Chapter 20
· Aubrey ·
The worst part is the council seat. If Rhett manages to worm his way onto the council, he’ll have the authority to enact laws, to shape policy.
He’d rewrite the very rules that govern our kind, twisting them to his own purposes.
Without my father, without my mother, who’s there to stop him from taking the pack if he does manage to mark me?
My chest tightens with a mix of fear and fury. My family worked their whole lives to protect our people, to ensure the safety and stability of our pack. And now, in one fell swoop, Rhett could erase all of that.
I redouble my efforts, twisting my wrists against the restraints until they burn. I can feel the skin breaking, raw and scraped, but I keep pushing, keep straining, ignoring the pain. I can’t let this be the end. I won’t.
“What if Soren finds all this out? He’ll come for her. He’ll hunt you down for this.”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of Soren’s name.
A glimmer of hope flickers within me, fragile and fleeting.
Soren—he wouldn’t let Rhett do this to me.
But that hope is quickly extinguished by the realization Soren has no idea where I am.
He probably doesn’t even know I’m missing yet, and by the time he does…
Rhett’s words ring in my mind, cold and certain.
Once I mark her, she’s mine. The bond would sever any chance I have of reaching out, of being saved.
And even if Soren did find me, would he still want me if Rhett marked me?
I could be lost to him, my loyalty warped, my will bound.
“Let him try,” Rhett says dismissively, the arrogance in his tone infuriating. “He won’t find her in time. Once I’m done with her, she’ll be a blood bag for the Vampire King, and I’ll be set for life.”
Blood bag? The words sink in, cold and poisonous.
He doesn’t just want to claim me for his twisted ambitions—he wants to use me as currency, a bargaining chip to buy favor with the Vampire King.
My stomach twists, a fresh wave of nausea surging up as the horror of it all hits me.
Rhett doesn’t see me as a person, a leader, or even an enemy.
To him, I’m just a means to an end, something to be used and discarded, drained of life and purpose until there’s nothing left.
I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing hard, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill.
I can’t afford to break down. Not here, not now.
I force myself to focus and channel the rage and fear twisting inside me.
If I’m going to get out of here, I need to keep it together.
I am not a blood bag. I am not his possession.
Bianca’s voice cuts through my panic, sharp and skeptical. “And what makes you think the Vampire King will honor your deal? Vampires aren’t known for keeping promises, Rhett. You’re playing a dangerous game here.”
“Because he knows better than to cross me,” Rhett snarls, his tone filled with a twisted confidence. “I have leverage that even he can’t ignore.”
Leverage. The word hangs in the air, ominous and dark.
I don’t know what kind of leverage Rhett thinks he has, but it’s enough to give him the confidence to gamble everything—enough to make him think he can control a Vampire King, the council, and the packs.
His arrogance is terrifying, the kind of delusion that leaves destruction in its wake, and I realize with sickening clarity he truly believes he can pull this off.
Something shifts inside me. My desperation sharpens into resolve, hard and unbreakable. I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to stop him, no matter the cost.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and in that moment, I feel it—the faintest prickling at the tips of my fingers, the familiar, comforting ache of my claws slipping free from my fingertips. For a second, I freeze, hardly daring to believe it. The wolfsbane is wearing off.
Without hesitation, I twist my hands, angling my claws against the thick leather straps binding my wrists.
The movement scrapes my skin, opening the cuts that already sting with rawness, but I grit my teeth and keep going, sawing at the restraints with everything I have.
My claws tear through flesh and leather alike, slicking my wrists with my own blood and making the metal table beneath me cold and slippery.
The pain is sharp, searing, but I don’t stop—I can’t. This is my only chance.
“I know what I’m doing,” Rhett retorts, his voice rising, thick with impatience. “You need to stop questioning me!”
Bianca scoffs. “You think you’re in control, Rhett? You think you can just manipulate a council, an entire pack, a Vampire King? You’re delusional if you think this is going to end well for you.”
