding a hint of suspicion.
He sighs before responding, "I am here to ensure you are prepared for what’s coming."
“What’s coming?” I press, shifting my gaze between Eric and the water witch by his side.
"You will find out very soon. Have a look at her, Hillary," Eric instructs the water witch. She approaches me, but I instinctively move away, keeping a safe distance on the other side of the wall.
“Don’t come close to me,” I warn, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want any witch around me right now. She could be trying to kill me for all I know.
“Amelia, she’s only trying to check on you. She doesn’t wish to harm you,” Eric reassures, closing the distance between us. Despite his assurances, I continue retreating from them.
“Why?” I question, baffled by their sudden interest in my well-being. It seems counterintuitive for those responsible for my injuries to now express concern about my health.
“We don’t want you to die when she comes,” Eric states, mentioning a ‘she’ as Nicholas did.
“When who comes?” I demand, my steps grinding to a halt.
"You will find out soon,” Eric says, abruptly seizing my hand. I tug my hand out of his, attempting to pull away, but his grip is unyielding.
I can't fathom why, but his words are challenging to believe. My mate isn't one to treat my wounds out of kindness, and he certainly won't use this approach to get information from me. Something feels off, and I'm left puzzled about what might be happening.
"I could sedate her with magic," the water witch suggests, positioned a few feet away.
"No! Stay the hell away from me!" I scream, desperation mounting. I struggle against Eric's grasp, determined to resist whatever they have planned. However, my efforts prove futile as he shoves me against the wall, securing me in place. The water witch conjures liquid from a bottle, muttering incantations for a spell. In moments, she douses my face with the enchanted water, and darkness envelops me once more.
***
Opening my eyes with a jolt, I take in the dimly lit room, grappling to understand my surroundings. A pang of disappointment settles in as I realize I’m still in the same cold and dimly lit space. For a second, I wished everything was a very elaborate bad dream that I could finally wake up from. As I gather my bearings, I sense something on my ribs and back. Lifting my dress, I discover bandages there. It strikes me - they genuinely treated my wounds. The question lingers: Why?
"Welcome back," Eric's voice reaches me from a few feet away. Hastily getting to my feet, I regret the decision as my body wobbles, nearly causing me to fall. Eric, with his lycan speed, swiftly catches me, preventing a mishap.
"You still have some of the silver in your system. You shouldn't try to move around too much."
I shove at his chest to create some distance as a headache starts to form. Closing my eyes, I massage my temples to alleviate the pain. The thought crosses my mind: Did they treat my wounds only to gift me a nasty headache in return?
"Sorry about that; it’s to make sure everything goes well," he apologizes, remaining uncomfortably close.
"I don’t know what games you are playing, but it won’t work. I will never tell you where my family is," I assert, brushing off the throbbing in my head.
"Games? We haven’t even done anything yet," confusion evident in his voice.
I open my eyes, locking gazes with him. "Then how do you explain what’s going on now?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asks, chuckling. My brows knit together.
"You know what I'm talking about," I grit out, my head pounding with every passing second. I search the room for the witch who treated me. I need to have a word with her. Who the hell treats someone's wounds and gives them a bad headache in return?
"No, I don't."
"You do,"
"He doesn't, and if you would just fucking calm down, the headache will stop," someone says from outside the cell. A whiff of rainforest hits my nose, and my blood runs cold. He's here.
With every step he takes, my heart pounds. I retreat from Eric further into the room as his footsteps draw closer and closer until he's in front of me. I gasp, finding myself face to face with the most exquisite emerald eyes I had ever seen but also the most terrifying. He used his lycan speed to close the distance between us in a matter of milliseconds.
"Be calm," he commands, in that thick British accent that makes any word that rolls out of his mouth the sexiest thing a man could ever say. I breathe in his scent, and a wave of warmth surges through my bones, and my headache starts to subside instantly. I hate that his scent can do that to me.
"Why is my head hurting after getting treated?" I ask, tilting my head back as I speak to him. He’s so tall.
"Side effects of the drug," he replies, moving away from me and approaching the door.
“What drug?”
“None of your concern.”
"What do you plan to do with me?" I inquire.
"You are about to find out," he replies and walks out, leaving me more confused than I was minutes ago.
I turn to Eric, about to ask him to explain when the clicking of someone’s heels outside my cell halts me. A beautiful redhead in her late forties or early fifties with brown eyes steps into the room. She sets her sights on me, and they light up, staring at me. I look at her, wondering why she’s so happy to see me even though I have no clue who she is.
“Your Highness,” Eric says, bowing his head. All the color drains from my face as my eyes widen in terror—a redhead Queen. There is only one person she could be.
“Hello, princess,” Ava, the Queen of Witches, says, her voice dripping with a sinister sweetness. Her lips, painted in a bold red hue, stretch into a big grin, revealing pearl-white teeth. Clad in a red pantsuit that matches her lipstick, with black heels adding a touch of elegance, she exudes an air of confidence and power. One look at her and it’s evident that red is her favorite color.
She moves toward me, an evil smile playing on her lips. Ava places her long, black-painted fingers on my chin, forcing my head to move from side to side.
"You might have your mother’s hair and face, but your eyes," she remarks with a disdainful click of her tongue. "Those are Becky’s," she adds, digging her nail into my chin, threatening to draw blood, before abruptly flipping my face to the side.
I pant, my heart pounding, fearing my death was near. There is no one on Earth that Ava hates more than Becky, my late fraternal grandmother. Becky was the one who killed Ava’s mate.
Ava turns away from me, directing her attention to Eric.
