2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Nyx
Several hours pass before I hear the distinct sound of approaching footsteps again.
This time, I know they are coming before the door at the top of the stairs opens. When the guy appears again, I notice that he's not alone. He's accompanied by an older man and woman, the three of them wasting no time to descend the stairs and stand in front of me.
I glare at them all one by one, memorizing all their features as best as possible. When I get out of here, I want to remember who took me, so that I can watch their demise once my alphas get their hands on them.
When my eyes reach the woman, I immediately sense something different about her. There's a weird energy radiating off her sunken features, little white strands sprinkled in once jet-black hair. She's not dressed casually like the others either—wearing a purple floor-length maxi dress, accessorized with chunky jewelry and gemstones.
And judging by her look of disgust, not just toward me but the men too, she's not one of us.
"You're a witch," I point out, voicing my thoughts.
She raises an eyebrow at my statement but does nothing to deny it. When the silence remains, I turn my attention to the other newcomer, quickly realizing that there's nothing new about him.
Instantly, my blood runs cold—but it's not with fear. I'm angry, sending death glares at him as I take in his fading red hair.
He realizes my attention is on him and seems amused at my reaction.
"You remember," he says fondly.
Of course I remember him. He's the asshole that knocked me out with the rock. His face was the last thing I saw before I blacked out, as he mentioned his pack killing Maverick.
"Fuck you," I shoot back.
"Still dramatic," he murmurs, rolling his eyes. "If only you had listened."
"And come willingly?" I scoff. "No, thanks."
Giving me a quick cold smile, he looks at the younger man. "Help me lift her. Marie will ensure that she's unable to shift."
My eyes dart back to the woman, wondering why a witch would waste her time helping a pack.
When I met Lydiana, she made it perfectly clear of her distaste for wolves. Besides the lone wolf that she lived with, she had no desire to even be near any wolves—let alone the alphas. The only reason she even allowed me to meet with her was because of a stupid premonition.
But this witch, even though she appears to share Lydiana's tastes, doesn't look to be under duress. If she's able to block my ability to shift or mind link with her magic and the moonstones, she could easily free herself from any restraints that the wolves may have.
So, why is she involved?
My thoughts are cut-off as I'm suddenly hoisted off the ground, the two males grabbing an arm each as they yank me across the floor. There's little I can do to resist since my arms and legs are still bound together. I'm at risk of falling face-first flat on the ground if these two let me go.
They carry me up the stairs with ease, my feet dangling with the occasional drag as we exit the basement.
Even though there were lights in the basement, it still takes me a few seconds to adjust to the burning sunshine that blinds me the moment we step outside the door. Blinking rapidly, I notice that the house we are in is painted in the same color scheme as downstairs—large splashes of white and gray, with black doors and frames as an offset.
It's oddly tidy too. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but art portraits, low-hanging crystal chandeliers, and doilies weren't it.
I hate the fact that these savages clearly have some level of respect and structure. It would have been easier seeing a broken home and ruins of violence—something to help me distinguish from the fact that they appear humane.
To see a tidy residence, decked out in furnishings and items of value, that makes it that much sadder. Normal packs, not barbarians, fighting for survival.
If they weren't squeezing the fuck out of my arms and leaving finger shaped bruises, I'd almost pity them.
We round a corner, entering a large dining room, and I'm surprised to see the table is full. Every chair is occupied at the twelve-seater set; paperwork laid in front of them as they have some kind of meeting. They all glance over when we enter, not alarmed in the slightest that they have a captured prisoner, bound by large chains, being dragged by two men and a random witch.
"Ezra, we're just about to wrap up the meeting. Which one is this?" a man asks, standing up from his chair at the end of the oval table. His green eyes gaze over me with curiosity.
Next to me, the older man speaks.
"The one from the Shadow Pack," he answers.
"I have a name, you know," I snap at them, pissed off that I'm being referred to as this one.
A few eyebrows raise at the table at my outburst, but the man on his feet doesn't appear fazed. "Ah, yes. From Daxton's pack. She's the one with dual mates, correct?"
The mere mention of my alpha and mates sends a rush of anger through me.
"Just you wait until Alpha Daxton gets his hands on you!" I shout. "The threat of vanishing will be the least of your problems!"
I was wrong. It's not the fact that their house looks homely and loved, or the fact that they are a normal pack. It's the fact that they know so much information about me—and they still chose to take me.
I'm not only somebody's mate—well, two of them— but a member of a pack family, a daughter. You'd think that humanizing me would make it harder, but they don't care at all. They know exactly what they are doing and have no remorse.
That is the absolute worst.
What kind of savages are they?
