Chapter 3 CHAPTER 003
Ari POV:
I didn’t remember how many days had passed since I was banished. Maybe three. Maybe thirty. Time had started to blur. Hunger had a way of making hours feel like decades.
I’d found a group of outcasts like me, wolves stripped of their packs, backless and nameless. Some had bite marks on their necks. Others had missing eyes, ears, fingers. All of us had one thing in common: we were rotting and barely alive.
There was no talking. No introductions. Just snarls and teeth.
We gathered behind the marketplace where food vendors dumped scraps and bones. The air reeked of grease, piss, and gas.
When the bins rattled, we pounced.
I never thought I’d fight for fish bones and moldy bread, but there I was, clawing at the ground, crawling on all fours, trying to grab a half-eaten meat pie that had fallen in the dirt.
A growl cut through the frenzy. Someone yanked me by the hair and shoved me into the mud. Another foot slammed into my side. I coughed, the world spinning. I reached for the food again, only for a sharp elbow to split my lip.
"Mine," the boy snarled. He was no older than fifteen, but his eyes were hollow. Dead. "It’s mine, you freak."
I didn’t argue. I crawled away, too weak to fight. Let them have it. Let them kill each other. I just wanted… peace.
I made it back under my bridge, shaking and empty. My stomach groaned with a hunger that bordered on madness. The moon wasn’t out tonight. Not even she could bear to watch me anymore.
I laid on my side, pulling my knees to my chest. I stared at my fingers, filthy, trembling, almost skeletal.
I didn’t cry. I was past that now.
By morning, the thirst hit harder than the hunger. My tongue felt like cotton. My skin was dry and cracked. My head spun as I staggered through the city’s edge, eyes searching desperately for water.
And then I saw a bridge over a river.
It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t pure. But it shimmered beneath the sun, cold and clear enough to tempt a dying girl.
I ran. Or limped. Or stumbled. Whatever it was, I ended up at the edge, my bare toes curling into wet mud.
I dropped to my knees and drank like an animal, slurping, choking, gasping. The cold burned all the way down to my soul. When I looked at my reflection, I didn’t recognize her.
Sunken cheeks, blood-caked lips, hollowed eyes all framed my features. My hair looked like a crow's nest. My body—a museum of bruises.
I hated her. I hated me.
The girl who gave everything for love. The girl who believed sacrifice would earn her a crown. The girl who had nothing left now, not even pride. That was when it hit me. There was nothing left to live for.
I stood up and looked at the bridge above me. The wind carried my hair back like it was saying goodbye as I made my way to the top. It was still too early in the morning so no one would see me or stop me. The water below lapped at the banks, whispering softly, "Come home."
I took one step. Then another. The concrete floor sucked at my feet like it wanted me to stay, but I kept moving.
This world didn’t want me. Not the packs. Not Riel. Not even the goddess who watched me crumble like dust.
So I did the only thing I had control over. I jumped.
The cold punched me first. My lungs screamed as the water closed around me, dragging me deeper and deeper into its belly.
Everything stopped. And I was ready for the quiet. Ready to let go.
My limbs went limp. My eyes fluttered shut. The current rocked me like a lullaby. And then I felt rough hands grabbing me, pulling and tearing me upward like I wasn't allowed to drown.
I didn’t know who or what it was. I tried to fight it, to sink again. But they wouldn’t let me.
The last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me again was a low, gravelly voice whispering something in a tongue I didn’t understand.
And then, nothing.
The first thing I noticed was the warmth.
My body was tucked beneath a thick wool blanket that smelled like lavender and strawberry. The mattress beneath me was too soft, too fluffy and unlike the harshness I was used to. It felt like I was wrapped inside a cloud, except, clouds didn’t come with restraints. I tried to move my wrists.
I jerked upright, panic tightening my chest as I realized I couldn’t move freely. My arms were tied to the bedpost with thick leather cuffs. Not tight enough to cut off blood, but secure enough to keep me from going anywhere.
I scanned the room in a daze.
There were high ceilings, stone walls, a fireplace crackling gently to my right, fur rugs, heavy curtains and a tiny window.
I wasn’t under the bridge anymore. Had the Hunters gotten me? Would they kill me?
"Hello?" My voice cracked like dried leaves. "Is anyone—"
The door creaked open gently and a shadow appeared. When the owner would emerge, my breath caught.
He stepped in with a dangerous air around him that said he was ready to kill me if I moved an inch. However, something else caught my eyes asides the fact that he looked every bit dangerous.
The man who entered wasn’t just handsome. No, handsome would’ve been too human. Too ordinary. This man was carved by war and wilderness. A masculine beauty wrapped in scruffiness, like the gods had dipped him in smoke and iron before sending him down to torment the earth.
Thick dark hair curled untamed around his ears. His jaw was sharp, overlaid with a scruffy beard that only added to the tension lurking behind his sea-storm eyes, gray with flecks of gold. And those eyes… gods, those eyes. They looked at me like I was the enemy. Like I’d killed his first love and spit on her grave. He was tall too. So tall and broad I knew if he wanted to kill me, he wouldn't even break a sweat.
He walked toward me slowly as if trying to study me. As soon as he got close, I could smell him.
"You awake finally," he said, voice deep and gravelly, like thunder rumbling in a mountain.