Rhett’s growl reverberates through the room, and I picture his eyes flashing with fury. “I didn’t kill my own father and orchestrate all of this just to have you question me now.”
I clench my teeth, sawing faster. The strap starts to give under the pressure.
I don’t have time. The urgency pounds through me, each heartbeat a reminder that if Rhett succeeds, everything I know will be lost—my pack, my family’s legacy, everything my parents built. I can’t let him win. Not like this.
My fingers tremble as I work. Just a little more.
A soft metallic clink interrupts her words, barely audible over their argument.
But to me, it’s deafening. My breath catches as I realize what it means.
The leather finally snaps, and I yank my wrist free, ignoring the sting of torn skin and the slick warmth of blood coating my hand.
I quickly reach over to tear at the restraint on my other wrist, breath coming faster as my movements grow frantic.
They continue to argue, voices muffled but growing closer, and I know I only have a small window before Rhett decides to come in here, before he realizes I’m not as helpless as he thinks.
The second restraint falls away, and I move to my ankles, working as quickly as I can, barely feeling the pain now, only the pulse of adrenaline fueling me while my gaze is locked on the door.
“What was that?” Rhett’s voice suddenly sharpens, and I freeze.
I move slowly, every muscle tense, praying the table doesn’t creak. Rhett and Bianca’s voices continue their heated exchange, providing cover for my movements. I carefully swing my legs over the edge of the table.
I slide off the table, my bare feet touching the cold concrete floor.
The chill shoots up my legs, grounding me, a sharp reminder I need to stay alert, stay quiet.
Crouching low, I scan the dimly lit room, taking in every shadow, every possible escape route.
Shadows dance across the walls, cast by the single bulb overhead, throwing distorted shapes around the space like ghostly figures ready to leap at me.
My gaze darts frantically, searching for an exit, for any way out of this nightmare.
Slowly, I inch toward the door, my breath coming in shallow bursts. My pulse is in my throat, each beat reminding me how little time I have. Outside, Bianca’s voice rises sharply, her words slicing through the silence.
“Damn it, Rhett, you’re going to ruin everything!”
I freeze, my hand hovering inches from the doorknob. Did they hear me? Have I been discovered? Seconds stretch out painfully, ticking by like hours as I wait, poised to bolt, every muscle tense. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, so loud I worry it’ll betray me.
“Shh shh, shut up for a second,” Rhett snaps, his voice laced with irritation.
I don’t wait to hear more. With my heart hammering, I reach for the doorknob, forcing my hand to move slowly, carefully, to avoid any sound. The cool metal trembles beneath my palm, mirroring the tremors running through my body. I twist it with agonizing slowness, willing it not to squeak.
The door gives way, and I slip into the corridor, my body pressed low to the ground.
I peer around, taking in the narrow hallway lined with doors on both sides.
Each door looms like a silent sentinel, dark and foreboding.
The air is stale, tinged with the metallic bite of rust and something else—something faintly sweet, but rotten, like flowers decaying.
I stifle a shiver and inch forward, hoping to find a way out before anyone notices I’m gone.
The door next to the one I was held in stands slightly ajar, and I glance inside, seeing only shadows and the dim outline of shelves stacked with supplies. The corridor stretches on, empty for now, and I take a few cautious steps forward, each one measured and light as I hold my breath.
Then, the silence breaks—a soft shuffling of feet, the faint rustle of fabric. The noise stops me in my tracks, my heart leaping into my throat. Have they heard me? Are they coming?
I whip around, adrenaline surging, ready to bolt back into the room if I have to. No—the sound isn’t coming from beyond the corridor. It’s coming from behind me, inside the room next door.
I whirl around, pressing myself against the wall, and peer cautiously into the slightly open doorway.
Bianca steps out, her eyes focused downward as she rummages through an oversized handbag.
She doesn’t notice me; her attention is completely absorbed in whatever she’s looking for.
My breath catches as she pulls out a small compact mirror and a metal petri dish, and I freeze, every muscle tensing.
What on earth…? I stare, rooted in place, my mind racing.