Chapter 5

*A few days Later*

Bella's POV

Standing in the middle of the room, I allowed myself to drown into my thoughts. How much I wanted to disappear into the air and hide from these pairs of lustful eyes, staring intently at me. I clasped my fingers together, occasionally separating them to pull the gown down. It was of no use though. The gown stopped before my mid thighs and had a v-neck plunge line, exposing too much cleavage to the eyes of everyone in the room.

I was frequently shifting from one foot to another, feeling really uncomfortable at the eyes boring into my skin.

Trying to distract myself I ran my fingers on my hand just above my wrist. The scratch mark was slowly starting to heal up. I bit back a wince when my fingers glazed over the small deep wound. I remember the incident well, how can I forget?

The next day after I arrived at the pack, the fake scent had already washed off. The guard must've forgotten about the stealer curse and barged into the room, probably to pass some instructions or bring me out of that hell hole room.

As expected, under the influence of the stealer powers he rushed to me, pulling me from the ground, hitting me against the wall. It was like he had gone feral, the power of the curse messing with his head.

Thankfully they were able to stop him, though it took so much time and a little fight to pull him off me.

In the fight of trying to pull him off me, I got injured when his claws dig deep into my hands.

I jerked back to reality when I felt a rough manly hand glaze over her cheek. I looked down at my feet when the strange man said something to Damien in Russian which I barely understood, (she's beautiful). He held some strands of my hair and took it to his nose, sniffing lightly.

My body cringed when his hands went over my shoulder to my back, running over it gently to stop at my waist.

"(In russian) I know right. I tell you, Damien never fails to bring good things home." Noah stood up from his chair, sitting on the edge of the table with a cup filled with tequila in his hand.

"And this is a really nice proof." He replied in Russian, his lips stretched into a smirk.

My breath hitched as his hands slowly slid to the top of my back before his palm slowly gripped my buttocks. I let out a heavy breath, trying to suppress the anger already swelling in me.

No, no, no way.

He had no right to touch me this way. I closed her eyes, breathing heavily as my nose flared in anger.

"No one would feel pity for you, so I advise you learn to fucking mind your business and do as they say."

*You're not just a stealer Bella, you're now a slave.*

My father's words reminisced in my head, immediately giving a quick reminder that whatever actions I try to take may have real bad repercussions.

But when his hand went around to my stomach, slowly striding up to my breasts, I grabbed his palm and squeezed it tightly, roughly pushing it away.

"Oh she's feisty!" He laughed, his ugly gap teeth showing. The fact that I didn't understand what he was saying angered me the most.

When he raised his hands to touch my face, I slapped it away and glared at him, ignoring the voice in my head, warning me to stop.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a small relieved sigh when he walked away from me, heading back to the table. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Damien staring coldly at me, his gaze bored into my skin.

I stared down at my fingers again, trying as much as possible to ignore his inconvenient stares.

I stood there for about an hour, listening to them conversing in Russian, occasionally switching to English. Some times I noticed they were talking about me when they all stared at me in silence for a few seconds.

My heart skipped a beat when I heard them mention a certain amount of dollars while staring at me Were they pricing me now?

I glanced at a strange man sitting when I heard him say in English. "I like her."

What the fuck were they talking about?

I glanced at Damien from the corner of my eyes, though I did not understand what they were saying I could sense he was disagreeing with whatever they were saying.

"She's of no use Damien. So what's the point of keeping locked up everyday. This is beneficial, don't act dumb." My brows rose in confusion, when Noah suddenly spoke, slamming his fist on the table angrily.

Damien being a man of less words, relaxed back on the chair, keeping an intense gaze on me. "We'll talk about this later. I need to think."

Think about what?

I squeezed her fingers together, keeping my eyes down, totally confused and a little curious. A feeling of relief washed over me when they all stood, exchanging handshakes, which I understood was a conclusion of whatever they were talking about.

The strange man picked up his bag and stared at me one last time before exiting the room.

"Leave."

I walked out of the room at the order, accompanied by a guard.

