Chapter 166 166

Chapter 166 166
  MILLICENT
  Zayne and I ended up sitting on the cold marble counter like two kids who snuck out past bedtime, our mugs steaming between us. He swung one leg slowly, tapping the cabinet with his heel, pretending not to watch me even though he so obviously was. I took a long sip, the ginger was burning its way down my throat, and he mirrored me like it was some silent rhythm we’d accidentally fallen into.
  After a while the quiet got too heavy for my brain, so I blurted, “If you knew she was going to drug you anyway… why don’t you just take the pills normally?”
  His leg stopped swinging. His jaw tightened for a second, like he was preparing to dodge a punch. “I... really hate pills,” he muttered.
  “That’s your reason?” I raised a brow.
   “You asked,” he shot back, lifting his mug to hide the way his mouth twitched. “Happy?”
  “No,” I said honestly. “Try again.”
  He sighed dramatically, but there was honesty beneath it. “Fine. They make me feel… weird. Slowed down. And I can only tolerate that when I know you and my brother are too passed out to notice. Plus Mrs D and I already have this as our own thing.” He shrugged, shoulders tense. “I'm fine with being drugged.”
  My heart clenched, stupid and soft in my chest. “Zayne. You collapsing from lack of serotonin would scare me and your brother, not the pills.”
  He laughed quietly, shaking his head like he didn’t believe he deserved gentle words. “You sound like Mrs D.”
  “She’s a smart woman,” I said, bumping his shoulder. “And she’s right. You’re not a burden. You’re not weak.”
  He looked at me then. Really looked. And his eyes did that warm, dangerous thing that made me want to stop thinking entirely. But instead he asked, “What about you? Your wolf?”
  And just like that the air shifted again.
  I stared at the bracelet on my wrist, the metal looking darker in the low kitchen light. Heavy. Wrong. Selene’s words echoed through my mind like an old melody. The golden wolf is trying to unlock its abilities. Not be silenced.
  “I’ve decided something,” I whispered. Zayne put his mug down slowly. “Milicent…”
  “I’m taking it off.” he sighed. “Are you sure?”
  “Yes.” He swallowed hard, tension creeping into every line of his body. “It could hurt you.”
  “I know.” I kept my voice steady even though for once, I actually wasn’t. “But keeping it on is hurting too. Just… in a different way.”
  He scrubbed a hand through his hair and gave me that look—the one where he tries to hide fear behind sarcasm. “If you’re doing this, I’m not letting you do it alone.”
  I nodded once. “I want you there. But Zayne… no matter what happens, you’re not allowed to stop me. Okay?”
  He froze like I’d pinned him to the wall with my words. “Milicent—” I cut him off. “Promise me.”
  He stared at me for a long, slow moment, his chest rising and falling like he hated every second of what he was about to say. “In that case…” he finally muttered, “we better move somewhere far so Xander doesn’t come rain fire and thunder on me.”
  I snorted, smacking his arm. “He will.”
  “Exactly. So let’s run before he wakes up and sees you missing.” He slid off the counter and held out his hand. “Come on.”
  I slipped my fingers into his, and we padded out quietly like thieves. The manor was dark and still, the only sound our breath and the soft, ghostlike creak of the front door. Zayne’s car blinked awake when he unlocked it, headlights washing the driveway in pale gold.
  He opened the door for me. “Get in, princess. Before Mrs Dælora's experimental potion starts to work on us.”
  “Its Delora. See this is why she said to only call her Mrs D. You keep pronouncing it wrong.” 
  “Oh we know. We do it intentionally.” That made me laugh, the kind that eased something tight in my chest. I climbed in, and he started the engine, the low rumble filling the silence.
  We drove through the estate gates, the security guards pretending not to notice us even though their eyes moved nervously in our direction. Zayne drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at me every few seconds like he needed to make sure I was okay.
  Suddenly I realised where we were headed.  “You’re taking me to the lake?” I asked softly.
  “Yeah.” He kept his voice low. “Seemed… right.”
  The same lake Xander had brought me to when my wolf had been clawing at my insides. When we reached it, Zayne parked and killed the engine.
  I stepped out first, the cold air hitting my skin like a wake-up call. It was even more beautiful in the dark. The waves were beautiful and shimmering.
  “This place is perfect,” I whispered.
  Zayne nodded, coming to stand beside me, hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes kept flicking to the bracelet like it was a bomb about to explode.
  “You don’t… have to do it right now,” he murmured.
   “Yes,” I said. “I do.”
  He exhaled shakily, the breath fogging in the air. “Okay. Then I’m right here.”
  I lifted my wrist slowly. My heartbeat pounded so loudly it felt like it echoed—no, thundered—inside my skull. 
  “On three,” he whispered.
   “No,” I said. “I need to do it on one.”
  He gave a weak laugh. “Of course you do.” We both inhaled, breath held tight. I pinched the clasp with trembling fingers.
  “Milicent…” Zayne breathed. I tightened my grip and then...
  I took off the bracelet.
  LIAM
  I swear her voice is going to be the death of me.
  The sound of Milicent moaning was something out of this world. Soft, broken, drowning in pleasure as she came under the moonlight. 
