Chapter 26
· Aubrey ·
Bianca’s heels click against the hard floor, drawing closer with each sharp step, rage evident on her face. I will my fingers to work frantically, to loosen the rough ropes, tugging and unwinding them as quickly as I can. Trying to break my other hand free of the restraints.
She stalks toward me, a predatory gleam in her dark eyes. Just a few more seconds.
I need to time this perfectly.
An abrupt ringing cuts through the tense silence. Bianca pauses mid-step, annoyance flashing across her features as she yanks her phone from her pocket. I freeze, hands still poised on the half-unraveled rope, maintaining the illusion of being restrained.
This is my chance. If I can just keep up this helpless charade a little longer…
Bianca jabs at her screen and raises the phone to her ear, half-turning away from me. “What?” she snaps impatiently.
I strain my ears, trying to make out the voice on the other end of the line. I instantly recognize the voice as Rhett’s. And hope surges through me at his words. “They raided the packhouse and killed Kyle. You need to get her out of there now!”
“What?” Bianca’s face contorts with shock and disbelief, her eyes widening. Her grip on the phone tightens, and for a moment, she seems to forget about my presence altogether. Panic flickers across her features, and I can sense her mind racing.
“King Soren is on his way to the docks; get her out. We still need her!” Rhett screams, making Bianca jerk the phone away from her ear.
My heart pounds with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
This is it—the break I’ve been waiting for.
I can’t afford to waste this opportunity; with Bianca’s attention diverted, now is my moment to act.
Help is coming, and if I can just free myself before she regains her focus, escape is within my grasp.
My muscles coil with tension, ready to spring into action.
She paces in agitation, her blonde hair swishing with the motion. “Fine,” she spits into the phone. “Where do I take her?”
“I don’t care, just get out of there now. I will call you when I’m on my way back for her.”
This may be my one shot at escape. I have to make it count. A whirlwind of emotions surges through me—fear, desperation, and a flicker of hope blending into a chaotic symphony. My breath hitches, the stakes of this moment amplifying all my senses.
Bianca ends the call and turns back to me. It’s now or never. She curses under her breath.
I rip my hands free of the remaining ropes and lunge to my feet, knocking the chair aside with a loud clatter.
Bianca whirls around, startled rage contorting her face.
Her eyes blaze with fury as she takes a menacing step toward me, her fists clenching at her sides.
“You think you can just run?” she sneers.
But I can see the hint of uncertainty flicker in her eyes.
I have the upper hand here and she is about to realize that.
Our eyes lock, a charged moment suspended in time. Her lips curl back in a vicious sneer.
Then she lunges.
I dodge Bianca’s attack at the last second. She stumbles off balance and reaches out, finding only air. I take advantage of her vulnerability, driving my shoulder into her back and propelling her forcefully into the wall with a sickening thud.
The building shudders at the impact, the ground unsteady as if it might give way beneath us. Bianca cries out in pain and anger, blood streaming from her nose as she turns to face me. I quickly swipe the blood from my face, clearing my vision just in time to meet her furious gaze.
“You’re in for it now.” She spit blood. “I’m going to tear you apart.” She struggles to regain her footing, her movements unsteady.
Our struggle continues as we circle each other, both panting and bruised. The sound of our heavy breathing fills the air as we size each other up. Bianca lunges forward with a snarl, aiming a low kick at my knees. I jump back just in time, narrowly avoiding her strike.
“Nice try,” I taunt, darting in with a swift jab that grazes her cheek.
Bianca hisses in response, lunging again with a series of quick strikes. I block and counter, our movements a blur of motion and intensity. The room feels too small as we clash, each blow landing with a resounding thud that echoes off the walls.
Her eyes almost glow in the dim light, hungry for revenge.
Her teeth grind together as she twists her body, avoiding my punch and countering with a swift hook to my jaw that sends me stumbling back.
The pain is harsh, still, I manage to keep standing, strength still left within me despite the wolfsbane.
Bianca gives no signs of slowing down; if anything she seems revitalized by landing an attack on me after being thwarted each time.