"She's feisty," the man with green eyes and blonde hair says, still on his feet. There's nothing sinister or concerning about his comment—it's a simple observation, similar to if he was pointing out that I have black hair.
"Yep—whole lot of attitude," the younger man to my right adds with a sigh. "She told Ezra here to fuck off."
A few people around the table murmur with amusement. I throw my weight around to try to get free—either the chains snapping or the men letting me go—but nothing budges.
"Do you feel left out?" I growl, swinging my head to look at him. "Here— fuck you too ."
His jaw tightens, the bored persona finally exiting the building as he shoots a death glare at me. "Shut your mouth, you little—"
"James," the man at the table chimes in, a warning to his tone. "That's not how we treat guests."
Now, it's my turn to be amused. I laugh dryly, eyes narrowing on him. "A guest? Really? This isn't a damn hotel. Last I checked, you don't chain your guests and strip their wolf abilities."
The older man looks at me curiously, eyes sparkling as he takes a moment to respond. Sitting back down, he gestures to a door on the other side of the room. "Take her to the cells for now. But I suspect Alpha Cade will be interested in meeting her soon. He should be back shortly."
"I have no damn interest in meeting your wrinkly, old alpha," I shoot back, letting out a yelp as they start to drag me toward the door and my feet catch on the rug beneath me. I stumble, hissing as I nearly lose my shoe. "Let me go!"
"Shut up," the younger one, James, whispers under his breath.
Oh, how I'd love to rip him to shreds. There's so much white in here that some color is needed—personally, I think red would look good.
I have to focus on not tripping when they don't bother to lift my feet any higher, my insult lost on the tip of my tongue.
We move into the next room, which appears to be the front entrance. There's a grand staircase leading up to a second floor, and it's eerily clean. Everything is white, which practically glows, and I can see my reflection on the marble floors.
Crossing the threshold, we come face to face with a door on the side of the staircase, and when they open it, more steps appear. My mortality crisis returns as we head down the spiraling metal stairs, my knees unable to bend. I'm tempted to flail around, to throw them down the steps with me, but as painful and delightful as the idea sounds, I decide to resist for now.
If it comes down to it, I have no issue ending my life. As morbid as it sounds, it's the better option. If they start taking advantage of me, I'd rather die. It would still be painful for Lex, and Maverick, but at least they would probably survive. The problem with life is that death is a sure thing. Unfortunately, it's inevitable that someone will die before their mate. Horrible as it seems, a natural end is better than a forced severance of the mate bond.
I'm not sure why I decide against the stairs idea. So far, they haven't given me any comfort. It's clear that I am a prisoner, and they don't have good intentions. But something stops me, and before I can figure out what, we're at the bottom of the steps.
My eyes glance around, perplexed that this room is a stark contrast to all the white upstairs. Black and shades of brown, cells line either side of the room, large bars preventing escape.
I also realize that the witch hasn't followed us down here, but besides me, there doesn't appear to be a reason why she should. Not only are moonstones placed everywhere—on the ground, the walls, in cells—but it's empty.
I thought for sure the cells would be full of stolen wolves—scared females being subjected to torture. Especially, since they asked which one I was, implying there were more of us. If that's the case, where are they ?
The man, who I now know is Ezra, lets go of my arm as he opens a cell door with a metal key. Standing back, he motions for James to step forward, who literally throws me into the cell.
My body smashes into the ground, barely missing the wall as pain shoots through me. My legs scrape on the cold concrete beneath me as the chains push into my body with the force of my drop. A yelp and small cry manage to find their way out of my mouth, unable to hide the pain.
"Really?" Ezra asks James. "Was that necessary?" Nothing about his tone indicates that he cares either way, but James swings his head in my direction, giving a little shrug.
"I slipped," he offers poorly. "My bad."
Pushing myself onto my ass, I breathe a sigh of relief when it eases some of the pain and stops the chains from digging into my body.
"Just you wait," I threaten again, shaking my head. "They're going to find me any second now. And when I'm out of these damn chains, I'm going to kick your ass."
James smiles softly. "Big promises from a tiny wolf. But what makes you think they are going to save you? They couldn't even stop us on their own land, let alone facing our entire pack in our territory."
"Enough," Ezra interjects, grabbing James' shoulders and pushing him toward the stairs. "Alpha Cade will handle it."
The two of them vanish out of sight, the sound of the door closing at the top of the stairs behind them.
I hate to admit it but he's right. They are big promises. But even though I mean them, they also raise a good point.
I'm no longer on my own land. How many of them are in this pack? Guarding their boundaries?
Even if my packs find me, people are going to die.
They aren't going to let me go willingly, which means a war will break out.
And in every war, there's a certainty of death.