Chapter 2

“We’ll get out of here soon. I promise.” Mira murmured over and over again as she treated Francesca’s wounds. They were back in the bedroom, ordered by their Alpha to step out after the whole ordeal at the dining room. Francesca’s breath hitched as she remembered what had happened. Stefano did not even look remorseful at what he did. He meant to kill, and it did not make a difference if it were Francesca or Carmel who had taken the hit. 

Carmel. Poor little Carmel. She was so young and full of hope. She did not deserve to be lying cold and dead on the floor like that. 

“Are you breaking down again?” Gianna said, removing herself from against the wall and grabbing Francesca by the shoulders, “You have to be strong. Do you know how Mira and I survived being married to that bastard for so long? We rein in our emotions. The biggest mistake you can make in front of Stefano is to show him your tears.” 

Strong. Why does everyone want Francesca to be strong? She wished they would just let her be weak. She couldn’t fake strength even if she wanted to. Francesca tried and look where it got her. They lost Carmel because of it. 

“We’re going to get out of here. The moon goddess will not condone such behavior from any of her wolves. Stefano will be punished.” Mira remarked. Her words sounded like a prayer.

“We can’t. Carmel’s gone. Even if we got out, there’s no point to it now.” Francesca replied, rocking herself back and forth as she stared at the wall in front of her, unseeing. 

Mira and Gianna looked at each other in concern for their friend. 

“What did I tell you? Hope is fragile, especially when it doesn’t come from within. I know you loved Carmel, but it’s time to do things for yourself, Francesca. Don’t let your resolve die with Carmel. She wouldn’t want that for you.” Gianna said, her words true but unforgiving. Francesca wanted desperately to believe her, but she could barely think from the grief. 

“We should give her space,” Mira observed as Francesca continued to ignore them, gripping the purple sheets of her bed with shaking fingers. Sighing, Gianna kissed Francesca’s forehead goodbye, and she closed the door silently on their way out. 

The clock on the hand-painted walls continued to tick as Francesca remained on her spot, all alone, rocking back and forth like a little child who had just seen a monster in the middle of the night. Only her own husband was the monster, and she was forced to lie every night with that monster. Francesca moaned, and so did her wolf, animal and human sharing the same wounds. Carmel’s lifeless form kept flashing before her eyes whenever she so much as blinked. And amid her anguish, a thought formed within Francesca’s broken mind. Death. Maybe that was it—the only way to get out of this hellhole. Yes. There was absolutely no doubt that Carmel was as free as the day she was born now that Stefano couldn’t reach her. 

Francesca laughed, the sound forced and hysterical. Gianna said that she should be strong, to do things for herself from now on. Well, Francesca will take her own life. That will be her gift to herself and her wolf, who had suffered so much all these years. 

***

“Francesca.” Stefano’s voice made Francesca jump a mile like it always did. He stood by the kitchen door, regarding her with soft eyes. 

Francesca immediately knew what this was about. Every time Stefano mistreated any of them, he would come in afterward, looking apologetic and concerned for their well-being. The first few times it happened, Francesca completely fell for it; all of them did. But she had lived with him long enough to know that this was part of the act. 

Besides, everything was different this time. Carmel was gone. There was no way in hell Francesca could ever forgive him for that. 

“Yes?” Francesca whispered, swallowing the sudden fear in her heart. She surreptitiously hid the knife behind her back, the one she intended to use to end her life. 

“I want to say I’m sorry. I never wanted for any of that to happen. You believe me, don't you?” Stefano’s voice was so soft. If she didn’t know any better, Francesca would think he was broken, too. “Francesca? Look at me.” 

Stefano stepped towards her, near enough to raise her chin and meet his dark eyes. Francesca shuddered as his cold lips touched hers. 

“We would hold the most beautiful funeral for her. Carmel would have all the flowers she could ever want in a lifetime.” Stefano murmured.

Francesca felt the urge to scream and call him out on the hypocrisy of his words. Her hand, the one that grasped the knife, twitched in response to her sudden anger, and Stefano zeroed in on it. 

Francesca held her breath as Stefano frowned, “You’re not going to attack me again, are you? I thought we were past this, Francesca. You could never overpower me. I think we both tested that enough times for you to figure it out.” 

Francesca did not respond. Stefano did not need to know what she was planning to do. She’ll be out of his grasp soon enough. But the lines on her husband’s brow cleared, and the realization took place. Just then, a boisterous laugh erupted from the bastard. The sound was eerie and cavernous, and Francesca could swear something else was laughing along with him. Something far more sinister than the Alpha himself. 

“Oh, Francesca. You’re not planning on taking your own life, are you? That would be such a waste, Francesca. I’m sure you know that the Lunar Banquet we're hosting is tomorrow. I thought it would finally show you off as my wife this year, you know. You were always too sick to attend the past two years.” Stefano murmured soothingly despite the venom in his tone. He held out his hand in front of him. “Francesca, be a good girl and hand over the knife, okay?” 

Francesca just stared up at Stefano, gripping the weapon tighter within her fingers. He is not getting anything from her. 

Fed up with her silence, Stefano roughly took the knife from her, injuring himself in the process. The Alpha didn’t even blink at the pain, if he ever felt anything at all. 

The cut then healed as quickly as it had formed, and Stefano used the same hand to grab Francesca by the hair. “Come with me.” 

He dragged her down the stairs by the kitchen sink, and towards the unused basement. He then pushed her on the filthy floor, and Francesca coughed as the dust of the room invaded her nostrils. 

“Don’t you think about pulling something like that again, Francesca. I will not lose you too. You’ll be staying here until the banquet, do you hear me?” Stefano crouched down in front of her, taunting, “Not even death can save you, girl. That's for sure. You’re mine. Body and soul. I suggest you start learning to accept that.” 

And with those words, Francesca's husband left her inside. She looked around, the room was empty except for the dust collected in the corners. No weapons for Francesca to use on herself. Pretty smart for her husband. But not smart enough.

Francesca released her claws and pointed them at her neck, chuckling, "I guess we're back to you, wolf." 

The wolf inside her protested, its auburn fur raised in alarm. It didn't want to kill her, that was why Francesca looked for the knife in the first place. But now it had no choice. They needed to go. It was the only way for their soul to survive.