~ ROSELLE ~
I’ve never been this dumbstruck in my life. I don’t know why she’s trying to convince to leave while also trying to help at the sa ti.
Ronan doesn’t seem like a bad person. He’s gentle. He’s...
Hell, I’ve never been standing at a crossroads like this before, where the rumored deadly Alpha turns out to be nice to . The entire world paints him as a vicious monster, yet he’s been nothing but soft and patient around .
I might have convinced myself earlier that he wouldn’t want a dumb mute like , but he stood up for when his pack mbers tried to attack , he commanded them to apologize. He carried back to the room. He...
I blink slowly, staring right at Mara. Her offer rings in my ears. It’s everything I wanted this morning, money, transportation, a safe house, a way out.
But why would she help ? Why is she trying to offer an escape?
It’s suspicious. I know I didn’t think much of it earlier because of my own insecurities, but now it’s dawning on that I need to think beyond my feelings.
"Why?" I sign. "Why would you help ?"
She leans forward in her chair.
"Because I’ve been in this pack longer than you have," she says. "And like I told you earlier, I know what happens here. I know what happens to the won Ronan brings into this place."
Her expression hardens. "I’m not your enemy, Roselle. I know it looks that way, but I’m the only person in this building who’s telling you the truth."
I stare at her for a minute, a habit I’ve developed from trying to study people. The sincerity in her eyes tells she’s speaking the truth...
"Don’t let his sweetness get into your head. You saw it earlier, he doesn’t want anywhere near you. That’s because he’s trying to conceal the truth from you. He’s trying to keep away so you can fall into their system. So you can feel welco."
She pauses before continuing.
"I’m not saying he isn’t capable of kindness." She leans forward slightly. "I’m saying I’ve seen this before. I’ve watched him do it before. Every single bride he brought here, every one of them, he was kind to."
Her gaze locks onto mine. "Do you understand what I’m telling you?"
I nod, the answer I’ve been looking for finally falling into place, the last piece of the puzzle clicking together. He’s a sadistic monster wearing the face of a kind man.
"Should I start with the flowers?" she continues. "He sent one of them flowers every morning for three weeks. Had them picked fresh from the east garden before she woke up. She used to tell she’d never felt so seen in her life."
She pauses. "And then, just when she finally felt like she belonged, like she was loved, she was dead four months later."
A chill runs down my spine, ice flooding through my veins until my entire body freezes. My eyes widen.
"The second?" she continues. "He built her a library. Stocked the room with books, had an entire wing redesigned, shelves stretching from floor to ceiling, a reading chair imported from three territories away, her na carved into the doorfra."
She holds my gaze.
"He spent six weeks on it, and she didn’t live long enough to see it finished."
My hands lie very still in my lap, though they’re trembling with fear.
"The one before that loved music," she continues, her eyes narrowing on mine. "He had a grand piano brought in on the backs of four vehicles. Hired the best instructor in the territory to teach her. Threw a dinner in her honor and invited every senior pack mber to attend."
Mara tilts her head.
"She collapsed at the dinner table. Her death was recorded as natural. No trace of poison or any other cause was ever found."
I look toward the window, searching for so kind of escape from the horror story unfolding in front of .
I can’t say a word..Even when I try to form one, nothing cos out. My throat feels tight. My chest feels heavy. Instead, all I can hear is the frantic pounding of my heart, hamring so hard it feels like the entire room is closing in around .
"He’s doing what he always does," Mara says. "Pretending he can take care of everything. Fixing problems. Making people feel comfortable, safe, and looked after. And he does it beautifully. Nobody does it better, I’ll give him that."
She pauses, her expression turning grim.
"And then the curse takes them anyway. And all the flowers, libraries, and pianos in the world don’t change what they find the next morning."
She sits back, crossing her arms loosely.
"He’s a master manipulator. Honestly, why do you think the entire pack fears him?" She lets the question hang between us. "But I’ll warn you of this, every bride he’s brought here has felt exactly what you’re feeling right now."
Her gaze pins in place. "That pull, that voice in your head telling you he’s different with . He’s trying. Maybe I’m the one who changes things."
A bitter smile touches her lips. "And they all felt it. Every single one of them."
Her expression hardens. "And they’re all in the ground."
She shakes her head bitterly. "I warned them about the doom hanging over them. I warned every one of them. But they refused to listen."
She reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out sothing small, a folded piece of paper. Leaning forward, she sets it on the bed beside my hand.
"That’s an address. A place you can go to in neutral territory. It’s about three hours east of here. When you get there, ask for a woman nad Sena. She runs a house there and keeps completely off the grid." She pauses. "I’ve already sent word ahead, hence she’s expecting soone."
Her gaze drops briefly to the paper.
"You don’t have to decide now. But if you decide to go, tonight, tomorrow, whenever you’re ready, you use that address and tell her Mara sent you."
I stare at the paper without picking it up.
"And if I stay?" I ask, imdiately regretting the question. It sounds stupid, considering she’d just spent the last hour warning about my impending doom.
Her face tightens into a deep frown for a fleet second, the loosen up instantly.
"Then you stay," she says simply. "And I hope, for your sake, that you’re different. I genuinely do."
She stands, smoothing down her clothes before picking up the dark wig from the armrest.
"But hope isn’t a plan, Roselle. And this pack has already run out of hope for six won who deserved better."
She crosses to the door. Pauses with her hand on the fra.
"Don’t mistake his kindness for safety," she says without turning around. "He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s been doing it for years, and what makes you think he’s going to change all of a second? Think about this"
Then she opens the door and leaves, pulling it shut behind her with a quiet click that sounds impossibly loud in the silence she leaves behind.
The mont she leaves, my heart rate spikes. For several long seconds, I just sit there staring at the closed door, listening to the echo of her words bouncing around inside my head.
They’re all in the ground.
My hands move before I can think better of it. I snatch up the folded paper, my fingers trembling so badly I nearly drop it, and fear grips tight as I stare at the address written across it.
An escape route. A way out.
My pulse pounds harder as I fold the paper again, smaller this ti, and slide it beneath the fabric of my dress, hiding it where nobody will think to look.
This alone gives hope, hope that I can get away from this pack and disappear sowhere far from here, even if I have no idea what awaits in the place I’m planning to run to.
But running blindly gets people caught. If I’m going to escape, I need to know this place first. I need to know the pack, the routines, the guards, and the exits. I need to know where everything is before I make a move.
I need a plan. A few minutes later, the bedroom door opens, and my entire body locks up.
Ronan steps inside. The sight of him turns the blood in my veins to ice, and my face imdiately goes pale.
Just monts ago, I would have felt relief seeing him, maybe even a bit comfort.
Now all I can see are flowers, a library, and a grand piano, and fucking worse six dead won.
A scream climbs into my throat, but I swallow it down before it can escape.
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