-ZOYA- I stare at his back, speechless. Ragnar deflecting was extra annoying, but I know he wasn't kidding about the five minutes. I type in Xander's number, my heart racing faster with every digit. It might have been from the adrenaline from the fight... or the tension. How would Xander react? Maybe he wished I was dead like every other person... Maybe he no longer wants anything to do with me. "Who is this?" Xander's cool voice cuts through my thoughts. I take a deep breath. Ragnar only glances back. "It's okay, Zoya," I mutter to myself, remembering that Xander was always like this—cold, opening up only to what he believed in. Once upon a time, I was part of what he believed in too. "It's Zoya," I say. There's no reply. Only silence that cuts deeper than any outburst would have. I look back at the screen, wondering if he ended the call, and finally, "What do you want?" "I'm sorry, Xander. I'm sorry for everything, for hiding my identity. Everything was so perfect, an
-ZOYA- I try to shove him away, but Ragnar holds me in place, showing me that apart from being immortal, he could also be a fucking wall. His hand slides down to my waist, holding me firmly against him. All the bravado I felt a few moments ago dissipates into thin air. No doubt, when he tilts my chin, forcing me to look into his hypnotizing gold eyes, he sees the fear in mine. "Your ideas of rebellion have room for questioning." He scoffs, taking off a pin from my hair. Then another, until all the pins are gone from my hair and scattered on the ground and my hair is falling down my bare shoulders. "Move, Zoya," I think. "kick this mother fucker in the shin..." But my stomach was doing some weird flipping, and my legs were as stiff as a stubborn piece of clay. "Rule number one," the hand on my waist moves up to my zipper. "Gear for battle. Not pretty black gowns." That's when I move, the shock at what he's about to do spurring me into motion. I push Ragnar away with s
CHAPTER 7 RAGNAR I snap my fingers in the air, and the men resume their training. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I turn around, heading down the mountain. Now I was certain that the little wolf wouldn't go running away, I was free to do the more important things. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryker change form, his muscles flexing, fingers extending into claws till a wolf stood where he was and bounded down the mountain, catching up with me at the foot. I close my eyes briefly, shifting the silver scythe from one hand to the other. The weapon of death was getting even heavier in my hands the longer I went without killing. It didn't appreciate being carried around like a staff when it was meant for killing. So was the restraint I was struggling to keep. "You don't have to follow me, Ryker," I say after a while. The huge white wolf had fallen into step beside me. His thoughts filter into my head. Ryker sometimes spent more time as a wolf than a human. He was on
-ZOYA-Attack? What attack? "I'm leaving!" I blurt out, completely fed up.Ragnar turns to face me for the first time, with a look of pity. "I don't think you understand how that blood pact works yet, little wolf." I don't care, I want to say, but the words feel stuck in my throat. Ragnar stares at me with such intensity that made me want to grab a hacksaw, tear the ground open and jump inside. "Allow me to explain it to you." He steps closer. I feel rooted to the ground, aware that he is now closer than I would have liked. He takes my bruised hand, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance as he assesses the level of injury. "You are now bound to me in a master-servant relationship. You can't disobey direct orders from me. Your limbs and veins will fight you, and if you force it," his eyes meet mine, golden and devoid of emotion, "your blood would slowly flow backward, giving you a very long and interesting death." I stare at him in shock.It can't be.He was only trying to scare
-ZOYA-I stare down at my wrists, mind replaying Ragnar's almost gentle movements as he wrapped a bandage over the cut while I stared at him, unable to think. The room is empty but still feels cold, like it couldn't quite shake off the presence of the monster that was just in it. "Bastard." My hands curl into a fist. Just what the hell was he? I grab the knife he kept on the table. It feels colder now. The same weapon that just cut through my skin. My hand trembles slightly as I strap it to my belt.I still can't shake away the fact that I was so powerless. That was what scared me. Not the deal, not his closeness. "I need to get away from here, fast!' I mutter to myself, but even as the thought crosses my mind, a vein in my hand tingles. I clutch my wrist, gritting my teeth through the pain. What was happening to me?I can't show weakness. No, not again. Somehow I have to find a way out. I have to survive. Stumbling out of the room, I follow the faint light coming from the end of
-ZOYA- "Bogus! That girl is a liar and a spy. You must be one of our enemies that she's conspiring with." Castellan steps forward, jabbing his index finger at the stranger. His golden eyes droop with boredom. No one sees him move, but with a flick of his wrist, the representative of the Blackthorn family is thrown several meters into the air, slamming into the wall, and the scythe embeds itself in the wall, just above him as though to say, you could have lost your neck just now. I gulp, goosebumps rising on my skin. Why is he standing up for me? More importantly, what could he want from me? "Does anyone else have an objection?" He asks casually. Alpha Xander steps back, his eyes wary. "What the hell are you?" The stranger grins, the angle of the sunset lighting a part of his face, making his grin look sinister. "I go by many names. But you can call me Ragnar Thorne." Alpha Xander stiffens, his face going pale, like he recognizes the name, and more glaringly, fears it. "