Chapter 7

For the next week, my life followed the same mundane routine.

Wakeup. Stare at the wall. Eat breakfast. Stare at the wall. Pace around the room. Eat dinner. Stare at the wall. Go to bed. Repeat.

It was a form of torture to be in this room. Maybe that was my mate's plan this whole time? Drive me mad before rejecting me? Anything is plausible at this point.

I curled my fingernails into the baseboard of the wall, scratching a pattern into the weathered wood. The bed in my room has remained unused, instead opting to sleeping on the floor. It started out as fear, not wanting to ruin the sheets when I was dirty. But, by now, it's just what I'm more accustom to.

Plus, I feel guilty knowing that somewhere underground Gwen is still sleeping in a moldy, concrete cell eating soggy bread. I can't bare to snuggle up in a bed thinking of her conditions.

There's no clock in the room but if I must guess it's some wee hour into the night. I never had a regular sleeping schedule to begin with, but since coming here it hasn't helped. I usually stare at the wall until my eyes are dry and heavy from exhaustion. Eventually, my subconscious takes pity on me and lets me drift into a sleepless slumber.

Right now, however, wasn't one of those nights.

I was restless. A complete ball of nerves – and I hadn't a fucking clue why. I let out a frustrated sigh, sitting up from the floor to look around the room. It was still as barren as it was when I first got here. My eyes landed on the door, eyeing it suspiciously. Belinda usually kept it unlocked during the day so I could use the bathroom without her escorting me, but at night it was locked. She said she locked it for my own safety – that the night guards are much more aggressive and not fond of strangers on pack lands.

I don't know why, but I had the overwhelming urge to try the doorknob. I pulled myself up from my makeshift bed on the floor, smoothing my night shirt down. After my second night here, Belinda had provided me with a few spare sets of clothing. I was currently wearing the same oversized sweater they gave me when I first got here with a pair of soft shorts.

I padded across the room, letting my eyes survey my surroundings as if some predator was going to jump out from under my bed and yell at me for my actions. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just want to go to the bathroom – splash some water on my face to help calm the nerves. They never specifically told me not to leave my room.

As if it was fate, when my fingers grazed the doorknob it twisted without resistance. It was unlocked. Surely, that must be a sign.

The hallway was dark, only lit up by the moonlight coming in from the occasional window. I realized after my first couple days here that my room was on either the second or third level of the guest house. There was no point in trying to throw myself out the window and make a run for it, because I'd seriously injure myself and get caught without a doubt. My wolf was weak and barely came to the surface unless I was fully shifted, so agility is not one of my strong suits.

I carefully shut my door, not wanting to alert anyone of my absence. I had committed the journey to the bathroom to memory. I counted in my head the floorboards as I passed them, making sure to turn at number fifteen. I got to the bathroom untouched, safely locking myself behind the door.

A shallow breath escaped me as soon as the door closed. I hadn't realized I was holding it until I was safely at my destination. I quickly went to work splashing cold water on my face. It wasn't the magical answer I was searching for, but it helped do the trick. Looking up from the sink, I peaked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, grimacing as I did so.

During my stay in the cells, I didn't acquire much damage. Thanks to Gwen's advice, I was always silent and kept towards the back of the cell. Since I didn't challenge any of the guards, I never got punished. The only scratch I received during my time in the cells was my Cleaning Day scar. It was fully closed, but the new skin was raised and a slightly pinker color than my normal complexion. The curved line was situated at the bottom of my left cheek, nearing the edge of my chin.

It would likely permanently scar my face.

I didn't want to look at the scar anymore. I shut the faucet off, turning the lights of the bathroom off as well. I was careful to close the door softly before beginning my journey back to my room. I once again began to count the floorboards to guide me back to the room, keeping my gaze on the ground so I didn't miss a step in the dark.

6...7...8....

I was so preoccupied keeping track of where I was, I didn't anticipate the attack. One second, I was tiptoeing back to my room, the next I was pressed against the wall with an hand wrapped around my throat.

I gasped for air, my hands immediately coming to claw at my attackers arm out of instinct.

"Intruder." He snarled at me, his face uncomfortably close to my own. He was clearly a pack guard based on his attire – and an aggressive one, at that. My mind quickly remembered Belinda's warning about the aggressive night guards. I was foolish to think I wouldn't run in to one.

I choked on my lack of air, digging my nails into his forearm. "I'm...not!" I managed to gasp out, continuing to struggle against him. "Guest...I'm a...guest." I continued to spit out fragmented words, hoping he would at the very least let up his grip so I could explain who I was.

If anything, his grip tightened. He pressed the palm of his hand into my throat, his fingers digging into my skin as he did so. He leaned into the choke hold, using his taller height to an advantage as my feet dangled from the floor. I kicked out from underneath me, flailing my feet to get out of his grip.

"Liar," He hissed at me.

