Chapter 4

Ronika

It was two days and a night of constant sobbing and mourning. My will was frail, the trust and love for my father broken, replaced by red hot vengeance. This pain of loss, coupled with betrayal, took over a portion of my mind. Like an invisible flame on my skin, it burned me. It caused an eruption of questions, a battle between good memories of my mother and the recurring image of her last seconds.

I hardly discerned the sound of the door to my new room as it was pushed open. I could hear it creak from afar, but my eyes remained engaged and fixed on the flower garden. It was full of different types of glorious flowers that pleased my mind aesthetically. One stood out, though—orange lilies, my mother's favourite. It was like everything I saw reminded me of her.

"You didn't touch your food." That voice, bothersome, low, and calculated, filled the quiet room. It made my stomach contents churn in disgust as it took me back to my pack. The horrible images of my very own family being slaughtered mercilessly. The teary eyes of my beloved mother as death sucked her in. I drew in a deep breath, then let my upper teeth sink into my lower lip to stop me from talking.

"Ronika," Quinlan called. I raised my hand to stop him from talking, my back still facing him. He had absolutely no right to even say my name. I shut my eyes momentarily, willing myself to calm down. Everything in my system turned sour the moment he walked in.

"I know how you feel after seeing your mot—" Nonchalant, his voice was flat; there was no single emotion. He was a monster after all—a sadistic beast that relished in other werewolves' pain.

"Don't you dare finish that statement." I turned fast, my dilated pupils zeroing in on his form. I didn't have time to admire or comment on his looks because he looked nothing like his personality.

"I know you are hur—"

"Shut up!" I waved my hands in the air.

"What do you know about loss, you murderer?" I screamed at him, my thoughts running wild.

"Is your mother dead?" He remained silent, his eyes fixed on me, his jaw ticking, and his full lips set in a firm, thin line. It was the first time I had actually looked at his face since the attack, and goddess was he just hot to look at. I had to shake my head to get back to reality as I matched towards him, chest pushed forward.

"She was not killed in front of you like mine. Your mother did not look at you with fearful, teary eyes as a knife sliced through her throat. Don't tell me you know how I am feeling, monster!" I was now inches from him, forcefully poking his chest with my index finger.

"I didn't kill her," he said in a bored tone, pocketing his hands as if what I was saying didn't matter at all.

"Your warrior killed her at your command. She is dead because of you!" My eyes were full of the salty liquid again, the acidity burning and fighting for release.

"Not at my command," he denied.

"You could have stopped him," my voice lowered, with it a realisation that I was never going to see my mummy again. He just stood there, an eyebrow raised at me.

"But you didn't, and as if that wasn't enough, you had to forcefully take me away from the only place I have ever called home." The first tear fell, flowing all the way down my left cheek.

Another one followed, then another, and soon I could no longer hold them back. "Her dea..death rendered me weak; my systems were driven into overdrive; I fainted. And even so, you carried my unconscious body into your vehicle." I drew air audibly through my nose to stop it from running.

He took a step, his body almost touching mine, making me crane my neck to look at him. "I did not issue any command to have her killed; the warrior wasn't even aware she was the luna before he sliced her throat," he explained in a flat voice.

"Liar, you are a devil, a monster, driven by nothing but selfishness and power." I furiously wiped my tears messily with the back of my hands.

"Enough," he snarled.

"If I were the alpha, you'd be down on your knees right now, begging for your life." His statement left me puzzled. He was the alpha, so what was he talking about, or what was I missing?

He suddenly grasped my wrists in a tight grip so fast that I didn't see it coming. "Let me go!" I attempted to pull myself, but the male was just too strong.

"I will, as soon as I lock you in the bathroom. You smell awful; I assume you haven't taken a bath since you came here." He had the audacity to smirk after I stopped struggling.

"You bastard." My upper lip lifted, forming a scowl.

"That won't stop me from dragging you to the bathroom." He only smiled back, infuriating me. Oh, how things had taken a different turn in seconds! Moments ago, I was crying my heart out, and now I was being dragged to take a shower. What in the world was wrong with the man?

"I won't bathe even if you hold a gun to my head." I raised my head high, determined to put a stop to his stupidity. To remain strong and not crumble totally like he expected me to.

He chuckled in plain mockery. "It's funny how you think you can decide that. You are my servant, Ronika, from the moment you stepped foot in this pack. I expect you to start serving me soon, and you won't do it while you're this disgusting. I like my things handled with cleanliness."

"I won't serve you; do your worst." I stood my ground.

"Either you walk or I will carry you," he threatened, but I had bigger things to worry about; hygiene was nowhere on that list.

"Carrying you, it is," he said. As fast as lightning, one strong venous arm was on my back, the other under my legs, as he carried me.

"Put me down, you monster!" I pounded on his back, every attempt to throw my legs up failing. I caught a glimpse of his very thick neck with built-up muscles that extended to his spartan shoulders. Before my eyes could betray me and wander off further, he dropped me forcefully, my ass coming into contact with the marble floor.

I could see him stepping forward as I pushed myself up inside the shower. It wasn't until the shower handle moved, followed by the sound of rushing water, that I realised what he had done.

"What the hell?" I screeched when the first drops of the cold water came into contact with my head, which had a layer of unkempt blonde hair.

"You have ten minutes to get it done. Don't make me punish you." I couldn't see him with my eyes closed to prevent water from getting inside. I was already soaked by the time the temperature turned warm. I could feel the robe clinging to my body like a second skin as my skin began enjoying the steam. As the drops came into contact with the tiles, I gave in, and I knew deep down that the shower was much needed.

"Make haste; your duties begin a few minutes from now." He didn't give me time to question him about what he meant by the alpha. He was the alpha, so what was he on about?

"I will...I uum.. I will send someone with instructions on where to begin." The male stuttered before exiting and closing the door behind him. When I opened my eyes, I looked at my chest; the wet cloth left nothing for imagination. It outlined my boobs, with the hard buds almost breaking free from the confines of the robe. There was no doubt that my chest had prompted the man to step out of the shower.

A certain feeling began taking over from the inside. I felt beneath his cold exterior that he was a good person, and that is when I remembered what his nana had told me. Could she have been right? What if Quinlan was just as victimised as I was?