Chapter 2

Hazel's POV

"Francis?" I called, my voice trembling as I crawled closer. His eyes were empty, yet I could see a trace of pain, longing to say something.

This couldn't be happening.

I stumbled backward as Francis's lifeless body fell. I reached out to call or at least check if he still had any life but nothing; his skin was ice cold, sending shivers down my spine. I frantically checked for a pulse, my fingers shaking against his wrist.

"No, no, no," I cried. I was so confused why everything was happening this way.

First Mom, Dad, and now him.

Suddenly, there were footsteps.

Where are they going? I thought they had left. My heart raced at the thought of them coming back. Was it possible that they had also done this to Francis?

"Hazel Myelin, you're under arrest for hereditary crimes of treason and the murder of your fated mate," the head guard growled, his club at the ready. "You'll face the council of elders and accept your judgment."

What?

My eyes widened.

“I didn't kill Francis! By the time I found Francis, he was already dead," I protested, but my words were cut short by a stinging slap. My cheek throbbed, and I bit back a cry that threatened to escape my lips.

All of a sudden, one reached out, gripping my arms roughly. I stumbled as he pulled me aside, struggling to keep my balance.

"Where are you taking Francis?" I demanded, dragging the hem of his shirt.

They ignored me.

Their grip on me is tightening even harder. I was pulled through the doorway, leaving Francis behind.

The next thing I knew, I was shoved into a damp, dimly lit cell. The door slammed shut, and I tripped, landing hard on the cold stone floor.

A sharp feeling of pain shot through my elbow. It was bruised from the dragging. 

What was I doing here? 

Few days before I was at home with mom and dad waiting for the wedding plans ahead of Francis and me, and now today I was locked up in a cell for a reason I knew nothing of.

After what felt like days I finally slept, giving in to the tiredness.

The first two days passed in quietness. But on the third day, or at least that, I thought. I heard voices coming from down the hall, one that was far too familiar. 

I recognized the snickers, the mocking tones. My packmates were here.

I looked through the rails of the prison gates. I could hear the noises from their raised voices, but I was not in the right state of mind to process what exactly they were saying.

A couple of minutes later, about five of them barged in with savage grins.

"Little Hazel, how have you been?" Gemini said it with a rather mocking tone than sympathy. her dark hair falling across his forehead.

I raised my head, meeting her gaze. "It would've been heaven if you hadn't shown up."

My packmate had made my life a living hell, ever since my 18th birthday—the day I figured I was the Omega of the pack.

The relentless torment and bullying was one thing I could never miss.

"Well, at least we came to say hi, didn't we, just so you know we're cool with you being here. Honestly, your face is a mess, Haz,” Lisa spoke.

Haz. A nickname she always used to mock me, funny how we used to be friends until she discovered my status. 

"Gemini is right; who knows if you are not going to die tomorrow? If you did, it'll be too late for us to offer you a farewell gift.” They all laughed. 

Did they really come all the way here to mock me?

I lowered my head, resting them on my knees. I didn't have any energy left to speak again.

Their taunts echoed through the bars, but I tuned them out, focusing on the cold metal separating us.

The mockery continued fueling my pain into rage; my anger flared. "Keep your gift. Just leave."

Their jeers grew louder, but I stood firm, my eyes locked on theirs.

"Just a few days, and here you are; obviously, you've built yourself the audacity to throw back our words to our faces. Who do you think you are, Hazel Myelin? We could literally kill you right now and be doing the pack a grand favor by eliminating the daughter of two traitors," Gemini spat out. 

The five snarled at me simultaneously; their hands shot out to land a blow from various angles, but they got hooked by the bars of the prison gates. I smiled as I watched their hands and claws dangling in the air with no target to inflict harm on.

"Get the hell out!" I barked, my voice echoing off the cell walls.

With that, they left, disgust clear on face. I stared at the wardens who became venting grounds for people like them. 

Obviously, the cooked-up story on how they will be labeled as traitors if they kill me worked like magic. It scared them so badly that all through the period I awaited my hearing, they didn't even approach me again.

It appeared as though the elders were not ready to take my hearings just yet, but I felt that it was fine in the prison here. I could have my free time to think about life after I made it out of the cell.

But my free time was short-lived. Two days later, the guards arrived.

"Hazel Myelin, come with us. The council of elders awaits." Two strict guards walked in rudely and dragged me from my shoulders.

My heart sank. “I didn't kill Francis; please believe me.” I begged, but they didn't seem to listen to anything I was saying.

This was it; my moment of hell had been reignited again.

The guards' gripped my arm, like I was some captured wild animal threatening to escape if let loose. 

They dragged me out of the cage, their grip never loosening

Where were they taking me?

Were they also going to kill me?