The next day Chilli POV 'So much for a good night's sleep', I think to myself squinting at my bedside clock. Three-thirty am. We exhausted ourselves after round four I think it was, and conked out pretty quickly. Now a sickly feeling forms in my stomach at the thought of what this day brings. I stare at the seconds ticking by hoping it will help me drift back off to sleep before this nauseating feeling settles. My eyes begin to feel heavy as Elias moves in the bed next to me and rolls over, pulling me in close. I purr in his arms as everything goes dark and peaceful as I return to the land of dreams.When I reawake at a more reasonable hour, I strangely feel perfectly rested, like I've slept for a week. Sitting up and staring out the window at the beautiful sunny day, it feels like any other day, not the day I'm to stand in front of the packhouse and make my father submit to me. I inspect my hands as I turn them over in front of me, it feels crazy, like

Taking a deep breath, I step forward, calming myself, preparing myself. "Logan Burnes, kneel and submit," alpha Sam commands but Logan stands firm, unmoving, "Logan, please willingly submit," but still he stands, unwavering. Sam steps onto the lower step and leans in closer to my father to speak as quietly as possible so only we can hear him, "Logan, submit or you will be made to." To which my father chuffs, making a snorting sound of disbelief. "Fine." Sam growls, "you leave me little choice," straightening up and retaking his place with us, he nods to me and as I step forward again my father laughs. Laughs at me, at the premise I can make him do anything let alone submit. His humour sparks a reaction, as I feel the fire burn inside of me, feeling it grow and expand as it travels along and through my veins, coating my nerves, burning, fueled by my disappointment in him, my anger at his actions, at his disrespect towards me and mine. I fight to control the fire from consuming me, as

Chilli POV "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen," I coo, rocking this bundle of joy in my arms, "yes you do, my little angel," kissing my baby's forehead so softly, so gently, it probably feels like a feather brushing against her delicate skin. She looks up at me and smiles, her little face full of joy and happiness at seeing her mummy. 'You are mine, all mine and I'm never letting you go,' I think to myself, 'I will fight for you, die for you, kill to protect you, my little angel.' She looks so much like me at that age, and her eyes are like mine but also Elias's. She is perfect. As I lose myself in the cuteness of her features, in the love I have for her, the ground starts to shake around us. I clutch her close to my chest, fear and the need to protect her spiking, stinging my nerves, looking around as my surroundings vibrate viciously and crack, sending dust up into the air. I cough as I'm bumped up and off of my seat, falling forward onto the floor. I land on my knee

Days or maybe even weeks pass and Pauline stops by every few days to feed and hydrate me, although what she gives me I wouldn't classify as completely edible. These deliveries of substance aren't given without a price, without her torment. I've noticed the more pleasure she gets from watching me suffer and squirm, the more food and water I get. It is like a fucked up reward system. So I swallow my pride and play the game, the more I play along and make it seem like she is getting to me, the more I get. 'This is for you, my angel.' I think each time. The jokes on Pauline anyway, she thinks it's real, she thinks it is working. I have to fight the urge to laugh and giggle at her sometimes, or I'd give it all away. I have to laugh, if I don't, I think I might just cry.One of the days after she'd thrown the smallest disposable water bottle I'd ever seen at me, and dished out some verbal abuse disguised as a mind game. Taking a drink, I think at myself, 'Drink up little one,' to which th

Now I know, now I know he is here! Elias is alive and here somewhere. I heard him, I heard him howl, I heard his pain. There is hope again, I have hope again. I just wish there was a way I could communicate with him to let him know I am here, that I am okay, well, alive. Shit, I didn't know what had happened to him or where he was. I hoped and wished he would be out there, safe, and searching for me, not locked away from me, like me, with her. What is she doing with and to him? Mind games? Definitely. But doubtful they are anything like mine. Okay, focus, how am I going to let him know I'm here too? I can't talk to him, but maybe I can send him some sort of message, but how? I need something, someone who has contact with both of us .... shit, Pauline! But how? It's not like I can give her a note to pass on to him or hide it on her, plus I don't have anything to write on or with. Think Chilli, think. As I run my fingers through my hair, I feel something wet. Pulling my hand away