“Do you mind giving us some privacy before we start?” Ava requests, her voice carrying a chilling tone.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Eric replies. Thank heavens, he is not leaving me alone with this monstrous witch. Despite my mother resurrecting Ava’s mate, Leo, I know Ava still holds a deep-seated grudge against Grandma Becky for massacring half her kind while searching for her.
“I promise I only wish to speak to the child and nothing more,” Ava insists.
“Nick gave strict instructions not to leave the two of you alone,” Eric pushes back.
“I know, dear.” She moves closer to Eric, her hand gently resting on his shoulder as she locks eyes with him. “I promise I won’t do anything.”
Eric's Adam's apple bobs as he attempts to maintain eye contact with Ava.
“I will be outside,” Eric says, stepping back, causing her hand to drop from his shoulder. He turns to leave the cell, but not before stealing a fleeting glance at me, his eyes filled with an unmistakable pity.
“Good,” She says, turning away from him and fixing her malicious gaze back on me.
“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. Forbidd
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 domi
NICKOLASI stride out of the room where Amelia is, making my way to my office within the castle. As I approach the door, my legal advisor and best friend, Eric, intercepts me."What is it, Eric?" I inquire, entering my office with him following closely behind."Your mat..." Eric starts, but I cut him off abruptly, my jaw clenching as I ball my fists."Don’t ever fucking call her that," I retort through gritted teeth, my tone lethal."Got it," he responds, lifting his hand in surrender."She is nothing but a fucking prisoner to me; always remember that," I add, walking towards the chair behind my desk."Got it again.""What about her do you want to discuss?" I ask, taking my seat and retrieving my glasses from the desk drawer. Putting them on, I start sorting through the documents on my desk, searching for the most impor
AMELIA As I sprint through the forest, my ears pick up on the rhythmic sound of footsteps following closely behind me. Panic sets in shit – they must have seen through my ruse. My pace quickens, though I'm certain I'm already pushing myself to the limits of my speed. The sounds of pursuit draw nearer, accompanied by an unsettling scent permeating the air – the unmistakable aroma of Lycans. No, they can't catch me. I decide to take a risk, recognizing it as my only hope at this moment. I come to a quick stop, reaching for my shirt to take it off. Shifting requires undressing first; I don't have spare clothes to change into once I shift back, and I'd ruin this one if I shift without removing them first. The footsteps grow louder, and the urgency intensifies. The forest around me seems to hold its breath. Just at that moment, a thud echoes behind me, signaling someone's abrupt landing. The rich scent of rainforest envelops me, and my eyes w
I turn away from the door, curling up and drawing my knees close to my chest. With my eyes shut tight, I seek solace in the darkness—not for sleep, as rest is hard to come by in the enemy's den. I must bide my time, allowing my wounds to mend and gathering my strength before devising my next move.My brief moment of peace shatters as someone seizes my arm with force, wrenching me from the bed and sending me crashing to the ground. Ember's eyes blaze with unmistakable hatred as she looms over me, her grip unyielding as she drags me across the floor. A sharp pain shoots through my side as it scrapes against the unforgiving surface, eliciting a wince from me.Gritting my teeth, I lift my head defiantly, meeting Ember's gaze with a steely glare of my own. She knows full well that Nickolas has just drained the blood out of me, leaving me in no condition to withstand such rough treatment. As for how I didn't hear her approach, the result from Nickolas's draining the bl
NICKOLASI stand by the bed, glaring at my mate as she sleeps, a scowl etched onto my features. The sheets are stained with her blood, mud, and her fucking intoxicating scent—a scent that both infuriates and entices me. A low growl rumbles in my chest, remembering how amazing she scents. I clench my fists tightly, my jaw grinding as I curse the heavens for making her my mate. It could have been anyone but her, yet fate had other plans. Now, I find myself getting hard at the memory of her scent.They say your mate’s scent is the most intoxicating scent you'll ever encounter, and they weren’t fucking wrong. I could inhale her essence endlessly and never tire of it. The mere thought of burying my nose in her neck while thrusting into her hard sends a surge of desire coursing through me, my arousal evident in the pulsing of my dick. Fuck! I force myself to regain composure, running a hand across my face in frustration. I needed to fuck, but
AMELIAThe stinging of my cheeks jolts me awake, sending a surge of fear and confusion coursing through my veins. As I glance around the room, disoriented by the abrupt awakening, I see Ember standing by the edge of the bed, her gaze ablaze with intensity. There's no need for words; I understand immediately that she just used a slap to rouse me from my sleep.Gingerly, I raise my hand to my swollen cheek, the ache throbbing beneath my fingertips. I meet Ember's glare with a mixture of shock and apprehension, the weight of her hatred hanging heavy in the air between us."Get your fucking ass up," she barks, her words a harsh echo in the room. With a forceful tug, she yanks me out of bed once again, but this time, I manage to maintain my balance. I regained some of my strength as I healed during my sleep."Follow me," Ember commands, her voice laced with authority as she strides towards t
"Untie her this instant," Nickolas commands, his voice firm. The guard immediately begins to work on the knots binding me, but his hands pause at her words."But she bit me," Ember protests, pouting. She extends her hand to Nickolas, revealing the slowly healing wound due to it being a werewolf bite."And you think the appropriate response is to whip her?" Nickolas's voice carries a hint of disbelief as he fixes Ember with a piercing stare, his dark brow raised in questioning. Ember's expression falters, and she swallows hard before reluctantly nodding.A heavy silence settles over the room as Nickolas approaches Ember, his footsteps deliberate and purposeful. He leans in close to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he speaks in a low, almost menacing tone that still reaches my ears."I am only going to say this once, Amelia," Nickolas asserts, his tone steely as he pivots to face me. Our gazes