Chapter 5
Mariah
Steam curled around me, softening the harsh edges of the copper tub.
I sank deeper into the water, letting the heat bite at my skin, willing it to scour away the stench of blood and sweat.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t shivering in the dark.
I wasn’t pressed against cold concrete trembling in fear of being taken as a guard’s boots echoed down the hall.
I was alone. In an honest to goodness hot bath! With soap and shampoo and clean water! I was in heaven.
My fingers drifted up, brushing over the bite at my shoulder. The flesh was tender, swollen, but more than that, it burned. Like something alive thrummed under the wound, pulsing with every beat of my heart.
I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath.
I hated him for it. For claiming me, for biting me, for tying me to him in a way I couldn’t undo. I hated that he’d made the choice for me. That he’d taken what little control I had left.
But I also couldn’t ignore the truth.
His bite had dragged me out of the madness. Out of the drug-fueled rage that would have ended with me dead on the floor, another nameless body for the guards to haul away. His bite had cut through the haze, anchoring me in a way I didn’t understand.
I should have been terrified. I should have been furious.
Instead, I just felt… lost.
I thought about Kendra. About Lia. The way my heart had nearly stopped when Varek said their names, when he told me they were alive, safe, and happy. They’d been marked too. They were wolf shifters now, with mates who loved them, who fought for them.
Now there was me.
I’d always imagined freedom as running far enough and fast enough that no one could catch me, but now there was no running. No escaping. I wasn’t human anymore and to top things off, I was bound to the silver-eyed commander in the next room.
My stomach twisted. What did that mean for me? For the girl who used to sneak into movie theaters with her best friends, who laughed at broken projectors and terrible flicks like it was the only magic left in the world? That girl felt like a ghost now, and I wasn’t sure I knew how to call her back.
A tear slid hotly down my cheek. I swiped it away angrily, curling tighter into the water.
Varek’s words echoed in my head: With you, maybe finally, we can make a difference.
I didn’t know if I believed him. I didn’t know if I could ever forgive him for what he’d done to me, but I couldn’t deny the way he looked at me, like I wasn’t just another female body in a cage.
Like I mattered.
The water lapped against my skin, warm and soothing. I let myself sink deeper, closing my eyes as the steam wrapped me up in a cloud of comfort and silence.
For the next several moments, I let myself feel everything: anger, fear, grief, and that small, dangerous spark of hope.
I dipped under the water, holding my breath until my lungs burned, until the heat pressed against me from all sides. When I surfaced, the grime slid from my hair in dark rivulets, streaking the water with the filth of blood and fear.
The bottles Varek had left sat on the rim of the tub. I picked one up, turning it in my hand. Shampoo. The label was faded, the cap cracked, but when I opened it and poured some into my palm, the scent rose up, soft and floral, almost achingly human. Not chemical, not antiseptic. Just clean.
I worked it through my hair, closing my eyes as the suds foamed and the steam thickened. I rinsed it out and then followed with the conditioner, combing through the tangles with my fingers, each pass pulling away a little more of the weight of captivity I hadn’t even realized I carried.
Then I scrubbed every inch of my skin with the bar of soap, dragging it over my arms and legs, across my chest and belly, over my back and shoulders.
The water turned cloudy from the dirt and blood, tinged pink and gray, as the last of it rinsed away.
I stayed like that for a long while, my chin resting on my knees, the water lapping around me.
For the first time in I didn’t know how long… I felt like myself. Or maybe a new version of myself. One who wasn’t covered in someone else’s blood.
I closed my eyes and let the warmth seep into my bones, tried to pretend the mark on my shoulder wasn’t thrumming, tried to pretend the world outside that little room didn’t exist.
Eventually, the water cooled, and I couldn’t avoid it anymore.
I sat up, wiping the steam from my face, pulled the plug, and reached for a pitcher on a small table next to the tub.
I filled it with clean, warm water, stood up, and poured it over my head, rinsing my hair clean.
I filled it two more times to make sure every bit of filth and blood and soap was gone from my body, then grabbed a folded towel from the shelf.
