Chapter 21 Feel weak
The guards nodded without hesitation, their cold, pale hands gripping my arms again to lead me out of the room. My stomach twisted, not just at the punishment, but at the cold finality in Jaden’s tone. His words struck me like a slap, sharp and unforgiving. Yet, there was a flicker of something buried deep in his dark eyes a crack in his otherwise impenetrable mask, a fleeting trace of conflict that made my heart pound with a mix of hope and dread.
As they dragged me through the endless corridors of the pack’s fortress though I knew this was no ordinary wolf pack, but a den of ancient, predatory werewolves, Harriet’s cruel laughter echoed faintly behind me. The sound was chilling, like nails scraping against old wood, and it cut through the silence with cruel precision. I gritted my teeth, swallowing back the fear and humiliation that threatened to rise. I vowed then and there that I wouldn’t let her or Jaden see me crumble. They might break my body, bruise my skin, but my spirit that fragile human spark was another matter entirely.
They threw me into my room with Jane, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind me with a finality that echoed in the stillness. The coldness of the metal bars on the small window reminded me of my own fragility, how exposed I was among these immortal creatures with their sharp claws and glowing eyes. I was the only human, the only fragile heart beating among their unyielding darkness.
As soon as the footsteps faded, I slipped down onto the hard stone floor with unexplained anger flooding my veins. I clenched my fists so tight my nails bit into my palms, grounding myself as I fought to calm the storm raging inside. The room was dimly lit, the faint silver glow of the moon seeping through the barred window, casting ghostly shadows that danced like specters on the cracked walls. The silence pressed down on me, but it wasn’t the absence of noise that set my blood boiling—it was the helplessness, the way my fragile human body was trapped in a world ruled by creatures who thrived on strength and fear.
Jaden’s cold face flashed in my mind, his voice echoing in my ears—unyielding, merciless. But that flicker of something beneath his mask, was it doubt? Regret? I hated that I noticed it, hated that it planted a seed of uncertainty in my resolve. He was no ally, no savior. Yet, why couldn’t I shake the feeling there was something more—something buried deep in that cruel heart of his?
I took a shaky breath and forced myself to stand, leaning heavily against the cold wall for support. Harriet’s mocking laughter replayed in my mind, each cruel note like ice against my skin. She’d won this round, but it wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
I glanced around the sparse room, searching for anything—anything that might help me channel the rage threatening to consume me. The cold stone beneath me was unforgiving, but it grounded me in my fragile humanity. If they thought they could break me, they were wrong. I wasn’t just another pawn in their dark games. Not anymore.
Night crept in slowly, heavy and suffocating, but Jane didn’t return. I tied my hair into a tight knot, my fingers trembling as I dragged myself onto the rock-hard mattress that did nothing to ease my aching bones. I lay there, swallowed by my swirling thoughts, the faint pulse of my human heartbeat a fragile beacon in the darkness, until finally sleep claimed me.
But in the dead of night, a sudden harsh beam of flashlight stabbed into my face, burning through the haze of sleep. Before I could even open my swollen eyes, I was jerked from the bed by my hair. Pain exploded along my scalp, and I was slammed against the nearest cold, unyielding wall before I fully woke. Drowsy and confused, I squinted against the blinding light, the metallic scent of blood faint but real in the air.
I could tell it was a group of girls—slave girls, like me in a way, yet hardened by their own sufferings. The same one who dragged me out of the bathroom last time stood in front, her eyes sharp and unforgiving. “Thanks so much,” she sneered, shoving me hard against the metal rails of the bed. I winced as bruises bloomed along my ribs. “You pissed those bitches off and now we’re paying the price,” she growled.
“Guess who’s going to wash all the pack’s robes now,” she spat, her words thick with venom. My mind was already drifting, clouded with fatigue, my human strength slipping like sand through my fingers. “You think we’re gonna clean up your mess? You think this is your father’s courtroom or something? A breeder or whatever. You’re a slave now.”
She grabbed my neck with brutal force, tugging hard, her nails digging into my skin like claws. “Wake the fuck up! This is a werewolf pack. Human or not, you’re still one of us,” she hissed fiercely in my ear. “You watch your behavior or that bitch will come back for your ass,” another warned.
I gritted my teeth through the pain. They didn’t know me. They didn’t know what hell I’d already survived. Whatever they threatened—beatings, isolation, whatever dark torment—was nothing compared to what I’d already faced. My human heart beat stubbornly beneath my fragile skin. I was stronger than they realized.
“Do you think you’re better than us?” she sneered, her voice dripping with hatred.
Suddenly, a sharp knock sounded on the door, tapping out a specific pattern—an urgent signal from someone outside. Panic flashed in their eyes, and they scrambled to escape. But before leaving, one shoved me hard against the cold metal rails again. “This isn’t over, bitch.” The shove sent me sprawling onto the stone floor as she dashed out, the door banging shut behind her.
I didn’t know who they feared, but I was silently grateful to whoever was patrolling the hallways tonight. Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself up, clutching the bed’s iron headboard to steady myself. Sitting upright, I braced for whatever came next.
The lock clicked, slow and deliberate, twisting in the silence, and my stomach clenched. The door creaked open, letting in a sliver of harsh hallway light that cut through the gloom. A tall figure stood silhouetted there.
It was Jane.
Her face was unreadable in the dim light, her pale skin almost glowing against the darkness, her sharp features set in hard lines. She said nothing at first but her gaze swept over me, lingering on the bruises blooming on my arms and neck—marks of my captivity and vulnerability.
“Do you ever learn?” she finally asked, her voice low and cutting like a blade. “Or do you enjoy making enemies everywhere in this pack?”
I glared at her, a fire flaring deep inside me despite the pain. “If you’re here to lecture me, save it. I don’t need your pity or your condescension.”
“Pity? No. Condescension? Maybe.” She turned toward her closet, her movements sharp and precise. “But you’re walking a dangerous line. Harriet isn’t the only one watching you. Next time, they’ll beat you worse than today.”
Her words stung, but I refused to let her see it. With trembling strength, I pushed myself off the mattress, meeting her cold gaze head-on. “I don’t need you to save me, Jane. I’ve been through worse than this, and I’ll survive.”
“You’d better,” she said finally, voice low and warning. Without another word, she turned and left, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.
I stared at the door long after it closed, my fists trembling at my sides. Her words echoed in the room a mix of threat and something darker, something I couldn’t quite place.
One thing was clear now: Jaden was far more dangerous than I’d ever imagined. I was going to be tested, broken again and again, until I fell at his feet.
But I would never let him claim my soul.