Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

I move around the room, my heart pounding in my chest. I still can't believe the reality of the situation. It's not sinking in. Not yet. When I turn to face him, he's emotionless, cold.

"Goodnight, Aurora." He says while walking toward the heavy door while a key dangles from his fingers.

The sight of that key makes my heart sink further. I open my mouth to retort, to plead, but he's already stepping out of the room, leaving me alone in this cold, empty cell. The door slams shut behind him and I flinch.

I'm alone, truly alone.

I turn away from the door, accepting my fate and without wasting another moment, I slip under the sheets, hoping they'll warm me up. My hand reaches into my pocket where I've my phone. It's still there. Surprisingly. I waste no time in calling Liora, but by the time I've dialed her number, I notice there's no connectivity here.

Not in the fucking tower.

I jump off the bed and step closer to the window with my phone in my hand tight. Still nothing. My head turns hot. I walk around the room, looking for any signal, but there's none. Not enough to make a call.

"Of course," I mutter to myself and groan. "Of course, there's no signal here."

I'm trapped, all alone with my cruel mate and there's nothing changing that. It's my fate, it's written and I'm doomed.

Frustrated, I throw my phone on the bed and it bounces on the mattress a few times before landing on the pillow. I grit my teeth, my fists clenched at my sides while I pace around the room several times. My eyes catch a few things, spots of blood, more iron rings, and some shackles tossed on the ground in the corner.

The sight of them makes my stomach churn.

Who was he keeping in here?

I reach down to pick up one of the shackles, feeling its cold, rough surface against my skin. Suddenly, the room doesn't feel as oppressive, and the chains are not as threatening. They are just objects, not my fate.

I look out the window again. It's high up, barely reachable, and covered in thick bars. I can see the night sky outside, the stairs twinkling and the moon fading as the sun's going to shine soon enough.

Just like that, the worst night of my life is going to be over.

But how can I sleep here? Not knowing if my mother has completely healed or not? What if she hasn't? My mate's a hybrid, not a vampire—not entirely. How did he become one, to begin with? Vampires and werewolves can't breed together, at least that's what I've always been told.

The idea makes my head spin, but I push the confusion aside. Now isn't the time for pondering about my mate's origins.

From the corner of my eyes, I see something on the dark wall near the door. I hurry near it and narrow my gaze, finding carvings on the wall. They are random shapes, numbers, and tallies. Could it be from another prisoner?

My brows furrow and I sit down on the ground with a flashlight in my hand. My fingers trace over the cravings, they are deep but old.

Years old.

They go all the way near to the handle of the door. Just at the bottom, there's a name, barely readable from years of wear and tear.

Zade.

There's another name next to 'Zade' but that has been wiped, drawn over. There are a few numbers near the name and some drawings that I can't understand. I sit there for a moment, my mind spinning with thoughts.

Who's Zade? Another prisoner? Or is it my mate's name?

Letting out another heavy breath, I rise up from the ground and head to the bed. The sheets are warm, clean as they smell like laundry. I get under them and lay there for the rest of the night. As the night gives way to morning, I find my eyelids growing heavy. The last thing I see before drifting off to sleep is the streaks of morning sun filtering through the barred window, casting a soft glow over the room.

"Morning, mate."

I jolt awake, my heart pounding in my chest. The sound of his deep voice sends a shiver down my spine and I quickly rub the sleep out of my eyes.

It's him, my mate, walking in from the large door. There's a lot of light in the room now as the sun's at its peak. I don't know what time it is or how long I had been sleeping for but it feels like it wasn't enough.

I'm disturbed and it takes me a moment to gather my thoughts.

My hands go over my eyes again and I look at him. He's tall, masculine with broad shoulders that are hidden under his plain black t-shirt. The fabric clings to his muscular frame and I can't help but stare at him. The ends of his hair are slightly wet, but the rest is dry and falls perfectly over his head and face.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, his voice dripping with amusement.

"As well as one can in a cell like this," I respond, my tone firm.

His lips curl into a slight smile, his eyes never leaving mine. "Well, I'm glad to hear that you're adjusting."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, reminding myself not to be swayed by his charm. Whatever he does can't change what he is—a selfish brute.

"Adjusting is not the same as accepting."

"You'll come to see things differently, Aurora." As my name rolls off his tongue with a sense of familiarity, I feel a shiver run down my spine.

"Do you want to eat something?"

I raise up from the bed and straighten my posture. "I want to talk to my mother and my phone isn't working up here." It takes me a moment to find my phone and as soon as I do, I pick it up from the bed before turning to him.

Something crosses over his eyes as he sees the phone in my hand. Suddenly, it's not in my hand anymore.

"You don't need to talk to anyone. It's just been a day." He takes away the phone from me and holds it.

"I do," I reach forward to grab it from him but before I can, he crushes it in his hand. I freeze, disbelief washing over me as I watch my phone crumble. The screen shatters, rendering it useless. "What is wrong with you? I just wanted to see if my mother was doing well, whether she's dying or not."

"She's not dying."

"How can you be so certain?" I question, my eyes piercing into his now.

"Because I gave her my blood and she'll heal. You don't need to talk to anyone. At least when you're here with me."

"And how long is that going to be?" I fold my arms over my chest and question, annoyance blatant in my tone.

"You're my mate—for as long as I want you to be here, you'll remain here."


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