I was starting to see black splotches in my vision. I dug my nails harder into his arm, puncturing the skin and drawing blood. "Belinda!" I croaked through my choking, hoping by some miracle that the older wolf lived in the house and would hear me.

The pack guard hissed as I dug my nails into his skin, "Bitch!"

The determination in his eyes was unnerving. His canines peaked through as he growled, applying an almost bone crushing amount of pressure to his hold. And then, suddenly, it was gone.

The pack guard was ripped from my body, sent flying across the hallway. I crumbled to the floor, gasping for air. I barely registered the deep growl emitted through the hallway – I was too focused on breathing again. I crawled to all fours, desperately dry heaving to get air back in my lungs.

"Do not touch what is not yours." He snarled at the pack guard, his voice animalistic with anger. "Now, leave before I kill you."

As soon as I gained control of my breathing again, I was suffocated by his scent. Burnt firewood and fresh leather. It assaulted my senses all at once.

There was a beat of silence before the guard scrambled to his feet. "My apologies, Alpha." He was quick to retreat, not bearing a second glance in my direction.

The asshole could have apologized for choking me out.

I remained on all fours, slowly trying to calm my erratic breathing. The second I felt like it was back to normal, I caught a whiff of his scent hovering over me and it started again. His gaze was lethal as he stared into my back. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

Apprehensively, I looked up at him through my lashes. He stood in the middle of the hallway; his posture as stiff as the last time I saw him. He was barefoot, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants hanging deliciously low on his hips. Why he was here, I had no idea, but I wasn't complaining. If he didn't show up, I surely would have been left for dead all because I wanted to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

My gaze found his own, trapping me in his stare. He held my gaze for a few fleeting moments before he let out a low growl and began to advance towards me. Without warning, he grabbed me by the forearm and hauled me up as he began his silent journey down the hallway. I was dragged like a limp ragdoll by his side. Tantalizing sparks of electricity danced where our skins touched, yet neither of us acknowledged them.

He threw the door open to my room with no care of the noise. The room flooded with light as he flicked the switch, sending the door slamming backwards and trapping us in.

It was the first time I was alone with him.

He was seething with anger, that much was clear. He stood in front of the door, his chest heaving with every breath.

"Well, are you going to fucking explain yourself?"

I flinched at his tone, taking an apprehensive step backwards. "What do you mean?" I squeaked; my voice embarrassingly raw still from the attack.

"Are you kidding me?" His voice raised, his fist clenching by his sides. "If you're going to try to run away, at least try harder next time."

"Stop yelling at me! I wasn't trying to run away." I surprised even myself with the outburst. I was burnt out from this whole ordeal. I was already driving myself mad with anxiety being trapped in this room, not to mention I just got attacked. I didn't need this as well to add to it.

"Liar!" He took a step towards me, his voice still slightly warped from his wolf's anger.

It was the second time tonight I was being called a liar and frankly, I was over it.

"Leave me alone!" I yelled as he took another step towards me. I could feel the anxiety creeping up my throat and the panic attack beginning to settle in my chest. I tried to calm my breaths but it wasn't working. He became a blurry vision in front of me, clouded by the tears burning my vision. "I just wanted to use the bathroom; I swear."

He didn't leave like I demanded. We stood in front of each other, letting the silence fill the room as neither of us spoke. The only things that could be heard were his panting breaths and my pathetic sniffles as I tried to stop the tears.

After a few more moments, his breathing returned to normal. He was still a blurry image in front of me as he took an advancing step forward, getting closer and closer. I used the back of my sweater to wipe away my tears, stumbling backwards to get away from him. He continued to follow me, not stopping until I felt the side table next to the bed hit my hip.

He was so close, it was suffocating. That seemed to be a common theme with him. Everything about him was suffocating – his scent, his presence, his dominance. It was all a lot.

He reached a hand out towards my face. My body flinched on its own accord, causing a growl to rumble through his chest. His fingers wrapped around my jaw, surprisingly soft compared to the anger radiating off him. The pads of his fingers were calloused and rough as he tilted my jaw up slightly, bowing his head down to examine me.

It dawned on me that he was looking at my neck.

My jaw was numb from his electrifying touch. I stayed silent as he continued his examination, letting his grip go from my jaw to trail a finger along my throat to check for any damage. Besides the bruising that was already forming around the base of my neck, it was fine. His finger lingered on my skin for a moment before he pulled away, putting some much-needed space between us.

The air was heavy in the room and I couldn't shake the feeling of his hands on me.

"You should go to bed." He averted his eyes from me, keeping his gaze above my head. His voice was back to its normal tone, no longer mixed with his wolf's. He stared for another fleeting moment before retreating, lingering by the door with it half-open. He spared one last glance in my direction, "Don't leave the room."

A familiar click signaled him leaving and the door locking. A sound I had come unfortunately used to by now.