Chapter 3: Little Wolf

I had stopped counting the days.

At first, I tried.

I scratched tiny marks into the stone wall beside my bed whenever I woke. But after a while, even that became pointless.

There was no sunlight in my room.

No visitors.

No news from the kingdom.

Only the same four walls, the same heavy chains around my wrists, and guards who barely looked at me when I spoke.

I was hungry.

Not the ordinary kind of hunger I had known before.

This was different.

It gnawed at me from the inside, leaving my body weak and my head heavy.

I had lost weight. My skin had grown pale, and even standing for too long made my vision blur.

"Water."

The guard outside my door didn't move.

"Please."

Nothing.

I lowered my head against the wall.

I had been a prince once.

People had bowed when I entered a room.

Now I had to beg for water.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Silas had taken everything from me.

My title.

My freedom.

My future.

And apparently, even my dignity.

I was beginning to wonder how long I would survive in Rose Manor.

Then, one afternoon, I heard shouting.

My head lifted.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor.

More than usual.

Heavy footsteps.

Chains dragging against stone.

I slowly pushed myself upright.

"What is going on?" I called.

No answer.

The sound grew closer.

Then the doors downstairs opened.

I heard someone struggle.

A growl followed.

Not human.

My senses sharpened immediately.

A werewolf.

I hadn't seen one this close in years.

I moved toward the doorway as far as my chains allowed.

The guards dragged someone into the manor.

He was young.

Younger than I expected.

His wrists were locked in thick iron shackles, and another chain was wrapped around his waist. His clothes were torn, dirty, and soaked with blood.

His dark hair fell messily over his forehead.

Blood ran down the side of his face.

Yet he was still fighting.

One of the guards shoved him forward.

The boy stumbled but caught himself before falling.

"Move."

The werewolf snarled.

The guard struck him across the back.

He dropped to one knee.

But he didn't stay there.

Slowly, painfully, he stood again.

His eyes were bright with fury.

Defiant.

Even covered in blood and chained like an animal, he looked at the guards as though he would rather die than submit to them.

Interesting.

I stared at him.

Then I smelled it.

Blood.

Fresh blood.

My throat tightened.

My fangs pressed painfully against my gums.

I hadn't fed properly in days.

I looked away.

No.

I wouldn't.

I wasn't some starving animal.

But the smell followed me.

Warm.

Rich.

Tempting.

The guards dragged the werewolf farther into the manor.

He suddenly turned his head.

Our eyes met.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

His expression hardened.

Mine probably wasn't much better.

The guard noticed me watching.

"Keep walking," he ordered the werewolf.

They dragged him toward the lower corridor.

Something inside me reacted.

"Wait."

The guards stopped.

The werewolf looked at me again.

I stepped closer to the bars.

"Where are you taking him?"

"Not your concern, Your Highness."

Your Highness.

The title sounded almost insulting now.

I looked at the werewolf.

Then at the blood covering him.

An idea formed.

A terrible one.

But I was starving.

And apparently, Rose Manor had just delivered exactly what I needed.

I smiled faintly.

"Bring him here."

The guard frowned.

"The Vampire King didn't order—"

"I didn't ask what the Vampire King ordered."

My voice came out colder than I expected.

"I said bring him here."

The guard hesitated.

Then looked at the werewolf.

The boy was staring at me with pure suspicion.

A few moments later, they unlocked the door and shoved him inside.

He stumbled forward.

The door slammed shut behind him.

I studied him.

He studied me.

Neither of us spoke.

Then his eyes narrowed.

"You."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Me?"

"You smell like blood."

I almost laughed.

"That's interesting coming from you."

His gaze dropped briefly to my chains.

Then returned to my face.

"You're a prisoner."

I hated how quickly he had noticed.

"And you're a blood-covered werewolf in shackles."

His jaw tightened.

"At least I'm not pretending I'm free."

That earned a genuine laugh from me.

It hurt my chest.

I hadn't laughed in so long.

"You have quite a mouth for someone who was just dragged in here."

"And you have quite an ego for someone locked in a cage."

I stared at him.

He stared back.

Stubborn.

I liked that.

Or maybe I was simply too hungry to care.

My gaze dropped to his injured neck.

Blood still trickled down his skin.

My fangs ached.

I needed to feed.

I looked toward the vase beside my bed.

A single rose rested inside it.

I reached for it.

The werewolf watched me carefully.

"What are you doing?"

I plucked one of the roses from the vase.

Its thorns caught against my fingers.

I didn't care.

I stepped closer.

The werewolf backed away.

"Don't."

I ignored him.

The thorn pressed against his skin.

A thin line of blood appeared.

His eyes widened.

I watched the crimson bead form.

Then I smiled.

"Perfect."

He glared at me.

"What?"

"I happen to need a blood slave."

His expression twisted with disbelief.

"You've lost your mind."

"Perhaps."

I dragged the thorn lightly across his skin again.

Another thin cut appeared.

"Be a good blood bag, and I won't kill you."

His eyes flashed.

"You think I'm going to let you feed from me?"

I stepped closer.

"You don't have much of a choice."

His breathing grew heavier.

Mine did too.

The scent of his blood filled the room.

I leaned toward the wound.

For one brief moment, I hesitated.

Then hunger won.

My fangs sank into the wound.

Warm blood rushed across my tongue.

I closed my eyes.

For the first time in days, the weakness inside me began to disappear.

The werewolf stiffened.

Blood ran down his collarbone, dripping like roses blooming across a field of snow.

I pulled

back slowly.

He glared at me.

I wiped the blood from my mouth.

And for the first time since arriving at Rose Manor, I felt alive.

I looked at the strange little wolf standing before me.

I didn't know his name.

I didn't know where he came from.

I didn't know why he had been brought to Rose Manor.

But I knew one thing.

He was mine now.

Or at least, that's what I thought.