Chapter 3

A harsh ray of sunlight pierced the shadows of the room, landing squarely on my face. My eyelids fluttered open, stinging as the light dug into them like a blade.

Groaning, I raised a hand to shield my eyes, trying to block out the overwhelming brightness. My body felt like a pile of bricks—heavy, immobile, and aching all over.

"Where am I?" I muttered, the words rough in my throat, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings.

I tried to stand, but my legs seemed not to be working. I could barely bring myself to sit down, given the amount of pain it took. I couldn't remember anything that happened, and it seemed I might be lost too.

"You're up early," a thin voice echoed, calling upon me. Motioning in the direction of the sound, I could see a fair lady in a blue uniform walking towards me. She was far more beautiful than I am, and I bet she could also wolf out.

"Where am I? Did Mike send you?" I growled, moving backwards in fear.

"Mike? No one by that name brought you here," she said, her voice steady but soft. "This is the Lycans Tavern in the southern province. You’re safe for now."

"What happened? How did I get here?" I kept on asking, hoping she would be able to put a stop to my anxiety.

"I don't know anything about that. All I can say is that you were brought here by the Lycan Prince, Kelvin Alfred," she responded while checking my blood pressure and other vital information needed.

"I can't move my legs," I said, breaking the sudden silence in the room.

"About that, you would be fine after I inject you with this serum. You should be thankful you were brought here in time; you probably wouldn't survive if you were brought in a minute later," she explained.

I had 32 stitches all over my body, and I could barely feel my legs. I never knew the weak suffered bigger losses.

After I had been injected with the serum, I slowly began to recover my legs. I could walk again but for a limited period. Being a weakling meant you healed slower and got hurt far more than everyone else. The pain and agony attached.

"I guess I'm just too powerful to be seen." A male voice threw me off balance. The nurse had a kind of smile on her face as she watched me stagger towards her.

"How did he show up here?" I asked, stunned by his sudden emergence. He was pretty strong, judging from his aura and his physique.

"Show up? He was right by your side the whole time. He's the only reason you're alive right now. Show your appreciation, would you?" She pushes me right back to him. It is quite unprofessional because victims are supposed to be cared for like children.

"You seem to be having a hard time. Why is that darling?" his voice deep and dominating. I couldn't help my thoughts upon hearing him call me darling. Who the hell did he think he was to be able to call me darling? He is bold.

“Don't call me darling," I snapped, my voice sharp with irritation. I took a step back, heart pounding in my chest. There was something about his presence—powerful, commanding—that made it hard to stay calm.

"I can call you whatever I want as long as you are in my territory," he let out, moving towards me like he was about to launch an attack.

"What gives?" I asked, moving backwards. I didn't want to die twice before finally heading to the afterlife.

He had a grin on his face and a paper in his right arm as he approached me. From my history class, the paper in his hands was one used for contracts—slave contracts, to be precise.

"Sit down, will you?" he said almost immediately. I could feel his cold breath as he shrugged me off. I moved quietly to the bed, and with a thud, I landed on the bed.

"What do you want with me?" I asked, knowing what all men wanted when they hoarded their eyes on ladies. He smiled for a few minutes before handing me the paper. A wave of fright crawled up to me as I read the content of the paper.

“This is an offer," he said, his grin widening. "And I expect you to consider it carefully."

 I stared at the paper, my heart thundering in my chest. A slave contract. It was exactly what I’d feared. But why was he offering it to me? Did he think I was desperate enough to accept?

"You want to train me for what?" I asked as I read the content written on the paper.

"When I found you, you were on the brink of death. Normally, the animals there would have pounced and feasted on your flesh, but for some reason, they all just watched you from a distance. You must be really special to pull that off," he explained. Those words were kind of harsh but fluttering.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I am not special. I can't even hold a spoon properly, and you're stating that I'm special. What a joke!" I giggled softly.

"You have no idea what you are into. I'm offering you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be strong, and here you are laughing it all up," he flinched.

"Lifetime opportunity? You're just rubbing it in my face that I'm weak. That's what everyone around me does, and you are no exception.". I declared.

"I am the Lycan Prince of the Southern Tavern; you have no right to object," he stated, moving closer. His aura grew stronger and I couldn’t feel my legs no more.

"The name is Rachael Snyder.” I tried escaping, but he pulled me right back, slamming me onto the bed.

I could see the fury in his red eyes as he growled. I tried moving backwards, but I fell right onto my back. As I was about to rise back up, he pinned my hands onto the bed.

Shocked by his actions, I tried moving my legs, but they were also held down in the middle of his. I was helpless in his grip, and no one could save me if he decided to kill me right here. That's how ruthless the rumours say he is.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. My pulse raced, and I could feel the pressure of his hold tightening. "Kiss me," I commanded, my voice low.

A rush of panic shot through me, but I couldn’t move. I was trapped, his eyes holding mine in a way that made my heart beat faster—and not in a good way.