Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ivy's heart pounded in her chest as her eyes fixated on the scorching hot knife placed menacingly before her. After enduring torment for three long days, she had been trapped within these walls, subjected to relentless torture. 

The guards, relentless in their pursuit of a confession, taunted her once again. "Are you ready to confess now?" they sneered, their voices laced with malice.

 Ivy struggled to comprehend why they believed she was the thief who had targeted the king's precious jewels. Defying her weakening voice, she mustered the strength to assert her innocence. "I didn't do it," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

 The guards' cruel laughter pierced the air. "Still denying? You haven't had enough?"

Ivy screamed as the hot knife came in contact with her skin. If she wasn't tied to a chair she would have run off but she couldn't.  "Confess to the theft and maybe, just maybe you'll be free." another guard taunted her.  Not that they needed her to confess in order to torture her anyway.

"I'm innocent" she murmured amidst tears. The hot knife came down on her skin again and she let out a piercing shriek, feeling the searing pain shoot through her body. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as tears streamed down her face. 

The cell was dimly lit, with the eerie glow of a single flickering bulb casting long shadows on the damp walls. Ivy's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and determination fueling her spirit.

She knew her fate was sealed. Whether she confesses or not, she is still going to die. But confessing was worse because that would only make Evelyn win and that wasn't going to happen.

Just when Ivy thought she couldn't endure any more agony, a faint sound reached her ears. Footsteps, growing louder and closer with each passing second. Panic coursed through her veins as she wondered if her torturers had enlisted another sadistic soul to continue their gruesome game.

With bated breath, Ivy strained her ears, trying to discern the purpose behind the approaching footsteps. The heavy sound of boots echoing through the corridors sent shivers down her spine. But as the figure finally emerged into view, her heart skipped a beat knowing more torture was to come.

"Hey!" it was another guard.  "You're needed outside. We need to set the arena for tonight," he said, his eyes shot to Ivy and a mischievous look settled, he didn’t say a word to her before he left.

As the guards with Ivy turned to her, their sinister expressions sent a chill down her spine. "I guess it's your last night here," one of them uttered, their words dripping with sadistic satisfaction. 

As they left, one by one, Ivy's heart pounded in her chest. "Last night?" she whispered to herself, her heart pounding in her chest. Thoughts of a sinister conspiracy began to consume her. Had they orchestrated her demise? Was tonight the night they would end her life? 

But amidst her escalating fear, another realization dawned upon her. Could it be… was it the fortnight already? Was it already the fortnight, the ominous period that every prisoner always dreads? Whatever it may she knew if she was in the cell, there was no way she could skip through it. Panic began to consume her as she contemplated the implications of the approaching deadline.

                                    - - -

Ivy's body trembled with exhaustion and fear as she awaited her grim fate. She could still feel the searing pain etched into her battered form, inflicted upon Alpha merciless guards.

Her entire body shook with fear as the clattering of heavy boots echoed against the cold, stone walls. The looks on the guard's face told her there was no need to plead. 

Their arrival was accompanied by a gruff command, their voices oozing with authority. "Get up. It's time," one of the guards barked, their words laced with icy intimidation. Ivy knew the time had come for her to face the pack's barbaric traditions.

With trembling limbs, she rose from the frigid floor, her eyes gleaming with a mix of fear and defiance. Her body weakened from days of torture, threatened to betray her, but the fire within her remained unwavering. She had to fight, had to try to escape this monstrous fate that awaited her.

Ivy's survival instinct prompted her to run in a final act of panic. She pushed forward as the soldiers came closer, their intents visible in their harsh gazes, spurred on by a glimmer of hope. But her attempt to escape was useless. She was just one tiny girl going against three hefty men. 

The soldiers violently kicked her to the ground as they quickly and precisely stopped her from escaping. Her body erupted in pain, which clashed with the fear coursing through her veins. Her shouts, which were a mixture of agony and defiance as she struggled to escape the soldiers' tight hold, filled the air.

They carried her weight without a struggle, their strength crushing her feeble effort. Her heartbeat, a desperate cadence seeking release from the nightmare that had captured her, thudded with each step she took toward the arena.

With each second that went by, the pack's desire for blood grew as they waited. Prisoners were paraded for their sick amusement as part of a fortnightly custom that was horrific.

Male prisoners were required to fight each other until one of them died, according to the savage tradition of the Alpha, in a terrifying act of brutality and domination. Their destiny was as bleak for the female detainees. Before being destined the following day to meet their demise, they were delivered to the males of greater rank as objects of desire.

Ivy's senses were heightened with a mixture of fear and excitement as the female prisoners were brought forward. Each menacingly desire-filled glare that was cast her way weighed heavily on her.

Suddenly her body turned rigid as a smell hit her "What is that smell?" She whispered under her breath as the sudden wave of a pleasant and alluring smell attacked her nostrils, momentarily distracting her from the moment.

She looked around frantically, trying to figure out where it was coming from. The door of the show house suddenly opened and then she understood what that alluring smell was coming from.

                                  - - -

Alpha Bruce let out an exasperated sigh as he stepped out of his sleek black car. His driver had informed him that they had arrived at his destination, a place he really didn't want to be. Duty called, and he had no choice but to attend this event. With a resigned expression, he straightened his suit and made his way towards the grand palace.

As he was ushered through the opulent halls, a potent aroma cut through the stale air—a scent that stirred an undeniable recognition within him.  

Intrigued, his primal instincts took hold, propelling him forward. His search for the Alpha came to a halt, diverted by the inexplicable pull of a connection he couldn't ignore. The scent grew stronger, intertwining with the very fabric of his being.

Finally, he arrived at a seemingly ordinary door, yet the intoxicating aroma emanated from within. Unable to resist, Alpha Bruce felt a surge of anticipation and commanded that the door be opened, unaware of the events unfolding inside.

Once the door swung open, his gaze locked with Ivy's. In that fraction of a moment, worlds collided. There was a sudden surge of recognition within him, as his wolf whispered in his ear the word "mate."