01

Peyton

Present.

"It's time." The gruff voice of a man booms through the thick walls of the cold dungeon. My ear kicks in the rustling of keys, then the sound of the door that is being jerked open.

In comes a scarred face brutal-looking man, with two of his companions - a man and a masculine woman.

"Pick her up," He orders, shooting me daggers with his hard face. His name is Beisten, and he's the head guard of the Alpha's dungeon.

 I am roughly being pulled up by the woman, with the chains I am bound in, making noises as they dangle.

"Sir, she's refused to eat since she was brought here." The woman informs the head man this, gesturing at the cup of stale milk which I suspected to have the urine of a rat, and then there's the bread which of course is half feasted on by rats.

"Still won't talk yet?" Beistern inquires, grabbing hold of my chin and examining my throat which I know is completely red.

After shoving several cups of hot tea down my throat to get me to talk, it was futile. I was temporarily mute, and when I was forced to communicate through paper sheets, my writing was bad because they made me use my right hand when it was my left hand I could use in writing.

"Alpha Ronan and the pack members are waiting for you in the council hall, you'll speak whether you wish to or not." The virile woman whose name is Avyanna roughly shoves me forward, and the second man shakes his head at me in pity.

"Things wouldn't have escalated to this extent if you had talked that night, rather you claimed to be mute all of a sudden. And when you were asked to communicate through paper sheets to narrate what happened, you chose to write with the most terrible handwriting I have ever seen in the history of pen and sheets." 

On hearing this, I gulp. Fighting against the urge to shed tears.

Even my adopted family isn't aware of me being left-handed since they paid little or no attention to me. I was more like a maid to them because they felt I was cursed until Lancelot came into my life, and then the Moon goddess blessed me with Freya, my wolf.

Everyone accused me of Lancelot's death, even when they saw the bite marks on his neck which was obviously cauaed by several vampires' fang They claimed I killed him, pretended to be mute, wrote with terrible handwriting so they'd let me off the hook.

It's been two days with Lancelot gone, and a day he's been six feet below the earth. He was buried yesterday. Covered in mud with a cemented head stone with the words 'Find a better place of rest, Lancelot Campbell O'Sullivan, 1995-2021'

Something which makes me wallow in grief, suffer a great deal of uncertainty and currently, I am undergoing selective mutism - Having that urge to speak, but cannot because of this exact earth-shattering circumstance.

But I cried.

I had no idea a person could cry as much as I did. It feels like the walls are closing in, with a continually gaping hole violently boring into my chest each time my brain comprehends the ugly reality that my mate got killed by a vampire.

The trio leads me out of the dungeon, and I place one unsteady footstep after the other, wishing all of this will be just a nightmare.

I am waiting for Lancelot to show up and tell me he's alive, that the person who was buried yesterday is someone else and not him.

"Walk faster, you wouldn't want to keep the Alpha, his beta, and the rest of the pack members waiting." Beistein orders as he casts me a backward glance through his broad shoulder.

"I'll lend a hand," Avyanna says, then grabs my hand and starts walking at a fast pace.

Hot tears drip down my cheeks when an image of Lancelot's charming smile flashes through my brain.

Lancelot was the closest thing I had to a family, having been adopted into the low-ranking Omega family of the Crimson pack, I was no different from a maid because I was an orphan. We met at the annual Crimson anniversary two years ago and became quite acquainted. Although I was yet to transform into my wolf which was like a curse and I ended up getting emotionally bullied. 

We became close from then onwards, and Lancelot helped me gain a little bit of self-confidence because my adopted family members treated me as a maid due to the fact that I was yet to transform. They were disappointed and blamed me for being unable to connect with my astral spirit on the rise of every full moon, because that was the time teenager had their first transformations.

But on the night of my twentieth birthday, the moon goddess decided it was enough, and blessed me with my wolf.

I can still remember how Lancelot was trying to help tame my wolf by feeding me with fresh meat so I wouldn't kill someone because my wolf was out of control.

Lancelot stayed with me and took care of me until I was a tad normal. He taught me how to easily shift into my wolf, and this made us see our naked bodies for the first time. 

An embarrassed me attempted to hide my body from his hot penetrating gaze because he was the first person of the opposite gender to see me without clothes. But Lancelot surprised me by gently pushing my hands away.

He told me there was nothing to feel embarrassed or ashamed of.

I can still remember how he washed off the bloodstains of the fresh meat I had eaten, away from my body even though it felt absurd that someone a few years ahead of me was helping me wash up.

And he didn't ogle at my body just like the way perverts did, his dark gaze worshiped my body instead. Afterward, he helped heat a canned soup for me since my family was away that night.

I was unsettled by his kindness towards me, so I asked him why he was so nice to me, he revealed to me that I was his mate, that he knew on the first night of seeing me that was why he stuck around to make me like him.

My adopted family was excited on hearing this because Lancelot was the heir to Empire's Enterprise, a million-dollar company, and also the Beta's only child. The family had the luxury to afford whatever they desired including the mansions, the latest cars, and expensive assets.

Lancelot made me fall hard and deep for him, took me out of my sufferings, only to lose his life two months to our mating ceremony.

I push these memories aside, then focus on the present when I made known in the pack's council that consists of roughly fifty people.

I ignore the eyes of my dad, mom, and brother because I can't bring myself to see their scornful faces. 

My eyes land on Alpha Ronan who is on his throne, second to Lancelot's dad who is the Beta, and Lancelot's mom who is currently in tears, which makes my heart shatter even more.

"She killed my only son!" She wails, staring at me with acrimony as she lunges towards me with the canines and claws of her wolf visible, due to anger from the both of them. But she's being stopped by the people closest to her.

There's murmuring from the entourage, I can even pick out being called words like 'Murderer, bitch, and ugly.

Silence falls when Alpha Ronan raises his hand.

"Peyton Barlowe, we've waited enough. We need answers regarding Lancelot's death!" He presses on with urgency.

The pack's gammas and elders show little or no interest in this though, they even look bored like they'd rather be anywhere than here.

I take a hard hurtful gulp, knowing at this point that the only person who can help prove my innocence by subsiding this selective muteness so I can speak up, is the moon goddess.