Chapter 3

As I landed on the stranger's chest, I felt a jolt of electricity run through my body. I looked up, trapped in the most beautiful blue-green eyes I had ever seen.

The stranger's face was chiseled like they were sharpened from granite, his features so perfect they seemed almost ethereal. His skin was smooth, his jawline sharp, and his nose straight. He looked like an image of the gods themselves.

He was so beautiful; but even that felt like an unworthy adjective to qualify him.

As I gazed at him, sparks flew where our skins touched, a connection that seemed to crackle with energy. I felt my heart racing, my senses tingling. His scent, a mix of earthy woods and fresh rain, enveloped me, making my head spin.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the world around us melting away. I had never been this close to a man, and being pressed chest to chest with him, and his scent clouding my senses, all added to a tingling sensation I had never felt before.

But all too quickly, the moment was shattered. The stranger stood up, his movements fluid and effortless. He pulled me to my feet, his grip firm but gentle, and dropped my hand a second later like a hot potato.

His frame towered above me. The man was a 6’4 hulk of beauty and pure muscles that looked like he ate bricks for breakfast, and I could tell he wasn’t from this pack.

"Don't ever do something silly like that again," he warned in a cold voice that could easily be mistaken for arrogance.

I felt a pang of disappointment. Where had the connection gone? It had been unmistakable. Why was he suddenly cold?

I tried to speak, to ask him who he was, but he turned and walked away before I could utter a word. I watched him, mesmerized, as he disappeared into the trees.

I was still standing there, lost in the trance, when I heard the sound of footsteps behind me. Derrick's men. They grabbed me, holding me down as I kicked and thrashed.

"Let me go!" I screamed, but they just growled, their grip tightening.

As they dragged me back to the house, I turned to catch a glimpse of the hot stranger. But he was gone like he’d never been there. Almost as if my mind had conjured the whole encounter itself.

As I was dragged back into the house, I steeled myself for the worst, and more so when I was thrown to the ground and came face to face with a pair of boots.

I snapped my eyes shut, waiting for the impact, but it never came.

“Now, now, gentlemen, that’s no way to treat a lady.”

I snapped my head up to see Derrick standing above me with a grin.

"Sit down, Ariana," he said, his voice dripping with fake sweetness.

My heart lurched in my throat. Why was he so calm?

I hesitated, my heart racing, but something about his demeanor made me obey. I picked myself from the floor and sat down, my eyes fixed on him, waiting for the storm to break.

But instead of yelling, instead of hitting me, Derrick leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll excuse the little stunt you just pulled," he said. "This time."

I was taken aback. Where was the anger? The rage? I was even more afraid of his calm, because I didn't know what he was plotting.

"You're still alive, Ariana, because you're useful to me," he continued. "And soon, you'll be useful to someone else."

“Wha-what do you mean?” I stuttered, cold sweat rolling down my back.

“Your time here has elapsed, Ariana. I’m giving you away,” he spoke so softly like he was talking to a child who had comprehension issues.

I felt a chill run down my spine. "Who?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Derrick's smile grew wider. "Alpha Ryker."

My blood ran cold. Alpha Ryker was the most powerful werewolf. I had never seen him, but the rumors about him made my skin crawl. He was ruthless, merciless, and cruel.

"No," I protested, my voice shaking. "I won't go."

Derrick's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh, but you will," he said. "In fact, you leave in two days."

"I'd rather die," I spat.

I’d never talk back at Derrick on a normal day because I knew what he was capable of doing. But at that moment, my anger suppressed any fear in my heart. I was livid.

Derrick laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "We'll see about that," he said. "Watch me make you."

I felt a shiver run down my spine. Something about his tone, about the glint in his eye, made me realize that I was in grave danger. But I refused to back down.

"You can't make me," I said, my voice trembling.

Even if I was bound, I would never give in to his request. I would not be another one of the long line of concubines of the devil himself.

Derrick leaned forward, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Oh, but I can," he whispered. "And I will."

Derrick gave a signal to the guards, and they nodded before walking away. He grasped my arm, his grip like a vice, and started dragging me with him. I clawed at him, thinking he was taking me to the dungeon, but instead, he pulled me into a room, forcing me to sit in the only empty chair.

A computer sat on a desk, and Derrick began to set it up with an air of excitement like a child gifted a new toy. I watched, confused, as the screen flickered to life. My heart was racing, and my mind was filled with dread.

As I turned back to the computer, my blood ran cold. My mother was chained against a wall, her eyes filled with fear. Derrick's voice was laced with malice. "Watch the screen closely, Ariana."

Two men entered the cell, each holding whips. Before I could even blink, the whips landed on my mother's back. I yelled, feeling like I was the one being whipped. Derrick's grip on my arm tightened, forcing me to keep watching.

The camera in the cell had a microphone, and I could hear my mother's agonizing screams. They cut through me like a knife, making my heart shatter into a million pieces. I tried to turn away, but Derrick's grip was unyielding.

"Watch!" he growled.

I was trapped, forced to witness my mother's torture. The whips fell again and again, each crack making me flinch. My mother's screams grew louder, more desperate.

"No! Stop!" I yelled, trying to break free.

Derrick's laughter was like ice. "Your mother is a powerful she-wolf," he said. "She can take it."

I spat at him, my anger and hatred boiling over as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. "You'll never break her! She's stronger than you'll ever be!"

Derrick's smile grew wider. "I know," he said. "And the party's just getting started."

I held my breath as I turned back to the screen and about 20 other bulky men walked in, and my heart plummeted all the way down to my knees.

My throat ran dry, and I shook my head, already knowing where this was going.

“Derrick….” I called in a voice so small I could barely hear myself.

“Watch, little princess,” he held my jaw tightly to the screen.

I watched my mother’s eyes widen in horror as the men shredded her clothes– or what was left of it– off her body.

My own scream was ear splitting as the men, all twenty two of them, had their hands all over her, prodding, touching and groping.

“I’ll do it! Please stop!” I screamed, horrified.

“What was that?” Derrick asked, his smile widening.

“Please make them stop. I’ll do it!” I heaved as more tears ran down my cheeks.

There was silence for a beat before the men retreated. He must have mindlinked them.

“Good girl,” Derrick patted my hair before walking away, and I slumped like a pile on the floor, letting my tears shake my whole being as I sealed my own fate.