Chapter 62
Waking up was agony. Pain hammered through my skull as if it were about to shatter. My vision was useless behind a thick blindfold, and my mouth was muffled by a gag. Ropes dug into my wrists and ankles, binding me tightly like an animal destined for slaughter. A cold chill seeped through my light dress, and my bare feet ached from the icy touch of the air.
The jarring shakes and jolts around me told me I was inside a vehicle, its uneven motion tossing my body like a rag doll. Where it was taking me, I had no idea. But I knew one thing—I needed to understand the situation I was in.
Pressing my face to the floor, I began rubbing it against the surface, desperate to dislodge the blindfold. With patience and persistence, I shifted it from one eye and then the other until it finally came off. The faint light of a control bulb, no larger than a coin, greeted me. It wasn’t much, but it revealed what I had suspected: I was trapped in the trunk of a car.
Squinting, I searched the cramped space for anything sharp, though I doubted my captors would leave behind something so careless. Still, I clung to the hope of finding the smallest stroke of luck. Twisting my numb muscles, I inched my feet toward the trunk's edge, straining against the confines. If I could find a way to push myself closer, maybe I’d discover a tool to cut the ropes.
A voice broke through the hum of the car engine.
"Hey, she awake yet?" a rough male voice barked.
I froze, my pulse racing, and strained to listen.
"Yeah, I think so," came a reply, groggy and disinterested. "At least my arm’s healed up."
“That pretty boy got you good,” the rougher voice laughed.
“Watch your mouth, Amias,” the second man growled, irritation sharp in his tone. “You couldn’t even lay a finger on him.”
“Relax,” Amias muttered with a huff. “No need to get all worked up.”
“Worked up? That bastard killed six of ours before we dropped him, and he nearly added you to the list!”
Amias snickered. “If you ask me, Hawk and his silver bullets did all the work. Didn’t even matter—turns out he wasn’t a vamp.”
“What?” the second man snapped.
“You heard me. He bled like any human would.”
My stomach twisted as their words sunk in. They were talking about Patrick. He had fought for me—against wolves, no less—and been shot for it. My heart ached as I pictured him standing against a pack, buying time for me. I prayed with every fiber of my being that he had somehow survived, though the way they spoke of him left little hope.
Tears threatened to spill, but I swallowed hard. This was my fault. My ignorance, my failure to act sooner, had led me here. Guilt clawed at me, but I forced it back.
“Thalassa,” I whispered to myself, steeling my resolve. “You’re not dying here. You can do this. Fight back.”
Fueled by anger and desperation, I braced against the trunk’s rough interior. The uneven road made every move difficult, but I refused to stop. Suddenly, a small strip of metal dislodged from the tailgate. My heart leapt at the sight, and I stretched my arms, straining to grasp it.
The voices in the cabin were my only cover, their laughter masking the faint sounds of my struggles. At last, my fingertips caught the edge of the strip. Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived—the metal was dull, useless as a blade.
“Think, Thalassa,” I urged myself. “There has to be another way.”
Holding the strip steady, I jammed it into the rope’s knots, using it as leverage. The bindings dug into my flesh, drawing blood, but I kept going. Pain meant nothing compared to freedom.
With one final pull, the ropes fell away. Gasping, I yanked the gag from my mouth, wincing at the sting of torn lips and a bitten tongue. My captors didn’t care how broken I arrived at my destination—so long as I was alive.
The car lurched forward, still moving. There was no time to waste. Peering through a tiny gap in the trunk, I spotted the lock. My trembling hands guided the metal strip toward it, nudging it into place. The lock clicked open, and the tailgate shifted slightly.
Freedom was so close I could taste it.
But as I lifted the trunk’s edge, a second car came into view, trailing close behind. My heart sank. Escaping unnoticed was impossible.
“Hey! What the—” Amias’s shout was followed by the screech of brakes.
The sudden stop sent me slamming against the trunk’s interior. The car behind swerved, barely avoiding a collision. Chaos erupted outside as slamming doors and furious voices filled the air. Growls and snarls quickly gave way to violent clashes, the unmistakable sounds of a battle.
And then, silence.
The trunk flew open, and a familiar face appeared.
“Did you miss me, Thalassa?” Hadrian asked with a smirk, his voice carrying equal parts relief and teasing.
Tears streamed down my face as I let out a shuddering breath. For the first time since I’d woken up, hope felt real.