*

I stare up at the small window at the corner of the room, my eyes fixed on the bright light coming from it not minding the effect of it on my eyes.

I spent six nights here already and it seems nothing is happening. No one came to me except the man who brings food just once everyday.

A few clothes were brought to me the next morning after I was brought here. Then nothing. I was left alone to just stare at the empty dark room.

I groaned, placing my hand over my stomach when it growled, reminding me of how hungry I was.

Why did he bring me here in the first place if he was just going to leave me locked all through. He should've just left me at my pack, I'm still better off with my family, though they hate me so much but would never starve me.

I try to take my eyes away from the window and listen to the voice telling the not to try anything stupid, instead ignore and stop the humorous idea forming in my head.

But I couldn't. Just like every other day I knew the exact moment my mate left the mansion. He was probably gone out for some business and the pack house was almost empty, since most of the guards left with him.

I stood up from the bed and moved to the door, placing my ear on it, to listen to any sound. I moved away from the door, rolling my palm into a fist when I heard nothing. The entire house was silent.

I swallowed a heavy lump down my throat and moved to the corner of the room, standing on my toes to look outside the window. I wasn't so tall so it was hard trying to look outside.

This was the only opportunity for me to escape. The pack house was close to the woods. I could run through it and probably meet myself in another city and maybe another pack with less scary hateful people.

Moving around the room I went to my duffel bag at the corner of the room and picked up my fake scent bottle, spraying it around my body, keeping the small body in the side pocket of the floral gown I wore.

I grabbed the chair at the corner of the room and drew it to the window, climbing it. Taking one last look at the room, I opened the window climbing out of it.

I swallowed back a wince when I landed on the ground, my ankle turning the wrong direction. Placing my hand over my mouth as sharp pain tore in my leg. I heaved out a heavy breath and closed my eyes as tears began brimming in my eyes at the pain.

Knowing I had less time I moved toward the garden, making sure to be silent as I could. The pack house was fenceless and surrounded by trees, the woods not so far away.

Stopping at the garden I tried to reconsider my actions. I know certainly what this man is capable of, he would do mostly the unexpected if he ever finds me. He bought me, he owns me. But I refuse to be subject to his will. I will run.

With no further thought I took into the woods, running as fast as I could. Repeated wince tore from my throat, as I ran through the thick bush and trees, feeling unbearable pain in my leg.

Running was really difficult, it felt like I was going round in circles. The unbearable pain in my ankle made it even worse. I stopped and bent on my knees, trying to breathe as it felt as though all air had cut out from my lungs. I removed my sandals from my leg, kicking them. They were torn already and were of no use. There were a lot of cuts on my legs already, from tripping too much.

For a moment, I felt like giving up, it was like there was no exit. Fuck! It felt like a game.

I sprang up when a familiar wheeze hit my nose. My mate. He was near.

My heart skipped a beat when I heard several footsteps running towards me. Shit! They found out.

Wasting no time I took to my heels immediately, they were really close and would catch up on me very soon. My lungs were dry, there was single air left in my throat but I kept running, ignoring the pain smearing through my legs. My mind was too focused on escaping. I tripped, wincing as I felt a deep cut on my legs, but still didn't stop. My vision was getting blurry as my heart thumped heavily against my chest, my lungs literally crying for a little bit of oxygen but that was far from my mind.

Unexpectedly, I yelped when I felt paws push me to the ground, a black wolf overtaking me. It turned to me, snarling angrily.

I turned around ready to keep running but stopped when I realized I was surrounded. But he wasn't here, my mate. I could feel he was getting close, but this wolf won't subject me.

Breathing heavily, I looked down at the floor. I felt thirsty and my eyes and limbs were heavy, a little bit of hopelessly smearing through me.

I groaned, feeling a familiar tingle in my head, a tingle I was warned to avoid. I looked through the corner of my eyes when I heard growls around me, hungry looking wolves, striding to me slowly like predators.

They wanted to play huh? Then we would play. I shut my eyes tight, finally giving in to that familiar abominable tingle thriving for survival.