018: HALF A STONE

ARYA

"I'd rather die," I spat, keeping my gaze trained on him. He smirked. Then he wrapped his fingers around my neck, his eyes darkening. In the depths of his eyes, all I saw was a promise of everlasting torture. Even if he was my fate, I would fight him with all my might. His grip tightened, and I gasped, clawing at his hands. My claws dug into his flesh. Still, he didn't flinch as blood trickled down his wrists.

My vision blurred as my lungs strained for air. I could barely hold myself up. But I wanted to fight. I would fight until my very last breath.

Just when I thought I would pass out, he released me, and I crashed to the ground, my limbs askew. I coughed and gasped, clutching at my throat as the air rushed into my lungs.

Like a predator toying with its prey, he squatted in front of me, reaching out to brush my hair away from my face. "You just had to humiliate yourself, Arya," he muttered, caressing my face with his fingers. I jerked away from him, but he was faster. He gripped my chin, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him.

"Answer this question," he said, and I glared at him, my insides burning with bitterness and rage.

"Fuck off," I spat hoarsely, and he released a heavy sigh. "You don't seem to care about your poor sister's life."

My heart dropped.

"Fine! I'll talk. Just don't—" I swallowed, tears blurring my vision.

His fingers dug into my chin. "Don't what?"

"Don't hurt her," I mumbled, and he pulled away from me, rising to his feet.

"Did your alpha really send you to me because of the moonstone?" He asked, and I stiffened.

What the hell did he mean by that?

"Answer me," he droned. The amusement in his voice was gone. Only cold cruelty remained. He meant business now. I wasn't sure which answer would grant me a pardon. But I knew that if I didn't give him a response, I would only be worsening the situation.

"Yes," I blurted out, and he watched me in silence for a moment. My heart raced in my chest as I awaited his reaction. If I'd said no, he probably wouldn't have believed me.

"Arya," he suddenly said, and I peeked up at him through the curtain of hair hanging over my face.

"You can't let others use you for their own selfish purposes," he said and bent over, scooping me into his arms in bridal style.

My entire body went rigid, and if he noticed it, he didn't show it. He took me to my room and laid me down on my bed. I stared at him as he tucked me in, his eyes heavy and hooded.

He could've just asked me to walk away.

"Go to sleep," he said, patting my hair. I gritted my teeth, confusion stirring inside of me.

When he straightened and headed towards the door, I attempted to sit up. But he halted, turning his head to look at me.

"Don't push me."

Those three words were spoken in a calm voice, but they held the weight of a crushing blow. So I lay still. If I wanted to live long enough to protect my sister, I had to put up with his unreasonable commands. For now.

...

The next morning, I went through my morning routine and hurried out of my room in search of Maya. I didn't want to believe that Alpha Daxton really hurt her. Not after claiming that he didn't kill my mother. I was also frustrated about the fact that I'd slept so well after he'd left my room last night.

I should've been unable to get a wink of sleep. But damnit, I'd felt too relaxed.

My feet came to a halt when I saw a familiar figure in a wheelchair downstairs.

Maya?

My heart jolted against my ribs as I rushed to her, dropping down to my knees in front of her wheelchair.

I placed a hand on her knee, scanning her face for any signs of maltreatment.

"Are you alright? You're not hurt anywhere, are you?" I asked, and her expression stayed blank.

"I'm fine."

"Maya, why are you back here? I thought something had happened to you," I croaked. This time she didn't counter me. Something melted in her blue eyes, her gaze softening.

"Mason took me to a hotel—"

I froze. "A hotel!"

She pressed a hand over my mouth, her brows knitted in a deep frown. "Nothing happened. Don't panic."

"This place isn't safe for you. You have to leave—"

She cut me off, her eyes darkening. "But it's safe for you? I didn't ask you to get sold for my sake."

"Maya—"

"No, listen to me. My crippled legs don't make me weak, Arya. I can't just sit back and watch you chase after revenge on your own."

I stared at her, a sudden wave of weariness washing over me. Maya was only a few minutes younger than me. But sometimes, she feels like an older sister.

She reached out to squeeze my hands, her gaze locked with mine.

"I saw that monster that night. Mum told me to hide..." she croaked, and tears pricked my eyes.

Only now do I realize that a part of me had been swayed by the tribrid's words, enough to wonder if he'd actually killed my mother.

But now, it was clear as day. There was a witness.

There was no need to hold back now.

"I can't sit back and let that monster live," Maya told me, and I gripped her hands, a new fire of determination burning in my chest.

"I'll help you. We'll do it together. Together, Maya," I said to her, and she nodded.

...

A little while later,

"What's your plan? I noticed you've got something going on with Mason," I said to my sister. I was moving her down the passageway towards the garden.

"I plan to use him against his brother," she replied, and I smirked.

"How so?"

She sassily flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"I might not be a seductive femme fatale, but I can play a helpless damsel. And Mason? He's a sucker for it."

I chuckled.

"Come to think of it, you've always been good with guys," I pointed out, and she shrugged.

"It's a natural talent."

I stopped pushing the wheelchair when I realized that we were in front of Alpha Daxton's study. If only I could barge in and kill him.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. I had a very deadly poison in my arsenal after all. And eventually, he would die a painful death.

Just as I was about to move, my sister turned to look at me with a look of disapproval on her face.

'That's his study, right?' She asked through our mind link, and I nodded.

'Let's go. We can't hover around here. He might be inside his study,' I responded.

Maya shook her head, gesturing at me to stay silent, her wheelchair coming to a halt. Standing right outside Alpha Daxton's study was definitely a bad idea. What if he suddenly opened the door and stepped out? He would catch us in the act. And I really didn't want that. I could take any punishment, but for my sister, it was different.

So, I attempted to grab the handles of her wheelchair to move her down the corridor. But then, I heard Daxton's voice from inside his study.

"I still don't understand why he would want the moonstone."

"You're right, it's strange. Even if he wanted it because of the amount of power it possesses, he would need a stone keeper to activate it," a familiar voice responded. I recognized it right away.

It was Mason's.

"I wonder if he knew which of the previous stone keepers' daughters had the mark on them."

Maya stiffened, her grip on the armrest tightening.

"What do you mean?" Beta Mason asked.

"Arya activated the moonstone that night," I heard the alpha say to his brother.

"It means she's the new stone keeper. I doubt that she even knows that," Mason replied, and I frowned. It made sense now. That night when he'd mentioned the mark of the stone keeper, this was what he'd meant. What exactly did the mark look like? Why was it on me and not on my twin sister?

"I must find the other half of the moonstone," Alpha Daxton said, and I froze.

The other half?

Maya's bewildered gaze met mine.

Did this mean that the moonstone in his possession was incomplete?

He'd killed my mother only for half of a stone?

Rage surged in my chest, angry tears filling my eyes.

"Why? You know very well that it's the only thing that can kill you." Mason sounded upset.

Daxton released a sigh, and I heard a shuffle.

"Let go of me, Mason." His voice was tinged with exhaustion.

"Tell me, brother? Are you losing interest in Arya already? I thought you'd stopped chasing after your own death," Mason said, and I brought a hand to my mouth.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Why would he chase after his own death?

Maybe, just maybe, I still didn't know anything about this man.

"Let me see your wrists," Mason hissed, and I bit my lower lip, tense.

Why did it seem as though he was a tortured, misunderstood soul?

And worse, why did my heart ache for him, even now, when it should burn with hate?