chapter 5

I jolted awake to bright sunlight flashing through the tall arched window, the golden light cutting across my face like a blade. My heart slammed against my ribs. For a disoriented second I just lay there, breathing hard, body locked in the leftover terror of the dream.

Then I checked myself—wrists first, then the rest of me—with frantic, shaking hands.

Oh my God.

It had only been a dream.

Lucian hadn’t touched me last night. Thank God.

I flexed my wrists again, almost not believing it. They weren’t bound the way they had been in the nightmare—no restraints, no phantom heat of his hands. Still, the relief was short-lived. I was in a strange room. One I didn’t recognize. One that smelled faintly of cedar, expensive soap, and something darker I couldn’t name.

A woman in her late forties was already sliding the heavy curtains fully open, her movements calm and practiced. She turned toward the bed with a polite, measured smile.

“Good morning, dear. My name is Zita. I’ll be your guide while you’re here. Alpha Lucian has assigned me to look after you, so if there’s anything you need, just ask. I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

I stared at her, stunned. The words settled over me like ice water.

He had actually kidnapped me.

That bastard.

What the hell did he want from me? And why—why—had I dreamed about him in that way when I didn’t even like him? When the thought of him still made my skin crawl with anger and something far more confusing?

“Hello, dear? Are you all right?” Zita asked gently, stepping closer.

“Huh? Yes.” I cleared my throat, forcing my voice steady. “I’m okay.”

“Alright. Everything you need is in this room. Your clothes are in the closet. There are towels and toiletries in the bathroom. If there’s anything else you think you might need that isn’t here, just let me know and we’ll fix it.”

“Wait—what time is it?”

“It’s nine in the morning, ma’am.”

“No, no. Call me Eleanor, please.”

“Alright, Eleanor.” Her smile brightened a fraction, as if the correction pleased her.

“Where is Lucian?”

“You mean Alpha Lucian?”

“Yes. Where is he?”

“He’s in a meeting right now with the elders.”

“Elders?” I frowned. I knew the word, but something about the way she said it made it sound different. “What does that mean?”

“When the elders gather, it usually means something serious is being discussed.” She studied me for a moment before continuing. “I can see you don’t know our ways yet. Don’t worry—I’ll teach you everything you need to know so you can understand. But first, take a nice, warm shower and get dressed. Your food will be ready by the time you’re done.”

With that, she gave a polite nod and left the room, closing the door softly behind her. The quiet click of the latch felt final.

I sat up slowly and looked around.

The room was large and elegant—far too beautiful for someone who had been taken against her will. Soft cream walls glowed beneath the morning light, while a massive four-poster bed dominated the space, its dark silk sheets still tangled from my restless sleep.

I slipped my bare feet onto the thick, patterned rug and slowly climbed out of bed. For a moment, I simply stood there, gathering myself before looking around again.

A sleek black closet stood against one wall, while a writing desk sat neatly in the corner, its surface empty except for a single silver pen. Everything looked expensive. Carefully chosen. Almost too perfect.

I walked across the room toward the full-length mirror and stopped in front of it.

I was still wearing my new soft lingerie, the fabric slightly wrinkled from sleep. For several long moments, I simply stared at my reflection, searching for something I wasn't sure I wanted to find.

Do I actually look beautiful? Beautiful enough that someone would want to be with me?

I took a deep breath. If I did, someone would have asked me out by now. But no one ever had. For so long I had been by myself… and it was fine. I was doing just fine. Because—

I wrinkled my nose as a different thought interrupted the spiral.

“God, I stink,” I muttered, catching the scent of my own skin—sweat, fear, and the lingering traces of yesterday. “I need a shower.”

I opened the bathroom door and stepped inside.

It was like something out of a fairytale. Soft marble floors cool beneath my feet. A freestanding claw-foot tub sat beneath a wide window, sunlight already spilling across the water-ready porcelain. Dual rain showers waited on the opposite wall. Shelves lined with glass bottles of oils and soaps glittered in the light, their contents the color of amber, pale green, and soft lavender. The entire space smelled faintly of lavender and clean water—calm, expensive, and utterly at odds with the chaos in my chest.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, still trying to understand how my life had changed so completely overnight.

Lucian was meeting with elders about something serious.

I had no idea what that meant yet.

But I was going to find out.

I took a deep breath, quickly slipped out of my lingerie, and stepped toward the bathtub. After adjusting the temperature and filling it with warm water and a few drops of the scented oil on the shelf, I sank down slowly.

The heat wrapped around me at once, seeping into every tight muscle and easing the tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying. For a brief moment I felt almost calm.

Then it hit me.

Miya.

My wolf.

That voice from the dream.

She had said I was a werewolf—that I needed to awaken her if I ever wanted real strength. Everything about it felt strange and impossible. I had never imagined a day would come when I would feel this lost, this confused.

Just the word werewolf sent a cold shiver down my spine every time it formed in my mind.

My thoughts kept drifting back to that terrible afternoon—Lucian and my father changing right in front of me. The claws. The glowing eyes. The blood. How was I supposed to look past that? It had been the first time I had ever seen anything so unnatural, and I had prayed it would be the last.

My father was gone. The one person who might have been able to explain what was happening to me was dead. He had always been a gentle, book-loving man who told me werewolves were nothing more than stories—creatures that existed only in the pages of books.

Watching him transform had been the single worst moment of my life. And now, I couldn’t stop wondering how long he had been lying to me. How many secrets had he kept from me? How many truths had he carried with him to the grave?

I didn’t want to be a werewolf.

I didn’t want to awaken Miya.

Yet in the dream I had felt her sadness as clearly as my own. For a few seconds I had sensed the bond between us—thin, fragile, but real. And some small, lonely part of me wanted to hear her voice again.

God. I must be losing my mind.

I pushed myself deeper into the water, lowering my entire body until it closed over my head. I held my breath, forcing myself to stay beneath the surface as the silence swallowed me whole.

At first, there was nothing.

Then faint whispers began to rise—soft, overlapping voices I couldn’t make out. They grew louder and sharper, twisting into distant screams that echoed inside my skull. My lungs burned, begging for air, but I refused to surface.

Suddenly, one voice broke through the chaos—clear, urgent, and desperate.

“You must awaken your wolf!”

The voice echoed through my mind.

“You need me!”

Awaken me!