Low whimpers fell from Freya’s lips the next morning. She was in pain, her whole body ached, especially her tied arms, feeling weak and sore all over.
She was wrong. The Alpha was more cruel than she thought. She wasn’t even sure she knew the extent of his cruelty. She was still chained. How she made it in that position till this morning was a mystery to her.
Her head had snapped up in hope during the two times the dungeon’s door opened since the previous night. She had hoped he would come and she would plead with him to at least let her off the chain and lay on the floor, but he never came after the one time he did.
Evening came. No food. Nobody showed.
Her vision was already blurry. At this point, she was desperate to be freed or else, death would be better than this torture Alpha Torin had subjected her to.
“Just kill me!” she screamed, her voice hoarse. “If you’re going to do it, do it! I’m done playing your sick games!”
But no one answered. Her head fell in disappointment. Maybe she would die here all by herself. No one is coming to save her.
As if on cue, she heard footsteps but she was too weak to look up or speak. She didn’t flinch. She couldn’t. But she felt another being growling within her. She didn’t know what it was. All these were strange to her, she used to be just human. A werewolf Hunter.
Drool fell from her lips and she couldn’t even feel ashamed. Her breaths were shallow, rasping like sandpaper dragged across her lungs.
She wasn’t scared of death anymore, but if she would die, she only wished she was able to take the Alpha along with her for causing her this much pain.
“Oh my goddesses, she’s dying.” The woman who just stepped in with Alpha Torin commented, scanning Freya closely with her transparent bluish lenses. She was the Alpha’s private witch.
Alpha Torin’s expression barely shifted, ignoring the strong pull he was feeling toward Freya again. “I don’t know what she is, but this much I know…She’s a threat to my kingdom, and I’m having a hard time refraining my hands from snapping her neck.”
Elira stepped forward, ignoring him, and crouching in front of Freya. Her fingers brushed Freya’s collarbone, and immediately, the witch recoiled, as if she’d touched fire.
“What in the name of the First Flame…” she hissed, her breath catching in her throat.
Torin’s brow lifted, waiting for her to say more.
Elira’s eyes bore into Freya like they could peel her apart. “This girl… she’s powerful.” She breathed in wonder.
Torin folded his arms. “I figured. But what exactly is she?” He growled with impatience.
The witch shook her head. “You don’t understand. Her power is ancient, like a product born of dusk and fire. There’s a presence inside her…it’s wild, untamed…” She grabbed her arm and accessed the Sigil.
“You will be offending the gods if you kill her. She’s a hybrid, and she’s no ordinary hybrid.” Elira informed, meaning every word she let out.
Alpha Torin’s face darkened further, his gaze flicking to Freya’s weakened and chained form again. “And you are telling me now that she’s some sort of gods’ favorite?”
“She’s a miracle.” Elira snapped, her voice trembling in wonder. She seemed way too intrigued by Freya than scared. “A dangerous one, yes. But power like this doesn’t just exist. You will need to keep your eyes on her.”
Freya’s voice cracked, barely audible as interrupted their discussion. “Please… just end it…” Torin was having a hard time acting like her scent wasn’t affecting him and driving him crazy. But he masked it so well.
Elira looked from Freya to Torin.
“Alpha, her wolf is starving for connection. It’s yearning to belong. And I’m afraid she needs to find her mate soon or she’ll combust from the inside.” She whispered urgently.
“Then bound her,” He spat.
“What?” Elira blinked. She clearly wasn’t expecting such a response.
His gaze hardened as he laid emphasis on his words. “I want her power bound. All of it.”
“But you should…”
“Do it.” His voice cut like a blade.
Elira looked stricken, she had other suggestions. “We can weaponize her, train her powe…”
“She’ll be bound. Now.” His Alpha authority tone left no room for arguments.
The witch’s face straightened. There was no going back in Alpha Torin’s words whenever he made a decision. She knew better than to drag it.
Then, with a sharp nod, she extended her hands and began chanting.
