All Chapters of The Blueblood And Her Lycan King: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Brooklyn. The first thing I register when as I become conscious, is the sharp pain in my neck. With a grunt, I try to change my position, perhaps I place my head in a wrong angle. But my restricted position causes my eyebrows to furrow and I softly part my eyes. The second thing I notice is that it's dark in here. So, it takes me some time to adjust to my heightened eyesight. The walls of the room was plain, just by the far side, water dribbles from the ceiling. There's not a gate here, no door either, and just a window that seems far from me. Plus, it's shut. This is definitely not my shared bed with Landon. Where am I?? I move to stand up, but I can't. Looking down, I'm met with chains around my waist, keeping me to a pole. My stomach drops in a hard puddle when my brain begins to pick up the clues I failed to realize from the moment my neck hurt. Glancing around, I try to think of search for any clues that will give away where I am, but the room serves me nothing. Just a pla

Brooklyn.It's been three days.Three whole days.Three freaking days that I've been locked up here with a stupid metal chain. I have been watched whenever I want to pee like I'm some fucking pup who will pee on herself and not in the WC.Every morning, before I wake up, Fiona comes to open the window and I don't know when she closes it because I always pass out before then. She feeds me once a day and I only know she adds whatever drug to keep me out.On the second day, I noticed the inside of my elbow and my wrists felt sore. I do not use it, so how? Which feeds me the conclusion; she takes my blood. So, I decided, I'm not going to eat whatever she feeds me anymore. Let's see how she keeps me alive and takes my blood.That morning —on the third day, Fiona brings in a plate of steaming pasta and despite my burning hunger, I ignore the meal. As usual, she gives me a soft smile with her stupid kind eyes. I scoff inwardly, what a pretender. “It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?” She g

Brooklyn.It's harder than I thought.I've been at it for a few hours now, yet nothing. I bite on my bruised lips as I give it one more slash with a tired breath. Panting, my hands fall on my lap with a sigh. The grumbling of my stomach reminds me that I've not eaten for almost two days and it's the longest I've gone without food in my life. I salivate my parched lips —I need water and my scratchy throat agrees with me. “Landon.” I shut my eyes and repeat, “Landon.” I hear footsteps approaching and my eyelids snap open. My breath picks up and I puff out my hair. Sitting up, I make sure my head covers the work I've been doing in order not to get caught. The door slides down and they ascend the steps. I try to level my breathing before he shows. To my surprise, he looks worried.“Fiona isn't home.” Rushing over, he knees beside me and picks up the chains, unlocking it. I watch with wide, panicked eyes. “What are you doing?”He barely glance up at me as he mumbles, “we should not ha

Brooklyn.Fiona’s —with eyes still and open— body crashes on me. My anger satiates for a bit, and what I just did crashes on me next. I scream, pushing her off me with a scramble. I pull my legs to my chest, my hands going around them. Without realizing, I bring my hands to cover my strangled cries, but when the horrid scent of her blood inflicts my nostrils, I scream. Gawking, my hands begin to shake as I stare at them. My gaze blurs, and I blink multiple times. Oh, goddess… what have I done?What have I done??What have I done???The last look lingers in her eyes. The raw fear when my claws went around her bone and the gasp when I tore it out. They haunt me. It’s evident on her face. Not being able to stare at it anymore, I let my head fall on my knees, bloodied hands going around me in a protective shield as I rock myself into oblivion. “I killed someone,” I whisper. “I killed someone.” It is my new worship song. I become so lost in it that I have no idea when someone waltzes

Brooklyn.This has to be the best sleep I’ve had in four days.If it were up to me, the days of sleep lost would be repaid first—but the food lost takes priority. Landon must have cleaned me up, because there’s no blood on me. And my hair is back to its natural state.What I do wish, however, is to go back home. I wish to see or speak to no one. I want to be alone. I’ve been starved for three nights—what’s one more morning?While brushing, my eyes catch my reflection. My eyes have lost their vibrant color and my cheeks have sunken. I’m not as chubby as I used to be—and I hate that. I hate how I look right now. Spitting out the foamy substance from my mouth, I brush my tongue, then rinse, gargle, and rinse again.I grip the counter, my knuckles turning white from how hard I’m holding onto it. My clavicles are prominent, and the spot where they meet is sunken. Gosh, I dislike how I look right now. With a sigh, I look away and step back from the mirror.Just as I take another step toward