Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
As soon as the run was over, I was put back in my cell. I didn't fight it. Didn't even try. Time would get me out of there, not running off when I was surrounded by my father's entire pack. No, that was asking for disaster, and being locked up even more. The one thing I realised was that my father and the pack wanted me to be part of it. All the things he'd said were true, and I was sure he meant them. That didn't mean I accepted what he'd done and that my mother's death was just. Fuck no. I stood by my belief that he could have just knocked. I was sure as hell going to leave the first chance I got. His beliefs, though—the idea that he was reclaiming a son—I was certain he meant them. How he thought killing my mother would accomplish that, I didn’t understand. That was his twisted logic, not mine. The sincerity was there. So maybe I could use that. Play the part he needed me to play and have them let their guard down. Maybe.
But I was back in my cell, and I think I fell asleep almost immediately, despite not wanting to, and thinking I couldn't. My brain was working a million miles an hour. My panther had loved the run, the hunt. He'd thrived on the fact we had run with a pack of other panthers. It'd been like his dream to be there, and he'd loved it. But I fought that. No. I didn’t care how much my panther felt at home with them; my mother's life was never worth this.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
The darkness of my cell was shattered by a sudden jarring awakening. Disoriented, I blinked away the remnants of a fitful sleep. This kept happening. In sleep, I'd forget. I'd be safe. I'd go to places where I had Tia, where my mother was alive, where I wasn't locked in a cage and then I'd wake and it'd all crash down on top of me, reminding me of where I was.
The run, my father's words—they crashed over me, swirling in my mind. The deep ache in my muscles and the lingering wild scent of the forest clinging to my skin betrayed the harsh truth. It had happened. Every last fucked up moment of it.
I opened my eyes, my brain struggling to separate reality from delusion. How many times would I wake, half-expecting to hear my mother's footsteps in the next room or smell her coffee brewing? As the days bled into one another, my mind conjured up images of her going about her nights, same life, same routine. Tia materialised too, hurrying to classes, lounging at Spy Glass, hunched over a book in the library. Both of them living their lives outside, in the real world, while I rotted in the dark. My brain's desperate attempt to keep me tethered to sanity. But then, like a sadistic puppeteer, that same mind would yank the strings, bombarding me with flashes of reality, or worse--things it imagined.
I hauled myself up on the hard cot, my joints screaming in protest. The windowless hellhole warped time, stretching minutes into hours, days into an eternity. My body clock spun wildly, stripped of all natural cues, leaving me unmoored.
A tray of food—raw meat, fresh and ready—sat just inside the door. My stomach growled traitorously. The memory of my father's smug grin as he offered me a bite of the deer he'd caught flashed through my mind. I'd managed to turn away from him then, a small act of defiance in the face of his dominance.
As I forced down the meat—undoubtedly from my father’s kill—my mind raced. The euphoria of the run faded, leaving behind the cold brutality and my father's words. "Everywhere you turn, is pack."
I clenched my fists, feeling my nails digging into my palms. The sharp pain grounded me, a reminder that I wasn't broken. Not yet. Not ever.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the meat, a mix of revulsion and desperate hunger warring within me.
The first bite exploded across my tongue, rich and metallic. My panther purred in satisfaction, while my human side recoiled, feeling like we were giving in. I choked it down, hating the way my body craved it, hating the part of me that found comfort in this twisted offering.
As I ate, I strained my ears for any sound beyond my cell. The silence pressed in, broken only by my own ragged breathing and the wet sounds of my meal. But then, a shadow fell across me and I hadn't heard the door, so he must have been around the corner, waiting.
Rick. Fucking Rick.
"Rise and shine, princeling," he sneered, his voice grating on my nerves as he stared down at me.
I gripped the fork in my hand, imagining the savage satisfaction of driving it into his smug face, watching it pierce his eye. The metal felt cold and heavy in my grip, a tempting weapon.
Rick's scent wafted through the air, and I cursed myself. How had I not known? How had I fallen for that fucking trick? Everything about him had screamed human before, and now ... now I could smell the lie. The shifter scent clung to him, unmistakable and mocking.
"Fuck off," I spat, the words tasting like bile in my mouth.
He placed a hand on his chest in mock offence, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Oh, how quaint. Well, I can't fuck off. The alpha wants to see you. YOUR father wants to see you. He wanted to make sure you were awake."
My heart rate spiked, a toxic mixture of dread and defiance. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready for fight or flight. "Whatever he wants, I'm not interested."