Ancient words split the air like thunder. Runes lit the cell walls in a fiery glow. The moment the spell hit Freya’s chest, she screamed. A broken, bloodcurdling sound that no human throat should’ve been able to make.
Blood gushed from her nose. Her back arched. Her chains rattled violently. Alpha Torin felt a sudden desperate pull towards her and he reached for her but quickly withdrew his hand, his own emotions shocking him at that moment. Their bond was so alive he could feel every ounce of it in his body. He jerked his head away from her, and the spell went on.
Elira faltered mid-chant, crying out as a blast of energy punched through her chest. “She’s…she’s fighting me!”
Freya’s eyes rolled back, her voice breaking into whimpers, but she didn’t stop resisting. Power surged from her like a final breath of defiance.
Elira continued, lips trembling, hands shaking as she forced the spell deeper.
With a sharp cry, the witch collapsed.
Torin crouched to the witch’s form on the floor and asked, “Was it done?”
Elira didn’t answer right away. She was on her knees, panting, staring at Freya like she was something carved from a nightmare.
“It was done,” she whispered.
*
The chains were finally removed and Freya crumpled to the ground, barely conscious. A tray was shoved toward her by Torin, containing three pieces of sliced bread and water.
Torin looked down at her frame and said, “You will be in here till I decide what to do with you” He walked away after.
Freya dragged herself to the tray and firstly chugged down the water then started devouring the bread like an animal, ravenous and wild-eyed. Then, shaking, she crawled back to the wall and let the cold cradle her.
She couldn’t comprehend what had happened earlier, but the fact that the chain was removed and she was able to eat something even though it didn’t satiate her hunger, made her feel slightly relieved. And there was something else, she didn’t feel like she had powers again. Her body felt normal, only the wolf in her was alive—Weakly.
Sleep came and she was ready to embrace it when a voice broke the tender moment.
“Hey.” Her head jerked to the side. It wasn’t Alpha Torin’s voice. This one was tender. It was the warmest voice she had heard since she met herself in the dungeon.
The male figure leaned against the bar, sharp blue eyes looking down at her. She had seen the face before but couldn’t place it. Then it clicked.
“You…”
“I’m Caleb. I never got the chance to meet you properly.” Why was he being warm to her? Are they all not the same? Beastly and heartless.
Despite herself, a low sad chuckle escaped her lips. “The cruel Alpha’s beta is here to gloat too. Are you here to toss your insult before they cut my throat?”
Her voice was weak. She just wanted to sleep and maybe… just maybe get to have a bath.
Beta Caleb’s lips twitched. “Not exactly.” Amusement reflected in his tone, but his gaze held empathy and interest. What did he want?
“Then what do you want?” she snapped, her voice barely projecting like she wanted it.
Stepping closer, and crouching to level with her weak figure on the floor, he locked eyes with her and said,
“I want to be your friend.”
I woke up to the sound of whispers just outside my door.They weren’t loud, but they didn’t need to be.The words were clear enough. “Torin’s awake.”At first, I stayed still.I just lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, and let the silence fill me.Then slowly… a smile pulled at my lips.He’s awake. Finally.My fingers brushed across the edge of the sheet, grounding me in the moment. I’d waited so long for this—for him. And now the wait was over.They probably think it was some miracle. Or that some old prophecy fulfilled itself and brought him back.But I know better.The potion of Khora never left his body. I made it for him. For us both. It was a mistake that Seraneth was able to drink from it.The Khora was mine, like he is.They don’t know what I gave up. What I remembered. What I risked.Freya doesn’t know. Poor girl. She had gone through a lot.She thinks just because Seraneth lived inside her, she had some right to Zalkhar in this life. She had right to Torin. It
