Speaking cruelty

Valentina POV

His eyes sparked at my words. “That’s the difference between us, Valentina”

He turned away, the door closing behind him with a cruel click. “You don’t get to choose even your fate”

The silence in the room was loud as he left. I sat on the edge of the mattress, my spine straight, my hands in my lap, staring at the closed door like it might spring open any moment, like he might return as if I want him to. My cheeks still burned from where his hand had brushed it.

How could someone be so composed in cruelty?

So beautiful and terrifying all at once?

No! Don’t go there. That’s how they win.

I curled my arms around my legs and rested my chin on my knees. The collar-chain pressed against my throat when I swallowed.

I couldn't cry, not because I wasn’t breaking but because tears would make me feel like the little girl I used to be and she died a long time ago, that part of me is buried.

She died the night my parents were slaughtered.

I closed my eyes. The image was blurry now, smoke, blood, screama. A rival Alpha had blamed my family for a betrayal. My parents, proud Alphas who fought for equality, were dragged from our home and ripped apart in front of me.

I was six. I was just six and the first cold-blooded death I witnessed was that of my parents.

Some said they deserved it. That they’d plotted against the High Alpha. That my mother was a seductress and my father a manipulator.

But I never believed it until now.

Because if Ryker Blackthorn hated me this much…maybe the rumors were true.

A knock jolted me, not a knock, it was a bang and the door opened.

A man stepped inside. He was tall, not as large as Ryker, but broad, I guess it was his Beta or Gamma. He dropped a tray on the floor without looking at me.

Bread, a cup of water and a raw piece of meat.

“This is your dinner,” he muttered.

I frowned. “I’m not a dog, I don't eat such things.”

He smirked. “ Are you sure? He says you’re to eat like one.” He said and without wasting further time, the door shut again as he left.

I stared at the plate. The meat didn't even blend well. The water was murky and the bread was stale.

But I was starving. I shoved it aside.

I’d rather chew on my pride than chew food meant for animals.

The rest of the hours was restless for me, I didn’t sleep.

I watched the candle in my dark cell room burn itself down, the shadows stretching lonely across the walls. My wolf stirred inside me barely there but just a whisper at least enough to remind me I was still alive, that I was still me.

Sleep finally caught up with me after mid-late into morning but just then, with footsteps and another bang came at the door.

This time, it was Ryker, he didn’t wait for an invitation and stepped in, his long coat brushing the floor behind him, his jaw set tight. His hair was wet from a shower, folding slightly at the ends, and a scar near his temple caught the morning light.

He looked like someone who’d spent the night torturing himself with fury.

He looked like a man who lost sleep.

“You didn’t eat,” he said, I could sense the slight sarcasm in his voice.

“I’m not an animal.”

“No?” He walked to me. “Because the way you’re baring your teeth says otherwise.”

I stood up immediately, I don’t know why. Instinct, maybe or some leftover urge to show him I wasn’t even scared of death itself.

But he moved faster than I expected and in one fluid motion, he was in front of me, his hand gripping the back of my neck, forcing my chin up.

“Don’t play brave Valentina Odessa Isolde,” he growled. “It only makes me more interested in watching you suffer.”

My breath caught in my throat at the coldness of his words.

“Why me?” I whispered. “There were dozens of Omegas at that auction. Why would personally spend your fortune just to buy me”

His fingers tightened just slightly. “Because your last name is Isolde.”

The air left my lungs. “You knew my family that well?” I asked, feigning novice even though I knew.

“I buried my family because of yours.”

His voice was razor-sharp now, not yelling. Worse, it was calm and deadly.

“My sister,” he said, “was an innocent free spirited young healer. She died in the crossfire when your parents tried to take what wasn’t theirs. She begged for her life but she wasn't spared”

“I didn’t—”

“You were a child. I know.” His eyes burned. “But I don’t care.”

“You’re punishing me for something I didn’t do!”

“No,” he said softly, letting me go. “I’m training you for the world you were born into bearing that name.”

“And when I die?” I spat. “Will that make you feel better?”

He stared at me for a long terrifying second, then he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“You won’t die, Omega,” he murmured. “That would be too merciful. I would make you beg for suffering. You would feel how it tastes to beg death but it wouldn't come, I would make you feel every ounce of it” He bellowed, I felt my knees wobble at the intensity of his words.

“I’ll make you wish you were never born, Valentina,” he whispered. “And then I’ll make you love me for it.”