FOUR

ALAYNA’s POV

“What are you two doing?”

Ezra’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade—deep, sharp and commanding. It demands attention, makes the air thicken in the room, and I cannot breathe properly.

Drake stiffens too. His usual calm demeanour falters, his face tightening as he turns toward Ezra and bows. "Ezra, Alayna was... held hostage here. She—"

Drake continues, but I can hardly make out his words now. Ezra’s presence is too overwhelming. I feel as if am caught in a storm, the air heavy with tension that presses in from all sides. My pulse quickens. I think about Ezra’s last words, those cold, calculated words, “Then show me her dead body.”

Ezra does not care about me. Why did I ever think he did? Even the blind can see this.

Just that moment, Ezra’s eyes of midnight slice over me. Our eyes meet briefly and I see nothing in them. It is as if I am staring into the abyss. No flicker of emotion, no warmth, nothing. Just cold, impenetrable darkness.

I suddenly feel anxious, as if the walls are closing in on me. I tear my eyes away and lower my head.

What was I expecting? Concern from Ezra? Hah. He is probably angry that I am still alive. That I did not just vanish in this room, that I did not die when I was meant to. The thought makes my heart feel heavy. My body trembles, and I wonder if Ezra can sense it.

I do not want to be here anymore. I do not want to look at him. I take a step forward, wanting to leave the room.

But then Ezra’s voice rings out again, harsh, like a command.

"Stop."

My feet freeze on the cold floor. Instinctively, my breath catches in my throat and I feel his eyes on me once again.

I cannot meet his gaze. It is too much. Ezra walks towards me, stopping a mere inch away. He towers above me, a figure of power and control, a constant reminder of how little I matter in his world.

For the longest moment, he does not speak. His presence fills me so much so that I cannot even hear Drake’s breathing anymore. It is just Ezra and me, in this suffocating silence.

Ezra does not make a move. He does not touch me, he does not comfort me. He simply stares at me with that unreadable expression of his.

I feel as if I am being crushed under the weight of his gaze, but I raise my head to meet and hold his gaze. I have never dared to do that before.

Ezra blinks, seemingly surprised that I am staring back at him in the eye. But only for a second, then he is back to his stoic self again.

"See the pack doctor immediately," he orders. Like I am his servant and nothing more.

I nod and step past him. Behind me, Drake moves to follow me.

"She can go alone," Ezra says.

"Ezra... the kidnapper might still—"

"I said, she can go alone," Ezra snaps. His words are final.

I do not wait for Drake to say anything more. I walk out the door, my heart pounding in my chest, my body feeling light and heavy at the same time.

Ezra does not even wait for me to leave. I can hear him immediately talking to Drake about the upcoming pack warrior training.

The cold stone of the hallway greets me as I step out of the room, my hands shaking slightly. The hallway seems to stretch endlessly before me, and I walk down it, wondering if maybe, just maybe I should have died in the room.

***

The pack doctor’s clinic is small but neat. A crisp, sterile scent fills the room, mingled with herbs and chlorine. It is a smell that I have inhaled many, many times before. Why, you might ask?

It is my mother’s clinic. Mother is the pack doctor. And this stormy night, I am her patient.

“What did you get yourself into this time?” Mother slams the clinic door, storming over to where I stand, right next to the examination table.

I open my mouth to explain but before a single sound can leave my lips, mother delivers a stinging blow against my cheek.

SLAP!

“Do not talk!” she hisses, shoving me against the examination table. My hands grip the edge of the table and I bite into my lips.

“You are to stay mute forever! Remember that!” Mother wags a finger at me, baring her teeth. “You owe me and our family that. Do not ever forget what you did three years ago.”

Three years ago... How could I ever forget? The memory is a nightmare that will haunt me until the end of my days.

Three years ago, Father was still the proud Alpha of the Morning Star pack. Three years ago, I was still free to speak, to laugh, to dream. But then the fight happened, and everything shattered. My father, once strong and commanding, was left paralyzed, helpless. I can hardly recall the details, but Mother says it was my fault.

Because of that incident, father lost everything — his power, his strength, his place as Alpha. And with his fall, our pack was left vulnerable, exposed to the mercy of Ezra. To save ourselves from being nothing more than slaves, I was forced into silence, pretending to be mute to gain their pity. And my sister was given away, presented to Ezra as a prize, as his Luna.

But nothing, nothing went the way Mother had planned. Everything went wrong the night before the wedding.

Everything.

“Give me your hand,” Mother says as she angrily unbottles an antiseptic and pours it over a bunch of cotton wool. Then, she grabs my wrists, pressing the cotton on them. The antiseptic stings and I flinch.

“Pathetic.” Mother thrusts a plaster into my hand and points at my nose, where a cut is. “If only your sister were here,” she mutters under her breath.

My sister. Aurora.

Mother’s favourite child. The one who was supposed to be Ezra’s Luna. The one who got away.

Aurora disappeared the night she was supposed to marry him, and I became the substitute bride. The unwanted mute substitute bride.

Mother works quickly, muttering more insults as she finishes her work, then leans back, shaking her head. "You know, it’s a real shame. If only you could produce an heir for Lord Ezra, then I wouldn’t have to work anymore. But no, nothing from your womb after all these years. Why can’t you just spread your legs and let him fuck you?”

I smile, pretending it does not bother me, but inside, it burns. My wolf has been hiding inside ever since the accident. I still have not healed. I still cannot shift. And I cannot talk to anyone about it. Not from this pack anyways.

A knock at the door pulls Mother’s attention. It is her nurse.

“Excuse me, Alayna, I’ll be right back," she says, her voice light. Mother speaks differently with me when there are other people around. “Make yourself comfortable."

Then, she steps out, leaving me alone in the room.

I fidget in my seat and my fingers accidentally graze the pocket of my dress. Then suddenly, the feeling hits me all at once—the hard object inside it. The crazed man’s phone.

I must have forgotten all about it.

I pull it out of my pocket, the cold plastic smooth in my hand. It is sleek, glossy black, and heavier than my own.

I do not know why I am holding it. I should not be. I should not care.

But when I press the button, the screen lights up with a single number, Ezra’s.

My heart lurches.

“Then show me her dead body.”

The words echo in my head, louder now than ever before, screaming for me to relive my nightmare.

All these years, I have been loyal to him. Waiting patiently for the day to come when Ezra would finally look my way and say, “Alayna, I love you.”

All these years I have put up with the verbal abuse, telling myself that deep down, Ezra cares for me, that I am not a just substitute Luna that everyone says I am.

All these years I have been nothing but a fool.

I will be a fool no longer. I want to leave him and this pack.

I swallow, my fingers trembling as I press the number. The phone rings. Once. Twice. The seconds stretch out like hours.

Finally, it picks up.

I hold my breath.