Despite the wolfsbane coursing through my veins, I knock her hand away and deliver a punch to her stomach. She doubles over with a groan, gasping for breath but she recovers almost instantly. Her retaliation comes in the form of an elbow strike heading straight for my face.
I stagger back from the force of it; blood bursts hot and slick across my cheekbone as pain explodes at one side of my face.
The stale scent of dust and blood clogs the air as Bianca barrels toward me with a burning rage in her eyes.
Despite my vision blurring from the wolfsbane poisoning, I see it all too clearly - a calculated attempt to land in one devastating punch that could turn the tides heavily against me.
My instincts are faster, more attuned than hers. My muscles coil tight like a spring before launching out with unnatural speed and strength born out of desperation. The floor vibrates under us, and even she looks worriedly at the floor.
Adrenaline surges through my veins, heightening every sense. I can smell the coppery tang of Bianca’s blood and hear the ragged sawing of her breath. Feel the power thrumming in my own limbs as adrenaline burns through the wolfsbane.
She comes at me again; clawed hands outstretched, a banshee shriek tearing from her throat. I block her wild swings, countering with a sharp jab to her windpipe—she chokes and gasps, staggering back.
I press forward, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks. Striking her again and again, grunts and cries piercing the air. A satisfying crunch as my foot connects with her ribs. Her agonized wail as my fist smashes into her jaw, snapping her head back.
Bianca staggers, arms flailing, eyes unfocused. I hammer one final blow to her temple with all my strength. She crumples to the floor.
I stand over her limp form, chest heaving, knuckles throbbing, and my breath ragged. A savage thrill shivers through me at the sight of her broken face and unconscious body.
As I take a closer look at her, I begin to feel a rush of guilt and regret. This wasn’t how I wanted things to end. I didn’t want to hurt Bianca like this.
It was either her or me. She had come at me with everything she had, fueled by her rage. Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away. I hate violence but sometimes it can’t be helped.
I turn away from Bianca and make my way to the door of the shabby cabin. The wolfsbane is still coursing through my veins, making every step feel heavy and labored.
Despite the poison, I feel alive and invigorated from the adrenaline rush of the fight.
My senses are heightened, and everything around me feels more vivid.
There’s no time to savor my relief at my escape.
Rhett’s call means he is probably sending others to help Bianca at any moment.
I have to get out of here while I still can.
Heart pounding, I race for the door, desperate to escape this nightmarish prison. To get back to my family, my pack.
Back to Soren.
I burst out of the warehouse into the cool sun-filled air, gulping deep breaths to steady my racing heart.
The sudden openness feels almost dizzying after the suffocating confines inside; I clutch my knees and look around to find I am on one of the piers, huge ships docked along one side, and I stare out over the water before turning my gaze to the building I just escaped.
It’s only a single level, making me wonder where they moved me from as I peer over the side of the railing to see the water.
I can’t stay here. I run toward the end of the pier toward land.
However, the movement ahead snaps my attention forward. A familiar figure stands frozen several yards away, halted mid-stride.
Soren. My breath catches, my pulse stuttering. Relief and worry war within me at the sight of him. Part of me wants to rush into his arms, to be back in his embrace. Another part is unsure if I can bear to see hatred or disgust darken his eyes after everything I’ve done.
We stare at each other across the distance, the silence stretching taut between us. Soren’s expression is unreadable, and his posture is rigid and tall. Is he glad to see me? I don’t know anymore.
“Aubrey…” he says finally, my name emerging somewhere between a prayer and a question. My steps falter hearing him use my real name and not my sister’s.
He takes a step toward me, hand outstretched.
Longing and fear tangle in my throat. I want so badly to reach for him, yet I’m terrified of his rejection, his anger.
Damian stands behind him not far away as more cars screech into the parking lot around the docks.
I stagger forward, knowing I can’t run from him, not that I want to.
Soren advances another step when something urgent and almost desperate contorts his features. It sends confusion, skittering through me. Why does he look so afraid?
A thunderous crack shatters the air, at the same time I hear the door to the little cabin-looking thing I was kept in hit the wooden walls. Gunshot.