Chapter 110 The Bond Stirred

Chapter 110 The Bond Stirred
\- Princess Helena’s POV -
I woke up to a sharp pain in my body.
It felt as if every bone had been crushed and put back together the wrong way. My whole frame ached, making it hard to even move a finger. Even breathing hurt. A dull throbbing pulsed through my skull, each beat echoing like a drum.
Groaning softly, I tried to recall what had happened, but the memories were blurry, scattered like broken glass.
Slowly, I sat up, my eyes scanning my surroundings.
“What the—? H-how did I get here?”
My voice sounded weak.
Foreign.
The place looked like an abandoned building.
Dust floated in the air.
Cracked walls stretched upward, stained with age and neglect.
Broken wood lay scattered across the floor.
The smell of dampness and mold clung to everything.
A single narrow window allowed faint moonlight to slip inside, casting long shadows that twisted like ghosts along the walls.
I frowned, my head throbbing as I tried to piece everything together.
Then the memories came rushing back.
The old man in the middle of the road…
the sharp turn of the car…
the cliff…
the fall.
My breath hitched as panic struck me.
We.
Frost.
My son.
“Frost!” I called desperately, my heart racing with fear.
My voice echoed through the empty building, swallowed by silence.
No answer.
I tried to move, but that’s when I realized my wrists were tied tightly with ropes. Rough fibers bit into my skin, already raw from struggling. My chest clenched as I pulled against them, but they didn’t budge.
“Damn it! Who did this?” I hissed under my breath, struggling harder.
The ropes cut deeper.
Pain shot up my arms.
But I didn’t stop.
Then dread gripped me.
“Frost… where are you?”
My instinct screamed that he was alive.
I could feel it.
The bond between mother and child is stronger than distance.
Stronger than fear.
But the uncertainty ate at me.
My son was out there, somewhere, without me.
My sweet Frost.
My baby.
I wriggled my wrists, ignoring the dizziness that clouded my vision. Blood dripped from the side of my head, warm and sticky against my cheek, but I didn’t care.
I had to get free.
I had to find him.
But the ropes were tight.
Too tight.
My body weakened with every tug.
“Frost!” I cried again, my voice raw, but no one answered me.
“Who are you calling?”
The voice sent a chill down my spine.
Rough.
Old.
Familiar.
I turned my head sharply.
From the corner, an old man stepped forward, his long mustache twitching with every word. His figure emerged from the shadows slowly, as if he had been part of them all along.
My body froze.
My blood ran cold.
“Who are you!? Why are you doing this to me!?” I demanded, anger in my voice, even as fear coiled inside me.
The man came closer, his boots scraping against the floor.
He smelled of sweat, dirt, and something darker—resentment.
He knelt in front of me.
His hand shot out, gripping my chin ruthlessly. His fingers dug into my skin, pain shooting through my jaw.
“Don’t you recognize me, Princess?” he asked through gritted teeth.
I stared into his eyes—dark, greedy, full of wrath—and then I knew.
Recognition struck like lightning.
My heart dropped.
He saw my reaction, and only then did he release my chin, his touch harsh, uncaring.
“Jerson,” I spat his name coldly.
The former Alpha of the Rigorous Mountain Pack.
A man who once bowed to the crown.
A man who once swore loyalty.
A man whose pride had been crushed.
His presence reeked of fury.
Of revenge.
He clenched his fists, his body trembling, before smirking with cruelty. “Simple. I want you dead.”
My stomach twisted, but I didn’t look away.
Once, death was something I didn’t fear.
Once, I thought I had nothing to live for.
But now…
I was terrified.
Because I had a reason to live.
My son.
“Where is Frost?” My voice was cold, but it carried authority.
His response was a merciless kick to my head, forcing me to collapse to the ground. Stars exploded in my vision as pain burst behind my eyes.
“Respect, Princess. Your life is in my hands now. Stop spouting nonsense!”
Pain shot through my skull, but I pushed past it.
The way he spoke…
It was as if he didn’t know about Frost.
He hadn’t seen him.
My heart steadied just a little.
“Am I the only one you kidnapped?” I forced out, my voice flat, empty of fear.
“Who else, stupid bitch?” he sneered, kicking my stomach so hard blood spilled from my lips.
The impact burned.
My breath left me in a broken gasp.
But his words clarified it.
He didn’t know.
He didn’t know Frost existed.
Thank the gods.
I coughed, clutching the pain in my stomach, but inside, relief bloomed.
If Jerson didn’t know about Frost, then my son had a chance.
He was safe.
Somewhere, somehow, he was safe.
But he was alone.
And it was already night.
Outside the window, I could see the darkness swallowing the sky. Shadows stretched across the forest like claws. The wind howled through the trees, carrying distant cries of creatures waking for the hunt.
My chest tightened.
Dangerous creatures lurked in the forest at night.
Rogues.
Predators.
Things even werewolves avoided.
And I didn’t know whose territory we were in.
“Please… let Frost meet someone kind. Let him find help,” I whispered in my heart.
“You’ll die, bitch,” Jerson hissed.
I lifted my eyes, glaring at him coldly.
Inside me, the bond stirred.
Even in chains.
Even in pain.
I felt it.
A pulse.
A fire.
Froylan.
Somewhere out there, I knew he felt me.
He had to.
His son needs… him.