My heart bleeds more than it ever has before. Tears relentlessly fall from my already swollen eyes.
Alpha Torrin’s horrible situation back in the prison cell is the only thing running through my distressed mind.
"Just behave and do everything I tell you to do. Torrin will stay alive, and everyone in the Dingle Valley will be safe," Damian repeats. His voice was usually nonchalant, but now it’s consistently eerie and cold.
He reaches for my face, but I instinctively jerk away.
His eyes narrow before he grabs my arm and forces closer to him.
"Being depressed won’t make your situation better. Why don’t you just try to be happy with ? To forget about Torrin?" he hisses.
I’m itching to answer him, but honesty will only hurt his pride, and he knows it. He’s just probably waiting for a reason to snap again and act on his threats.
But, I won’t fall for that cheap trick. If I want to survive this manipulation ga he’s playing, I have to play along.
"Fine. Instead of being aggressive and intimidating, why don’t you show how... like you did before?" I say.
He stares at for a mont, as if trying to detect a trap, then smiles - the kind of smile he used to give before everything fell apart between us. "Prepare yourself. I’ll co back in half an hour. We’ll have dinner at Frostveil’s business district."
When he leaves, I quickly grab the Dingle Valley credit card from the bedside table and tear it in half so no one can use it to damage their financial stability. Then I pull out my phone and send a text to Harper, explaining what happened to and Alpha Torrin. I tell her to inform Magdalene and not to worry about us or themselves.
I also send Eric the sa ssage and advise him to be careful, since what they did in Dr. Reyes’ laboratory is being investigated.
Finally, I drag myself into the shower and stay there until my tears dry on their own.
When I co out, an Oga - the sa one I t the first ti I was here, is preparing a dress, a pair of boots, and a fur winter coat for .
"I’m Harleigh Hale. I forgot to ask your na before."
"Of course I know you. My na is Francheska Goz," she replies, still carrying the sa enthusiasm she had back then.
Then,...
I lower my voice so the Gammas outside the bedroom, who are in-charge to keep an eye on twenty-four seven, won’t hear. "Are the Frostveil werewolves happy with Atticus’ taking over the pack?"
She hesitates for a mont before shaking her head. "Most of us believe that Alpha Torrin didn’t leave suddenly, but was killed so Atticus could steal his title. But without proof, we have to accept what was told to us and give Atticus a chance to lead us."
"What if I tell you Alpha Torrin is still alive and jailed in your pack’s prison?" I whisper.
Francheska’s eyes widen in disbelief.
"He’s not in good condition. I hope you can help, since I’m not allowed near him," I add.
She nods with determination.
"There are around three Gammas guarding him in the underground level of the prison. I need you to discreetly and regularly bring him a doctor to check on his health. I’m not sure how you’ll do it, but look for Eric Boyle. He may have an idea how," I say.
As she rushes off, I text Eric again.
-[Francheska Goz is looking for you. Help her.]-
My phone is bombarded with Eric and Harper’s ssages and missed calls. As much as I want to call them back, I can’t for security asures.
Suddenly,...
Damian’s voice echoes through the door. "Are you ready? Can I co in?"
I frantically hide my phone beneath the mattress. "No, not yet! Give five more minutes!"
Quickly, I put on the clothes Francheska brought for , then rush out of the bedroom to et Damian, who greets with a smile.
I try to return his smile, but my heart stings at the effort of even just faking it.
Then, a wave of disgust twists through when he wraps an arm around my waist as we walk toward the parking space.
As we pass by his forr ho while in his car, I blurt out, "So your house is empty now. It seems like it’s always been too small for you and your father."
I expect him to take it as an insult, but luckily, he doesn’t.
"The Alpha must live in the Alpha’s mansion. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be promoted to an Alpha position too. That’s why I’m now living in the mansion with dad," he boasts.
My chest tightens, but I force myself to stay calm.
"But," he goes on, "If you like that forr house of ours, we can live there together. I know you and dad are uncomfortable around each other, so it’s not practical for you to stay in the Alpha’s mansion. Or, we can build a brand-new mansion anywhere in Frostveil’s territory of your choice."
I don’t like where this is going, so I quickly divert the subject back to his promotion.
He talks and talks about it, but I barely listen. Before I know it, we’re already parked in front of his favorite restaurant.
I have no appetite. But to avoid angering him or giving him any reason to think I’m not obeying him, I order a duck confit with chestnut velouté and a glass of winter lon tea.
As I force myself to finish my al while he enjoys his, several diners keep glancing toward us with repugnance and whispering among themselves.
I feel so small, ashad.
They’re probably assuming I played a huge role in Atticus’ plan to steal the Alpha title from Alpha Torrin.
Well, they’re not entirely wrong. I’m to be blad too for what Alpha Torrin has beco.
"By the way," Damian says, snapping from my thoughts, "Before this night ends, dad will make the announcent that Alpha Torrin has been killed by rogues. I’m telling you this so you won’t overreact when you hear it."
"What if Alpha Torrin cos back? How would you explain your father’s fake announcents to your pack?" I ask.
Damian angrily smashes his fist to the table, rattling the plates and glasses, while making jolt and the others nearby.
He hisses in a low voice so the others won’t hear him, "Even if they find out that we’ve lied, they will have no choice but to still accept us because Torrin is already as good as dead. He can’t lead anymore, let alone rember or think properly."
I shut my eyes, refusing to rember Alpha Torrin’s condition.
Then,...
Damian clutches my jaw, forcing to look at him. "If you provoke again, I’ll make you regret it."
The next ti I provoke you, you’ll be dead!
As we head back to the Alpha’s mansion, my mind fus with strategies on how I can kill Damian.
Should I do it now, while we’re alone in his car? But that would make the primary and only suspect.
Does that even matter if it ans saving Alpha Torrin, and Alpha Torrin saving from Atticus’ punishnt and his pack from Atticus’ governance?
But,...
What if I fail? What if Damian fights back and overpowers ? I’ll be dood. Alpha Torrin, the free wolves of the Dingle Valley, and everyone who believes in us will be dood as well.
I’m snapped out of my spiraling thoughts when Damian lets out a mirthless chuckle. "I’m sure you’re not thinking about harming or killing again?"
A soft gasp escapes . "N-n-no."
His eyes narrow toward my hands, which are partly shifting into wolf-like with claws protruding from the tips.
Panicked, I rub them against my thighs until they return to their human form.
I then scramble for an excuse, but nothing cos.
"Look, I’m just joking," Damian says. "I’m sure you won’t dare kill again. Because if you do, nothing will stop dad from killing both you and Torrin anymore."
To eliminate his suspicion, I reach out and lightly place a hand on his chest, forcing a seductive tone into my voice as I lie, "Please don’t think like that. Recently my wolf has been getting out of control, especially after I severed my bond with you. Haven’t you experienced the sa?"
He suddenly goes quiet.
Does he believe ? Or is he dealing with issues with his wolf after our bond was cut?
The air thickens more the mont we step into the Alpha mansion’s living area where Cassandra with several red-haired werewolves are, along with Atticus.
"At last! You’re back!" Atticus exclaims at Damian. "Co, we’re already planning our wedding, which will take place a week after your promotion."
Damian grins nacingly and pulls close. "Are you open to having a double wedding? Harleigh and I would like to tie the knot as soon as possible too."
My stomach churns.
Damian’s hand squeezes my waist, his glare silently ordering to agree with his twisted desire.
When I can’t obey him, he leans down and whispers, "Go ahead. Refuse . Let’s see if you can handle the aftermath."
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