Chapter 1
My flesh burns as the icy sting of water seeps into the open wounds on my back. The sensation is as familiar as the weight of a sword on a battlefield, an intimate agony, raw and scarred by years of resistance. Zander perches behind me, rag in hand, as he cleans the wounds he’s inflicted. I refuse to recoil. To flinch would be to hand him my fear on a silver platter. I won’t let him have that.
His hands move with calculated gentleness as he smooths ointment over my skin. A lie disguised as tenderness. Every word from Zander’s lips, every action he takes, is a thread in the tapestry of his deception. His fingers linger on the ribbons of torn flesh, tracing the brutal legacy of his ‘discipline.’ The only friend I had in this place took a risk for me, and I failed him. The whip wasn’t just for my defiance. It was for his too. Zander made sure I felt the weight of both. I refused to cry out during his punishment. The only reason he stopped was because he needs me to be alive. A grim mercy in this hellish existence.
The bed shifts as Zander rises. Though I can’t hear the movement, the subtle vibrations as he moves off the mattress are unmistakable. I am painfully aware of his every movement, a cruel gift of hyperawareness that heightens the unbearable. Knowing what is to come feels like a curse rather than a blessing. I observe every twitch of his finger, every shift in his gaze, watching for subtle signs of his anger or his wants.
He walks to the door, retrieving a dark wooden box from one of his subordinates outside. My stomach churns at the sight of it. The scorched wood, the grotesque carvings of wolves cannibalizing their kin. It’s a harbinger of pain. The poison inside is a torment I know all too well.
Instinctively, I retreat. The silver collar around my neck yanks taut, burning hot against my skin. Zander’s predatory gaze pins me against the wall. His gray eyes glint like steel, cold and unyielding, but there’s tension in the set of his jaw that betrays a deeper struggle. His face is harsh, with sharp cheekbones and a scar that slices down his left cheek, a souvenir of my last act of defiance. He slicks back his dark hair, a vain attempt to tame the wildness that flickers beneath his polished exterior.
Searching the room for a weapon is hopeless. Everything has been stripped away since my last escape attempt. My friend tried to help me. His kindness had been a risk, and I squandered it. If he was alive—and I pray he was—I owe it to him to make the next opportunity count. I wouldn’t act rashly again. I wouldn’t be caught unprepared. This time, I’d escape.
Zander had the windows boarded shut, the furniture sparse save for a bed with chains affixed to the posts, an old table scared and warped, and two wooden chairs. I toy with the idea of smashing a chair over his head. It’s a fleeting fantasy, and I know better than to act on it.
He places the box on the wooden table, its surface bearing deep grooves from countless encounters with claws or blades. He flips it open to reveal a syringe filled with a viscous purple liquid resembling oil more than poison. His hand falters, just slightly, as he uncaps the syringe. A moment of hesitation. Is it regret? Or doubt? Whatever it is, I filed it away. Every crack in his armor would eventually give me a way out. Zander turns towards me. His lips curl into a chilling smile, but something about it feels off, like a mask slipping for a heartbeat, revealing something raw underneath. Dread settles in my gut, cold and unyielding.
“Lila,” he says, his lips twisting into a frown of false regret. “I’m sorry for hurting you.” He steps closer, his hand brushing my cheek in a parody of affection. “But you must understand, there are rules, and you need to obey them. Everyone in this pack follows my rules.”
His words drip with venom, sweeten just enough to sting. They hang in the air, thick and suffocating, like smoke from a dying fire. “You know I love you. Everything I do is to keep you safe. The men under my command can be real monsters. They can’t control themselves like I do. That’s why I must keep you here, why you mustn’t look at them or talk to them. They’d hurt you, Lila.”
Zander’s attention shifts to the syringe in his hand. “I’ve spared the Rogue,” he says, his eyes shifting to a gentleness. “Do you see? I’m not a monster, Lila. But his fate depends on you. Obedience would be wise. Accept me as your mate and end this.”
