CHAPTER 10

Madeleine's POV

Panic bit at me even before my eyes fully opened. It wasn’t a dream. This was real. I was here with them, with these… rogues. Every instinct screamed at me. Rogues had enemies. Rogues were dangerous. I had to get out. My heart hammered against my ribs, a desperate drumbeat urging flight. The rising sun cast weak shadows through the unfamiliar window, painting the room in a sickly, pale yellow. My stomach churned. Last night, in the chaos, I hadn’t given it a real thought, but now, the implications washed over me like a cold wave. I was in a den of… I didn’t even know what to call them. Exiles? Criminals? Hunters? Escape. That was the only option.

I eased myself up, testing my still-aching muscles. My ankle throbbed, but I could put weight on it. I’d walked on worse. Carefully, I crept to the door, pressing my ear against the cool wood. Silence. The house felt huge, empty. They must still be asleep. Good. This was my chance. I swallowed, the dryness in my throat making it hard.

My hand trembled as I turned the knob, letting out a soft click that sounded deafening in the quiet. I winced. No one stirred. I slipped out into a hallway that smelled faintly of pine and something musky, something wild. Every shadow seemed to hold a lurking threat. I moved with feather-light steps, past closed doors, down a wide staircase that creaked ominously beneath my weight. Each creak was a jolt of adrenaline. My breath hitched in my chest. I just needed to get out, to breathe free air.

The front door was a heavy slab of dark wood. It wasn't locked. They were confident, then. Or careless. I slid the bolt, pushing it open just enough to squeeze through. The cool morning air hit my face, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant evergreens. It was a relief, a promise of freedom.

I didn’t stop to think, didn’t look back. My legs, though weary, carried me across a wide lawn, dew soaking into my worn shoes. The edge of the forest beckoned, a dark, welcoming embrace. I pushed into the undergrowth, branches clawing at my clothes, leaves rustling loudly. I didn’t care. The deeper I went, the safer I'd be. My lungs burned, but I kept moving, adrenaline dulling the pain in my ankle, pushing me forward. Escape. Escape. Escape.

Then, a rustle. Not the frantic rustle of my own passage, but something larger, deliberate. Behind me. My blood ran cold. No, no, no. I tried to go faster, crashing through the bushes, but my injuries were catching up. A sharp pain shot through my ankle, making me stumble.

"Going somewhere, Madeleine?"

The voice. Deep. Too close. Jax. My heart leaped into my throat. He was right there, standing silently a few paces behind me, looking entirely too calm. He hadn't even broken a sweat. How had he gotten so close?

I didn’t answer, didn't stop. I tried to push through a thicket of thorns, scraping my arms. "Leave me alone," I gasped, my voice thin and reedy.

He didn’t move to grab me, didn't shout. He just started walking. Parallel to me, a few yards to my left, matching my frantic pace with an unnerving ease. The silent pursuit was worse than any chase. It was like trailing prey.

"You're not going to get far," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

"Watch me," I snapped, my lungs burning. My body screamed at me to stop. My vision started to blur at the edges. My ankle screamed. Each step was agony, but the terror of being caught, of being dragged back, was stronger. I wouldn't stop.

Then, my foot caught on an unseen root. My momentum carried me forward, and I pitched face-first into the damp earth. A cry tore from my throat. Pain exploded in my ankle, and I couldn't move. My shoulders heaved with desperate, ragged breaths. I collapsed, defeated, tears stinging my eyes.

Jax was beside me in an instant, not touching me, just looking down. "Are you done?" he asked, his voice still unnervingly calm.

"Go away," I whispered, humiliation burning hotter than my scraped knees.

"We need to get you back before you really hurt yourself." His hand reached out, not to grab me, but to simply offer. It hovered, waiting.

I flinched away. "Don't touch me!"

He sighed, a long, weary sound. Then, with a speed that startled me, he scooped me up into his arms. I gasped, a cry of protest dying in my throat. He held me effortlessly, my struggles doing nothing to dislodge me.

"Put me down!" I thrashed, my fists beating uselessly against his chest. "Let me go! I’ll scream! Do you hear me? I’ll scream!"

He didn't respond, just held me tighter, walking. My head swam with exhaustion and anger. I was furious. Utterly, incandescently furious. He was treating me like a child, like a sack of laundry. This wasn't how you treated a prisoner, I thought, secretly puzzled by his bizarre patience, by the fact he hadn’t just dragged me the moment he caught me. It was strange, unsettling.

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded, my voice raw. "Why won't you just let me go?"

He finally spoke, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "Because you're hurt, Madeleine. And because you don't understand."

"Understand what? That you're holding me captive? That I'm with rogues?" My voice rose to a near shout.

He stopped, turning to look at me, his eyes dark and intense. "If we wanted to make you a prisoner, Madeleine, you would have been tortured for information long ago. You would be chained in a cellar. You would not have been given a bed to sleep in, fresh clothes, medicine. You would not be able to walk freely through the house, even to open the front door and walk out." His voice was low, steady. "We never hurt you. We never would."

The words hit me. He was right. Why *hadn't* they? My mind reeled, trying to reconcile his words with my terror. It didn't make sense. Everything I knew, everything I felt, contradicted it. Yet, the way he spoke, the sincerity in his eyes… I looked away, confused. My anger flickered, replaced by a strange uncertainty.

"Then why can't I leave?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "If I'm not a prisoner, why won't you just let me go?"

His gaze softened slightly. "Because you're injured. Because you'd die out there. And there are things you need to know, things we need to tell you, before you make any decisions."

I scoffed. "What could you possibly need to tell me?"

"The truth. About us. About you."

The last two words resonated within me in a way I couldn't explain. *About you.* Could they know something? Something I didn't? A tiny, unfamiliar stirring woke inside me, deep in my core. It was faint, a mere flutter, but it was there. My wolf.

I hadn't felt her in years. Not since… I pushed the memory back. She had been silent, dormant, a hollow ache in my soul. But now, in the presence of this strange man who held me so gently, who spoke of truth and understanding, she stirred.

*He's telling the truth,* she pulsed, a warmth spreading through me, a quiet affirmation I hadn't realized I was starved for. Her voice was faint, a whisper across a vast distance. But it was there. She was there.

My breath hitched. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the sudden surge of emotion. My wolf. After all this time. What did it mean? What was happening?

Jax must have felt my sudden stillness. "Madeleine?" he asked, concern etching his features.

I opened my eyes, looking at him, truly looking. For the first time, I saw not a captor, but something else. Something complicated. Something ancient. His eyes held a flicker that mirrored the stirrings within me.

"My wolf," I whispered, the words trembling on my lips. "She's… she's awake."