3: A Condition

MIA

“Get in!” The man in a uniform sneered as he banged on the truck.

I shivered at the hate-filled glare he directed at me and slowly moved towards the truck.

My hands were still handcuffed, and the wounds I received in the interrogation room had remained that way.

My heart sank when I raised my head and found a dark trunk full of boxes with just a little space that could barely fit a human.

I turned to look at the cop, confused.

His lips spread into a smirk as he nodded his head towards the trunk.

“What? Were you expecting a fancy car or something?” He spat, and the men around burst into laughter.

I gulped and lowered my head, slowly turning again to squeeze myself in between the boxes.

I felt a rough push on my back and stumbled over, falling face down on the trunk.

Pain snapped through my body, and a wince escaped my lips.

Before I could drag myself up, a large hand pressed against my neck, pinning the side of my face to the burning trunk floor.

I groaned and struggled, but the grip remained on my neck.

I felt a breath hit my neck, and I stiffened.

“You must think the master is doing you a favor,” the evil, bald cop whispered.

“This isn't some act of mercy. This is just a painful, slow death that will still cut your lifespan in half.”

His grip around my neck tightened, and I cried out helplessly.

The laughter of the other men hanging around stung my heart.

I gasped out in horror when I felt the man press himself against me from behind.

“Feel that, huh?” He spat out and sank his claws into my neck.

The pain in my body shot up, and my hands coiled into fists.

“He will do worse to you when you get there. He will make you regret being a woman. No, he will make you regret being alive…” The man paused and drew his face so close that it was pressed against mine.

“You should have chosen the prison instead of the monster,” he muttered, and my heart dropped.

The moment he pulled away from me, I slumped down to the ground, biting my lips as pain coursed through me.

“We are about to leave!” Someone growled, and I heard the engine of the truck roar to life.

I was too weak and wrecked to get up from the ground and make it to the truck.

“Get in the truck!” The man snapped as he swung his hand for me.

He pulled me up and flung me into the truck like I weighed nothing.

I fell against a stack of boxes, and most then came tumbling down on my head.

I gasped out, fighting for air and my fading heartbeat.

I slowly tilted my head to the side and watched the man's lips stretch into an evil grin as he grabbed the handles of the large doors.

My heart clenched in rage and pain as I stared at that face while he closed the door slowly.

“The next time I'll see you again, it will be to produce an official death certificate. See your dead body in two months.”

With the horrifying words still hanging in the air and barely sinking in, he slammed the doors shut, leaving me in total darkness.

I gripped my sides, trying to breathe, but I couldn't. I was claustrophobic, and if I didn't get out of here, I might lose it.

As I struggled to keep awake, my panicked gaze fell on a glimmer of light pouring into the truck.

I looked up at the hole at the top of the roof and breathed out a sigh of relief.

My back was damp with sweat, and my knees were broken.

I still couldn't breathe properly because of the lack of air in the truck.

I got on my knees and tried to get to the light, but the boxes were so high and the space almost nonexistent.

I would have easily pushed down the stack of boxes, but I didn't know what was in them, and I was afraid to ruin the goods of people that had no idea of what I was going through.

I sighed out in frustration and slumped down, dragging my hair back.

The cop’s words filled my head, and my belly churned.

Asmodeus Nox was rumored to be cursed. He had had two previous Lunas that lost their lives mysteriously, and I was about to be the third and the next in the line of death.

Alphas and noble wolves would rather give up their daughters to become a part of his harem than to be a Luna of the wolf kingdom.

Whatever waited for me was nothing good. I was only going to be miserable with the constant reminder of death's visit.

Most say he killed his Lunas himself to replenish his powers, but most didn't believe it since he was the son of two of the greatest Lycan kings that ever lived—Lycan kings Lucian and Killian Nox. Also his mother, the current Luna Queen, once possessed the fate of the goddess of destruction.

Most believed that the spirit of destruction was passed down to him, explaining his sadistic ruthlessness, while others believed that it was in his blood to be ruthless.

“It is a Nox thing,” they will always say.

I gripped my fist tightly, rubbing my burning, sweaty palm together.

I didn't know how, but I had to survive. I had to live to prove everyone wrong.

I coughed, my chest tightening in pain.

I groaned and swung my head to the side, twisting my face with so much pain running through me.

I pondered on my decision over and over again while the movement of the truck swayed me around, sometimes jerking violently and causing me to hit my forehead on the thick brown box.

I almost threw up in the truck and fainted at least three times there.

“Yes.”

Those words echoed in my head time and time again as I sat in the cramped back of the truck. I didn't know where we were heading to and what would be my fate in a few minutes or hours.

I remembered how he walked out without a single word after I mouthed that decision. How his lips twitched into a vicious smile like the predator when a prey is caught!

I gulped, rubbing my palms while the intense heat of the truck burned my skin.

Just when I thought I would see my end before the truck reached its destination, the truck suddenly stopped violently, and I jerked forward, hitting my forehead on the box again.

I winced and rubbed my forehead, but the pain disappeared almost immediately when the engine went off.

The sounds of people outside the truck filled the air, and a wave of hope hit me.

I gasped out and rubbed my palms, letting out another sigh.

“Bring out the goods!” A loud, terrifying voice growled from outside, and a loud banging hit the door.

I flinched back, the hope I once felt slowly dispersing into fear.

I sat there, my heart racing in anxiety and my fist gripped beside me.

The door suddenly swung open, and sharp rays of light hit me.

I pulled my hand over my face, wincing in pain.

“Who is that?” Someone whispered, and my belly tightened.

I slowly raised my head and found a pair of dark, confused eyes on me.

My lips parted and slammed shut as I struggled to force words out of my mouth.

“Move!” A voice snapped, and the men standing in front of the truck moved away.

My eyes caught tightly curled golden hair, a pearl necklace around her beautiful neckline, and a heavily jeweled ear that tipped like that of an elf.

“Mia Perez,” the voice called, and my eyes snapped to her face.

My eyes locked with a pair of attractive blue eyes.

I felt a lump in my throat, and I stared at the cold, beautiful face of the woman standing confidently between men of different sizes.

Her lips suddenly stretched into a smile and her hands, which had been fixed right beside her, stretched towards me.

“Welcome to the BloodMoon Pack, Luna,” she blurted out, and my breath ceased.