My friend’s words swam in my mind. “You deserve more than this.” He’d said as he slipped me food. Was he alive as Zander said? Or was Zander lying again, and he had already silenced him?
His lies are poison in themselves, wrapping around my will like chains. My friend wasn’t alive. Zander had already silenced him, snuffing out the only light I’d known in years. His kindness wasn’t just a scar, it was a reminder of what I’d lost. What I failed to protect. Zander didn’t want a mate. He wants a puppet. Keeping me weak, suppressing my wolf, it makes it easier for him to control me. His gaze returns to me, waiting for an answer that he knows I will not give him. I will never give him.
I extend my arm, defiance burning brighter than the pain etched into my skin. The scars on my arm glow faintly in the firelight, each one a testament to my defiance. My green eyes lock onto Zander’s, blazing with fury, daring him to see the part of me he can never break. My answer is clear. I will never submit.
Zander’s sigh brushes against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. His grip on my arm tightens, the facade of gentleness crumbling as his expression twists suddenly, wild, almost desperate before smoothing back into cold control. His hand falters again for a heartbeat, as if he hesitates to push the needle deeper. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A sliver of doubt. A weakness. The venom courses through my veins, setting every nerve aflame. I bite down on my tongue, choking back the scream that claws its way up my throat.
My gaze locks onto the jagged scar running down his face, a memento of my defiance. It’s a small victory in a war I’ve yet to win. The venom burns through me, relentlessly. My limbs grow heavy, and my vision fractures. The stone wall scrapes my torn skin as I slump to the floor. Zander catches me, his touch is an insult I’m too weak to resist.
He carries me to the bed, laying me down as if I’m something precious. The leather pouch around his neck sways, the pungent scent of wolfsbane twists my gut. Dredging up memories best left buried. Memories of that damn pouch swinging before my face, touching my skin, burning me from the inside. My stomach churns as bail creeps up my throat, threatening to spill over.
“Ah, my precious Lila,” Zander says, his gaze roaming over me like an unwanted caress. Another violation I must endure. “You drive my wolf mad, Lila. He claws at my mind, desperate to have you.”
His fingers trace the scars on my neck. “He tells me to take you, to mark you as many times as needed to make you mine.” Zander’s voice drops to a growl, chest vibrating into me as his gray eyes darken. “But I’m stronger than him. You make me stronger, Lila.” His lips twist into something almost tender. “One day, you’ll understand why.” He taps the leather pouch that hangs loosely around his neck like a cursed talisman. “The poison doesn’t only torment you. We will be tormented together, as mates.”
A grin slithers across his face as he gathers a handful of my copper hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers like sand. He brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply as if savoring a rare perfume. His eyes flash crimson, his wolf surfacing for a moment. “If only you’d claim me, as I want to claim you. Then you could stand by my side. We could take down the other packs until ours was the only one left. I can give you everything you desire, everything you want or need.”
His words feel like a trap. Baited with false promises of power and freedom. I won’t bite.
Zander’s grin widens, his touch growing bolder, pawing at me like a starved animal. “You are mine, Lila. You will be my mate.” The words slither through the air, wrapping around me like a curse.
His hand closes around my throat, his breath hot and rancid against my skin. I fight the rising bile in my throat, grateful that my dull senses spare me the worst of his wolf’s scent. His growl vibrates through me, a cruel reminder of the predator I’m trapped with.
At last, he pulls away, his control is weak despite his confidence. “Tonight,” he says, his voice a mix of desire and restraint. “But not now.”
As though trying to don the mask of a loving mate, he drapes a thin blanket over me and presses a gentle kiss onto my forehead. Retrieving the syringe, he places it back in the box and casts one last look at me before closing the door and locking it behind him.
The moment he’s gone, I release a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My body remains paralyzed, but my mind races. The image of my friend and his kind eyes flash before me. His kindness had been a fleeting light in this darkness, and I’d let it burn out. If he is gone, it was my fault as much as Zander’s. I owed it to him. To both of us, to make sure this wasn’t the end.