There was something sadistic in the way he looked at me, a cruel glint in his eyes that matched the cloud of malice emanating from him. He was enjoying this, savouring every moment of seeing me caged. His emotions rolled off him, a sickening cocktail of glee and anticipation that made my stomach churn.
"He will break you down, you know that, right?" Rick taunted, his words dripping with venom. "He didn't get to be alpha just by looking pretty. No one does."
I pushed my tray aside, the metallic scrape against the floor grating on my nerves. Shuffling back to the bed, I stared at the opposite wall, my jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth might crack. I could have turned away from him completely, but that felt like cowardice. Instead, I chose silence. The more I said, I'd learnt, the more shit would pour from his mouth.
"I believe it's your birthday. Eighteen, right?" Rick's voice was sickeningly sweet, mocking.
My hidden fist clenched tighter, nails digging crescents into my palm. "Well, happy birthday to me. Unless your gift is to open that door, then I'm not interested."
"Oh, we do have a gift for you." He leant to one side, cupping his ear for effect as the door opened in the distance. "In fact, I believe your gift is heading right this way."
My panther sensed her before I saw her, and my insides roiled and soared at the same time. I sat up straighter, every nerve in my body on high alert. Tia came into view, standing beside Rick. My heart leapt to my throat, hope and fear warring within me.
"Tia ..." I breathed, rushing from my bed to the barred cage door. "Tia, are you okay? The baby?"
But there was something different about her, a glow I hadn't seen before, a smile that pulled those red lips I'd kissed so many times. It was wrong. All wrong. I took a tentative step back, my instincts screaming danger. "What's going on? Tia?"
Tia leant into Rick, pressing against his side with a familiarity that made my stomach churn. He obliged, looking like a cat that got the fucking cream, as he lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulder.
My panther lashed inside me, twisting and writhing. Everything, every fucking thing she'd ever said to me came crashing down. No. No ... fucking no. I balled my fists at my sides, trying desperately to keep my breathing in check, to put up shields so I wouldn't feel the suffocating emotions filling the room.
"Did you enjoy my mate, little prince?" Rick's voice dripped with venom. "She's got a nice pair of tits on her, right?"
But my eyes were locked on hers. I couldn't speak, wasn't sure I could even form words if I tried. I licked my dry lips, heaving in a ragged breath.
"It was all a lie," I finally managed
I heard my father's steps then. He came to stand beside Tia and Rick.
A low rumble started in my throat, and I had to swallow back my panther. He didn't understand, didn't get what this was. Oh, we knew, we figured it out pretty fucking quickly. But the animal inside me wanted blood, wanted retribution.
Tia stood there with a mask of indifference. Gone was the warmth, the vulnerability I thought I knew. In its place was a stranger wearing her face.
"We thought you might like a little reunion," my father said, his voice sickeningly casual. "I thought maybe it was about time you stopped worrying about your little girlfriend."
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. My mind refused to accept what it was seeing, what it knew to be true. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise—all lies. The memory of her in my arms, of the life we'd planned together, shattered, cutting me to the core.
"Come now, Raven," Rick taunted. "You didn't actually believe you could get a girl like this, did you?"
My father stepped forward, his voice softening. "I'm sorry we had to go to such lengths to get to you, Raven. I know this will be hard for you to swallow. But I also know it was the only way to get to you. Your mother had you locked down pretty tight."
"It was all a lie?" I lifted my gaze to my father, searching for any hint of remorse and finding none. "All of this? You ... you set me up?"
"I wanted to get close to you, Raven, to learn about you." He gestured to Tia. "Tia was wonderful, don't you think?"
The world around me blurred, sounds becoming muffled as if I were underwater. My legs gave out, and I stumbled back, collapsing onto the hard cot. The cell walls seemed to close in, suffocating me. A roar built in my chest, primal and raw. Before I could stop it, it tore from my throat, echoing off the concrete walls. My panther clawed at my insides, desperate to break free, to lash out, to make them feel even a fraction of the pain coursing through me.
"You bastards," I snarled, my voice barely recognisable, thick with rage and anguish. "You fucking bastards."
The pain in my chest was physical, a gaping wound where my heart was. Every memory, every moment I'd shared with Tia, was tainted now, poisoned by this revelation. I'd given her everything—my trust, my love, my future. And it had all been a lie, a carefully constructed trap to lure me in.
I met Tia's eyes one last time, searching for any hint of the girl I thought I knew. But there was nothing there. Just cold, calculated indifference.