Prologue: The Irony

My breath hitched. And then my back hit the wall, tiptoeing breaths fanning over my body as I shuddered almost violently. I could barely see anything at all, my eyes sore as I tried to pinpoint my surroundings with fumbling accuracy. The wood beneath my fingers a stark jolt of pain as I gasped, the splinter causing blood to break the surface. 

The smell was metallic and rich. It permeated the air. 

But it did nothing to stop that daunting man's approach. His footsteps a thunder in my throat. 

I tried to step back, but it seemed I had forgotten about the wall behind me. 

I could only stare, my tongue dry. 

His eyes were like liquid honey, those long legs stepping forward with an authority that made the wolf within me cower.  

I hated the feeling; that dip of powerless fatigue that encroached unwanted amongst my bones. 

But more than that I hated... 

"What's wrong, little wolf? Did you lose your nerve?" The man before me scoffed, his deep voice a river that ran clear with his intentions. 

Hate pooling past those harsh but almost kissable lips. He was scowling at me. 

But of course he was. He didn't want me here. 

My knees quivered, and I looked down at the floor--ashamed. 

"That's what I thought." 

I heard him walk out with a wince. The slam of the door signaled his temporary departure. His gold eyes flashed in my mind like an unwanted mantra. 

...I hated that I couldn't bring myself to hate him. 

Curling my knees up to my chest, I could only laugh. Fighting back the urge to cry as his voice sounded through the thin wooden door, the sound of a snake that slithered its way into my eardrums. 

Velvety, soft. 

It left goosebumps down my arms. 

This time, I did laugh. But a sob followed shortly after. 

A mate who turned out to be your captor... how pathetic was that?