Evening crawled in, slow and golden, spilling its dying light through windows of the stone chamber. And still, Freya hadn’t moved.Not to eat. Not to rest. Not even to blink long enough for sleep.Her arms ached, cradling Torin’s cold body. Her throat was raw from silent prayers. Her lips trembled, pressing every few moments to his brow as if a kiss might spark his heart back to rhythm.But his chest had not risen. Not once.His skin, once warm and bronze, had turned pale beneath the funeral linen. Someone had placed a garland of moonpetals over his collarbone. She didn’t know who. She didn’t care. She didn’t even notice when they entered and done so. She had been changing spells to wake him. Nothing had worked. Her spells had only destroyed things around her.Her entire world had shrunk to the space between his silent lips and her breaking heart.In some distant corner of her consciousness, she registered murmurs. And she had heard ‘Kiera’ Someone had whispered that she hadn’t been
The sun rose the next morning. The Twilight oack was mourning. The trio twins arrival was met with the death of a few pack members. It was said that they were attacked by rogues, and hunters unprepared. They had claimed that they came for vengeance because Torin had killed some of them. During the two times Torin had gone feral and vicious, he had killed a lot and their people were victims.Known as the strongest pack in Eryndor, Hollowvale; they had fought hard but the attackers managed to kill a few of them. They were still mourning when they arrived with the news that Torin was dead. Tyler couldn’t receive the proper welcome they had planned to celebrate his arrival with. The curse had not been lifted at the cost of nothing. It had came with its own price.Today, even the wind itself seemed reluctant to speak, brushing only lightly through the tall pines that towered around the pack’s sacred burial grounds.Inside the central hall, the atmosphere was gloomy. Elder Fenric’s voice
Their bodies scattered from the shockwave. Tyler groaned on the floor.Freya blinked open her eyes and she felt it. She could feel it—Seraneth was gone. She had left her body for her.She turned to Penelope, her sister, but Penelope only stared, saying nothing.Something wasn’t right. Fear enveloped her heart as she realized what she was feeling. She didn’t dare to look his way.Her wolf stirred desperately inside her. The bond…she couldn’t feel it anymore. She couldn’t feel him. And that could only mean one thing.Her heart… slowed.And slowly, she turned.Tyler stood across from her. Blinking and confused.Then her eyes landed on the figure still on the floor and she shuddered.Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran to him.She dropped to her knees.“Torin?” she whispered.No answer.She pressed her ear to his chest.Nothing. This caught others attention as well.She shook him.She howled.No sound came back.“No, no…he’s alive right?” Caleb’s voice came out more like a whisp
Elira’s body was broken. She whimpered on the floor where her body now felt limp.Blood stained her mouth, the sides of her torn robes, and the sharp white of her teeth as she laughed.It was cruel and ugly like that of a psycho. Triumphant, even in defeat. Freya had her cornered as she stopped right before her, a blade of ancient spellwork that Charlotte had gifted her pulsing in her hand, while Torin stood beside her—quiet, still, brimming with fury.The battlefield around them was a war zone of shattered chains, vanished monsters, and heaving breaths. But in that moment, all eyes were drawn to Elira, because the witch looked like she had a lot to say.She looked up at Torin first.“You think you’ve won, Lycan prince?” she rasped, her voice trembling like glass about to break. “You don’t even know what you are.”Torin only stared.Freya’s breath caught.Elira’s eyes gleamed with intensity. “That cursed blood of yours—your mother kept it hidden for a reason. She begged us… begged us
“Freya,” Torin’s heart leaped.It wasn’t just Freya stepping out from the shadows—it was all three of them.Freya, Caleb, And Alice. The three had met while navigating tha path of the dark realm of Nightveil.They had been there the whole time, veiled by a silence spell Freya had invoked the moment they arrived. Only her spell could work, even Alice’s couldn’t the moment they stepped in the building. They had been hiddening and listening. Absorbing every foul, twisted confession Elira had spewed.Freya moved first.A wind blasted from her hands—not conjured by command but born of fury. A spiraling surge of raw power crashed into Elira’s chest, lifting her from the ritual stone and hurling her into the far wall like a discarded ragdoll. Her scream was cut off by the impact.The cat leapt from Freya’s arms, landing nimbly beside Torin’s chained form. Freya released a spell that destroyed Elira’s own which she used in cloaking the building to make other’s magic impotent. The building ru