I was breathing hard, overwhelmed by the emotions flooding through me. I just wanted to stop and cry myself to sleep. “Yes, I will not deny who I am. I am… the daughter of the mad rogue and a Lycan—a hybrid. I am Veilos or Makayla Ellis. I am the same person. I am a spy who gathers information. I am the wanted woman you are hunting. I am that person,” I clenched my fist so hard my nails dug into my palms, “But I didn't kill Baron.” He shook his head, “you do.” “I don't! Yes, I was ordered to spy on the MadCrest Pride. I went there alone only to find the other dead bodies of the Lycan on the floor. I met a man who asked me if I was Veilios. He was the one who told me that the rogues were after me. Before we realized this, the rogues started hunting me and…” my lips trembled at the memory, “We fought so hard but there were too many, and the building began burning.” Tears continued to roll down my cheeks as I recounted the moment. "He saved me. His wolf resurfaced, and I felt h
The next night….. Nicholas’s POV The ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts, each a testament to the sleepless night I'd just endured. The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke. Empty whiskey bottles stood on the desk, no use for numbing the pain in my heart. “F*ck” A curse sprang to my lips. This soul-crushing agony was unlike anything I'd ever known. I'd gladly endure a physical wound over this. My wolf, Berion, had remained silent throughout the day, but I'd felt his howl of anguish the moment the truth pierced our ears. One thing was certain: coming to terms with our mate being the very spy we hunted was a struggle we both faced. A harsh rap on the door shattered the silence, snapping me from my thoughts. Before I could even bark an order to enter, the door creaked open, revealing a sight that only added to my frustration. "I'm not in the mood for visitors," I stated curtly, downing another shot of alcohol. Politeness had worn thin. Sarah, Samantha's mothe
Another, sharper slap sent tears streaming down my face. "I did everything for you, Samantha! I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me? By throwing away your future?" "What future, Mom?" I cried. "There was no future the moment he found his mate! There was no future the moment I betrayed him." "Don't you grasp the situation? His mate couldn't be Luna—she was branded a criminal as a spy!" A bitter laugh escaped my lips. How utterly hypocritical I was. While I'd harbored the desire for Florence's demise, learning she was both Nicholas' mate and, to my immense shame, my stepsister, flipped my world upside down. I'd known of a stepsibling, but Florence never crossed my mind. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Mom?" "What is there to be ashamed of?" "You abandoned your own child," My mother shook her head dismissively, "We've already discussed this. She is not my child. Forget everything and just accept—" My voice trembled as I interrupted, "You're to blame
Florence's POV I sat against the cold, damp stone, feeling the chill seeping through my clothes. Hunger pangs gnawed at my stomach. It had been seven long days in this place, surviving on a meager meal each day. However, the real challenge wasn't the physical discomfort but the silence that surrounded me. No messages or visits from Nicholas or anyone else, except for the maid—Lena who silently brought my food. The woman didn't even let her eyes land on me. If there is one thing I am grateful for the past seven days here in the jail, it is for the brief 5-minute baths they allowed me three times this week, though it was under the watchful eye of a female guard in a bathroom devoid of a window, ventilation, or even a mirror. Aware that my time here was limited, I couldn't help but wonder about the punishment Nicholas might be contemplating. I silently hoped for a quick death. Leaning against the cold stone wall, all I could do was wish that Nicholas would reconsider whatever pun
Clifford interjected, "The video showed Sara with a male companion. Were you involved, and what explains her northward direction? Based on the traces, she seemed so sure about her destination." A small smile played on my lips. I knew Sara was a clever girl. "Yes, I instructed her to head north," I explained. "Though she could shift, she lacked proper training. I offered basic guidance for her and her wolf, directing her to my house to collect any necessities." That’s….” Gayle shakes her head, “Badass” Isaac remained unconvinced. "How can we be sure you're telling the truth?" "The CCTV footage from Madam Barbara's club can verify my story. The man who struck the deal with me visited on May 12th, around 9 pm." Nicholas's voice turned dark and dangerous. "Was he the one who marked your neck with those red lines that night?" I nodded curtly. "Yes." "Do you recall his name?" "Austin Bates. And..." I hesitated, "he's a member of the Mad Crest Pride." Clifford
After a few hours, finally, sleep decided to visit me. I lay curled on the cold stone floor. But just as the edges of consciousness began to blur, a familiar scent pierced the stale air – a blend of cedarwood and sandalwood, a scent that sent a jolt through my body.Nicholas.I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it to be a figment of my tortured imagination. But the sound of approaching footsteps, heavy and deliberate, shattered the illusion. It was then his voice that confirmed it was not my imagination.“Are you asleep?”I opened my eyes and instantly sat upright, staring at him. “W-what are you doing here?” I asked, stunned.He stopped in the cell opposite mine, leaning to the bars. The clinking of the bottle held the only sound room. He sat on the floor casually clad in casual sweatpants and a t-shirt. My gaze landed on the bottle in his hand, half-empty and held with a loose grip."Couldn't sleep," he confessed, his voice tired, "Couldn't stop thinking."I bite my lip to stop the te
The sound of approaching footsteps broke the suffocating silence of the cell. My heart leaped, hope forming in my chest. It has been 2 days since he visited me. Maybe it was Nicholas, maybe he'd finally come back for me. But as the figure rounded the corner, the overly sweet familiar scent, my breath hitched in my throat – Samantha. As if on cue, she materialized in jeans and a simple shirt paired with a pink blazer. "Samantha?" I croaked, my voice rusty from disuse. "What are you doing here?" She stood a few feet away, her face unreadable in the dim light coming from the lamp. "Visiting," she mumbled. A heavy silence descended upon us. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Samantha spoke again. "I’m sorry…..for how our mother abandoned you." I stared at her, speechless. An apology? From Samantha? Maybe my expression showed what I truly felt about her sudden apology because she continued. "I…" she began, then faltered. "I don't like you, Florence. I never have
My head throbbed against the cold bars, a dull ache mirroring the one that had settled permanently in my chest. It's been three days since I received that letter from my father and that hollowness in my heart still lingers. Fatigue clung to me like a second skin, and peering at the face staring back from the bars, I barely recognized the woman with swollen eyes and lifeless hair. A metallic clang echoed through the corridor, jolting me from my weary daze. The heavy metal door groaned open, revealing an unfamiliar woman with red hair. She was new. The woman was oddly familiar. Ah right. She was the woman I saw in the hallway the night when the incident with Agares happened. The woman looked at me, meeting my eyes for a second before averting her gaze. Without a word or even a flicker of acknowledgment, she put a metal tray through the small gate at the base of the door. At least these days, I am now eating 3 times a day. I didn't know what happened but I was thankful for i