Chapter 4

RIVER BROWN

The darkness hovers around them like a plague brought upon by the fury of the Moon Goddess.

The scowls on their faces are the same ones I have seen on bandits, rogues and everything monsters consist of. Their eyes, dark, chocolate and blue are so menacing that the more I stare into them the more my bones rattle with fear.

It’s been one week in the cursed lands.

One week confined to their apartment.

One week of being alone with Greta who’s done nothing but been sweet to me.

I don’t hate her.

But I hate them.

I hate Connor because he strangled me. He hurt me; I still have nightmares ever since he choked the life out of me.

I hate Shane because deep down I know he doesn’t like me. That he was the first one to order his brothers to kill me.

I also hate him because that night in that car, his hands held my waist like I was fragile glass that would snap without him. Like I was important, despite being rejected by Landon.

And Neo? I hate his blue eyes; I hate that warm smile he gave me before he let Connor strangle me. I hate him because I half expected he would have shown up by now and said sorry and released me from this jail they call a home.

The dark ink on the canvas, the precise way in which the brothers are painted, the way their eyes are tormenting me even from a mere painting has me holding back a sob.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Release me from this torment, Goddess.

They are not my mates. They are not my mates. Not my mates…not-

“You’re not happy”, Greta appears from the left side of the hallway holding a glass of freshly squeezed mango juice.

She’s been doing that since I refused to drink juice from the carton in the fridge. In Brackenridge, we made everything from scratch.

The betas provided us with fruits, vegetables and meat. Canned foods weren’t allowed in Brackenridge or juice in cartons either.

Making things from scratch was the right way. The Moon Goddess gave us good harvest so that we could feed ourselves with foods from the earth not from machines or chemical added foods.

I take the glass from her hands uttering a thank you before I gulp it down.

“I don’t like it here”, I say.

“You don’t like them either”, Greta’s chuckles fill the empty hallway and I nod along with her laughter because everything up to this point has been insane.

“I understand where you are coming from but you’ve gotta give them a chance, honey”

The juice almost chokes me. Give them a chance?

“They abandoned me! M—mates don’t…don’t do that. I’m not entertaining this silly idea of them being my mates but if they were…they aren’t supposed to treat me like this. Like I’m…like I’m worthless”

Like I’m something to be discarded so easily the way Landon did to me.

Like I’m just another being not worthy of love, of respect, of anything!

“You wouldn’t be here if you were worthless, River. Goddess, is that what you think? That you are worthless to them? They brought you here because it’s the safest place in New Hawk. If you look outside, there are five omegas charged to protect you. The brothers are—worried about you and maybe a little bit scared”

“Scared of me? I’m scared of them! They are rogues. They are- “

Killers.

“Men. They are alphas who’ve never had a weak spot. They are also men who’ve been handed a gift and are scared to open it. You know what? This foolishness has gone on long enough.

You are going to visit them. Don’t give me that face, I know you want to yell in their faces and ask them questions about everything and I’m giving you the opportunity, River. I want to see your smile. I want to see you happy”

The only smile you’ll be seeing is if I somehow manage to kill one of them, I want to say but instead I lie.

I look at this woman who has been nothing but patient and kind to me and utter a big fat lie.

“Yeah, I’d really like to see them. They really might be…my mates”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I have been dressed before. Dressed to please a man no less.

The last time I wore a dress so pretty was to impress Landon. To make him see that even if I didn’t have a wolf, I was half-pretty.

This dress however, the one Greta told me was called ‘La Perla’ mini-dress, makes me feel different.

Makes me feel bolder.

It’s dark like the hair cascading my shoulders, it hugs the hips I didn’t know I had till today and it matches the sharp dark heels adorning my feet.

As soon as Greta ushers me into the car, for the most part of the journey, I wipe my sweaty hands against the seat of the car. My anxiety hums so sickly inside my body.

The black tinted windows also remind me that I might be in the cursed lands but I’m not allowed to look or to step outside without someone else’s permission.

The car comes to a halt. My heart roars with regret.

The driver steps outside and a minute later, he’s by my side.

“Miss, we are here”

Sunlight accosts my eyes the minute I step outside, a huge colossal building stands tall like a giant foot monster from hell.

Everything happens so fast. One minute I’m outside, the next minute I’m inside the building, inside a lift and right now inside an office?

They told me to wait here. The only thing that is in the room is a big leather swinging chair, a glass-inch impeccable desk that occupies quarter of the room, there’s floor-length windows like the ones back in the apartment except these ones show a clear view of the sunrise.

The office is neat but the colors are as boring as the vegetable sandwich I had last night.

I place my purse on the glass table, my eyes shimmering at the orange shards of light that the sun outside throws.

I use the back of the leather chair to lean against it as I inhale what feels like a part of Brackenridge.

What feels like a part of—

“Sir! Sir- “

I don’t think.

I don’t wait to hear who ‘Sir’ is. I fall to the ground like a dead weed and hide behind the desk.

“She was just here” the woman says with a slight terror to her voice.

“Finish up on the report, I need it by four. Get out and lock the door behind you”

No. No. No.

The sound of the door getting locked resonates in the room. I continue hiding under the large desk.

Maybe he’ll leave. Maybe I’ll be safe.

Maybe I’ll not have to come face to face with the guy who smiled when I hit him and whose hands still tickle the skin on my waist every time I sleep.

He starts to walk around. Tick, tack. The sound like a warning that he’s getting closer. That he is the predator and I’m the prey cluelessly hiding.

My knees hurt and trying to be silent has my throat all dry and raspy.

I could stand up and run. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Pretend I haven’t smelled his mulled wine scent or recognized his voice.

“If you think you are invisible then you are more naïve than I thought, princess”, the timbre of his voice makes me shiver, the insult behind his statement has me mad but I can’t move.

I can’t face Shane Kincaid.