When I climbed out, clear water dripping in rivulets down my clean, softened skin, I caught sight of the hospital gown lying crumpled in the corner, torn, stained, and useless. A relic of the girl I’d been an hour ago.
I stared at it for a long moment, my jaw tight. Then I shook my head.
No. Not anymore.
I wrapped the towel around myself, tucking the edge tight against my chest, and straightened. My bare feet padded softly against the floor as I opened the bathroom door.
Without looking back, I walked out into his quarters.
He was waiting for me.
The moment I stepped out of the bathroom, towel clutched tight around me, his gaze lifted from the shadows of the room and locked onto mine.
He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He just stood there like a mountain of heat and muscle, steady and unshakable, as if he’d been waiting for me for a long time.
The air seemed to vibrate between us, humming. My pulse beat fast in my throat.
For once, I didn’t back away. I didn’t put my walls up.
I walked toward him.
Every step felt heavy, like I was carrying all the pieces of who I’d been—the girl in hiding, the girl who had screamed for Lia to run, the girl in the cells, the girl who’d clawed her way out of a rage she couldn’t control.
Now here I was, clean for the first time in forever, bare but for a towel, walking toward the wolf who had claimed me as his.
When I stopped in front of him, my voice came out quiet, filled with uncertainty. “What does it mean, Varek? To belong to each other? For me to be your mate?”
His jaw flexed, his eyes searching my face. For a long moment, he didn’t answer, and I thought maybe he wouldn’t. But then his voice came, deep and even.
“It means you’ll never stand alone again,” he told me. “It means when you fight, I fight. When you bleed, I bleed. When you laugh, when you smile, when you cry…” His lips curved faintly. “That’ll all be mine too.”
My chest tightened. I wanted to argue, to push back against the inevitability of it. But instead, my hand moved before I could stop it.
I reached for him.
His breath caught, for just a fraction of a second, as my fingers hovered uncertainly at his chest. Then he moved, catching my hand in his. His palm was warm, callused, holding mine like it belonged there. He tugged me forward, closing the last inch between us, and I didn’t resist.
His lips brushed mine, soft at first, almost hesitant, like he was giving me one last chance to turn away. My breath hitched, and I leaned in, closing the gap.
The kiss was gentle. Sweet. Just his lips on mine, grounding me in a way that scared me more than his claws or his teeth ever could. When he pulled back, he leaned down to rest his forehead against mine, his eyes burning into me.
“Tonight,” he murmured, his voice rough but steady, “I’m going to show you what it truly means to belong to me.”
A shiver rolled through me, heat kindling low in my belly.
His hand stayed wrapped around mine, thumb brushing slowly across my knuckles, as if he didn’t want to let go. He studied me, eyes burning brightly, and when he finally spoke, his voice was soft.
“You’re beautiful.”
Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I shook my head automatically. “I’m not. Not like this.” I tugged at the towel clutched around me, acutely aware of my damp hair clinging to my neck, the red scrapes and blue bruises still littering my skin from the fight. “I’m a mess.”
He caught my chin gently, tilting my face up toward his. “No.” His thumb traced the line of my cheek tenderly. “You’re not a mess. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you right here, standing before me in nothing more than a towel, courage etched all over your face.”
My throat closed, the words sticking there. He leaned in, his eyes moving over my face like he was memorizing me.
“These eyes,” he whispered. “Emerald green, sparkling like gemstones. They see straight through me, even when I wish they didn’t.”
His fingers slid lower, brushing my jaw, lingering against my lips. “This mouth. Brave enough to curse me, bold enough to speak truth when others would cower. I’d be a fool not to adore it.”
I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling faster beneath the towel, and still he went on.
“Your hands, callused but strong. Your legs, scarred but even stronger. Every inch of you is a miracle, Mariah. Do you understand that? You’ve survived what should have broken you, what breaks almost every other woman.
You’re here. And somehow…” He exhaled like the thought staggered him.
“You’re still untouched by them. Mostly unharmed.
I can’t explain how lucky I feel to have found you this way. ”
My eyes stung, tears threatening, but I blinked hard against them. No one had ever spoken about me or to me like this, not as a someone more than just a body, not as breeding stock. As me.
“You don’t have to say things like that,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You don’t have to pretend.”