  It's sound kept replaying in my head like some wicked spell I couldn’t claw myself out from. My mind kept throwing it back at me, again and again, like it wanted me to suffer. Like it wanted me to remember exactly what I’ll never get to touch.
   Her voice had this warm, shaking edge to it that made my entire body tighten the first time I heard it. A kind of sweetness dipped in danger. A kind of sound that could make a grown man fall to his knees and beg for crumbs.
  Beautiful wasn’t the word. It didn’t even come close. She was something else entirely. A storm dressed like a girl. Power in beautiful porcelain skin. Eyes that burned if you stared too long. A laugh that hit like lightning. And a face—goddess—that could ruin kingdoms if she blinked the wrong way. I’d seen women. I’d had women. None of them ever made me feel like my lungs were too small for my chest just from hearing their breath catch.
  Sometimes I wondered what kind of twisted joke the universe was playing. How could one single person be that beautiful, that powerful, that deadly, and still look like the kind of dream you didn’t want to wake up from?
  I dragged a hand down my face, trying to shake the thoughts loose. But then headlights sliced across the trees and gravel, cutting through the shadows around Brooks Manor like a knife.
  Zayne’s car.
  Finally.
  I stepped deeper into the darkness, letting the shadows cling to me the way they always did. The engine cut off and the door slammed shut. Zayne rounded the car and my heart jolted when I saw Milicent lay limp in his arms.
  Passed out. Completely gone.
  My fingers curled so tight they ached. Every part of me screamed to walk out there, rip her away from him, check her pulse, feel her breath, make sure she wasn’t hurt. But I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. I stayed frozen in the shadows like some sick spectator while he carried her inside.
  Restricting myself had become a daily thing. A choking thing and I hated it more than anything.
  A soft shift of air brushed the back of my neck and I didn’t need to turn to know someone had stepped into my space. “Is it done?” I asked quietly.
  “Yes, young Alpha,” the voice behind me replied, cautious and respectful. His voice was a little shaky like he weren’t sure if I was in the mood to be merciful tonight. He wasn't wrong to worry.
  I hummed, satisfied. “Good. She’s unscathed, I hope.” Silence stretched for a second. Too long.
  “Forgive us,” the person finally muttered. “The witch resisted and almost spelled us. We had no choice but to knock her out before bringing her.”
  I exhaled slowly, letting the irritation crawl up my spine. Not at the mistake. At the fact that I didn’t mind it. “That’s fine,” I said, turning at last, letting my eyes adjust to the faint light on the man’s face. “Her resistance will help me vent tonight.”
  He swallowed hard and nodded. “Understood.”
  “Let’s move.”
  We slipped out of the forest border, our steps silent, our scent masked with the powder I’d mixed myself. The border patrols didn’t notice us, they never did. They weren’t trained to catch ghosts. We cut across the woods, the ground damp from the night air, until the little shed came into view.
  Barely anyone knew it existed. Old wood. Crooked roof. But strong reinforcement under the floorboards. Soundproof walls. And enough space to hold exactly one very unfortunate witch.
  I pushed the door open and the stale smell welcomed me like an old friend. There she was.
  The witch was tied to a beam in the middle of the room, her wrists bound tight behind her back, her head hanging forward so her long hair hid half her face. Dirt smudged her cheeks. A bruise darkened her jaw. 
  The tools were already laid out on the table beside her. Clean. Sharp. Arranged neatly in a line like the promise of a long night.
  My fingers brushed over a metal rod, then a chain, then a blade. I wasn’t going to kill her. I wasn’t stupid. But pain was persuasive. And she had answers I needed.
  I crouched in front of her, brushing her hair back from her face. She flinched even in her sleep, like her body recognized that I wasn’t here to be kind. “Wake her,” I ordered.
  A bucket of cold water splashed over her before the words even finished leaving my mouth. She gasped awake violently, choking, head snapping up. Her eyes flew wide, disoriented, darting around until they landed on me.
  Fear.
  Good.
  She tried to jerk back but the ropes held her tight. The glowing orb in the corner should be able to shut out her magic incase she tried to resist. I leaned back on my heels. “There you are.”
  She said nothing. Just glared. Maybe she thought that would intimidate me.
  Cute.
  “Do you know who I am?” I asked. She didn’t answer. I smiled. “You will soon.”
  I grabbed the first tool, a thin metal rod, and let it clink slowly against the floor as I tapped it. Her jaw clenched but she was still silent. Let her be brave. Let her fight. It only made things more interesting.
  “Let’s start with something simple,” I said, lifting her chin with two fingers. “Who are you?”
  Silence.
  I slammed the rod against the floor. Hard. She flinched but still didn’t speak. “Why did the twins take you?” I asked again, voice dipping even lower. Silence.
  “Why are you connected to Milicent?”
  Nothing. Not even a twitch.
  I laughed softly. It wasn’t a happy sound. “You know, I admire it,” I murmured, stepping closer. “The stubbornness. The courage. Most people start screaming before I even ask my first question.”
  Still, she refused to speak.
  I brushed a thumb across her cheek and she recoiled as far as the ropes allowed. “It’s going to be a really long night, witch.” I whispered. “For both of us.”
  Then I stood, reaching for the next tool. Her silence wasn’t a problem. Her silence was a gift.
  Because it meant I could take my time.