5 Drawing The Lines

Dam’s Keep, DamHale.

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“You’re nothing but my captor, and I promise you, Adolphus,” Seraphina hissed, her voice steady with venom, “there’s nothing beautiful that could ever come of this.” She nodded as if sealing her words. “Nothing.” Her lips parted to let the firm declaration linger in the air.

Before she could even exhale, Adolphus gripped her jaw with a swiftness that startled her, pulling her face closer to his.

Her breath caught in her throat as she gasped, but she held her glare firm, even as her heart betrayed her with a skipped beat.

The tension between them was electric, crackling like a distant storm.

His breath brushed her skin as he leaned in, running his nose along the curve of her cheek in a gesture both possessive and primal.

She shivered involuntarily, the nearness of him making her pulse race.

He inhaled deeply, his lips curling into a soft, knowing smirk as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

“Butterfly,” he murmured, his voice low and intoxicating, “you are mine, and I own the most beautiful one of them all.” His molten gaze softened, becoming almost tender as he held her stare.

“Everything beautiful is already mine. There’s nothing more I ask but for you to see that too.”

She opened her mouth, defiance ready on her tongue, “I would nev—”

His long finger silenced her, swiping across her lips in a motion so gentle it belied the dominance in his gesture.

Her words died in her throat, replaced by the fluttering chaos of her thoughts.

“You are too stubborn,” he whispered, the pain in his voice laced with something raw and unspoken.

The proximity was dizzying. Her chest rose and fell unevenly as the scent of him—earthy, warm, and undeniably him—wrapped around her like an invisible chain.

Her anger warred with a strange, unwelcome pull that made her weak in ways she hated. His closeness was overwhelming, his presence a magnetic force she couldn’t escape.

‘Why do I feel so much?’ she mentally groaned.

Every nerve in her body screamed for space, yet every fiber of her being seemed to betray her, leaning into the heat of him.

Her vision blurred for a moment as her heart pounded in her ears. The world beyond them faded, the bonfire’s glow and the music becoming mere whispers in the background.

All that remained was him—his touch, his scent, his voice invading every corner of her mind.

“Now sit there like a good little butterfly and enjoy the evening,” he said coldly, his tone cutting through her haze like a blade.

Her teeth clenched in defiance, but she remained rooted as he released her chin and leaned back in his seat.

His attention shifted, scanning the gathered pack, but she knew he was still watching her in his own way—waiting for her to obey.

Seraphina let out a shaky breath, her gaze flicking toward the pack before darting away. Her lungs burned as she forced herself to breathe steadily, but the air felt heavy, oppressive, as if it carried the weight of her indignation.

Though her body faced forward, her frown remained etched deeply into her expression, defiance radiating from every inch of her.

She knew Adolphus noticed it, knew he didn’t like it, and reveled in that small, stubborn rebellion.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the clearing where the pack danced and sang, their movements wild and celebratory.

Seraphina’s chest tightened as the thought struck her:

What are they so happy about?

I just lost my family.

Her nails dug into her palms, and her heart burned with the heat of her anger. And they’re celebrating? Laughing and dancing after murdering my people?

The bonfire’s flames leapt higher, licking the night air and casting flickering shadows across the faces of the revelers.

Laughter rang out, mingling with the beat of drums and haunting melodies that spoke of ancient traditions. It was a sound so full of life that it mocked her grief.

She sat rigidly, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched the scene unfold with cold detachment.

The werewolves moved with an unsettling grace, their bodies undulating in perfect harmony with the music. Their dance was primal and uninhibited, a display of unity and strength.

But to her, it was nothing but a cruel spectacle. Each laugh, each swirl of movement, was a reminder of what she’d lost.

Suddenly, Adolphus stood, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. His dark eyes locked onto her as he crossed the clearing with deliberate strides, his every step a display of dominance.

Seraphina shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her fingers tightening around her arms. As he stopped before her, the air between them grew heavy.

“Why do you not join the dance?” he asked, his voice low, deep, and inviting.

Her lips parted, the words bubbling up before she could stop them. “Why do you celebrate after destroying my world?”

Seraphina’s chest heaved, her breaths uneven as she struggled to keep the emotions at bay.

She wanted to maintain her composure, to pretend she was fine—anything to deceive Adolphus into lowering his guard. If he thought she had given up, she could slip away unnoticed, find a way to escape this nightmare.

But she couldn’t.

His question, laced with an infuriating calm, broke something inside her.

She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the ground. “I will not dance with you!” she yelled, her voice cracking under the weight of her anger and grief. “Do you think I could celebrate with you, with them, after everything you’ve done?”

Her lips trembled as she tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill. She couldn’t let him see her like this—weak, vulnerable.

She sniffed, her body betraying her as the ache in her chest grew unbearable. A sob bubbled up, threatening to break free, and she turned sharply, refusing to let him see her crumble.

“Damn you, Adolphus,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, and then she ran.

Her feet carried her as fast as they could across the clearing, away from the mocking laughter and the infernal music, away from him.

She didn’t care where she went, as long as it wasn’t here. The pack building loomed in the distance, its shadowy silhouette against the firelit backdrop.

Without thinking, she darted toward it, her vision blurred by unshed tears.

The heavy door creaked as she pushed it open, slamming it shut behind her. The silence inside was deafening compared to the chaotic revelry outside.

Her hands braced against the cool, wooden surface of the door as she pressed her forehead against it, her body trembling.

The tears she had fought so hard to contain finally spilled over, hot and relentless, streaming down her cheeks.

She bit her lip to stifle the sound, but a soft, broken sob escaped. Her legs gave way, and she slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

She wanted to be strong. She wanted to outsmart him, to bide her time and escape this cursed place.

But the weight of her loss and the cruelty of her situation pressed down on her like an unrelenting tide, threatening to drown her.

Outside, the music and laughter continued, oblivious to her anguish. And though she was alone within the confines of the pack building, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Adolphus would come after her.

He always did. And now she hated that she didn't know if she wanted that or to be left alone.