[A Few Hours Later]
Evangeline woke with a sharp pain hammering through her skull. Her nose throbbed, skin still raw where the boy had punched her. She sat up slowly, groaning, and glancing around.
The room was dimly lit, curtains fluttering under the night breeze. The walls were painted in deep grays, plain but intimidating. And everything reminded her of him. That bastard Ezaar!
Memories began to replay… the crowd, the boy's punch, and then—Ezaar falling.
No. That part couldn't have been real. Why the hell would he fall like a weakling? Evangeline brushed away the thought. It wasn't important right now.
Getting off the bed, she walked toward the door and turned the knob. It was locked. She tried again, rattling it harder, but failed.
"Damn it," she hissed, slamming her palm against the door. Of course, why would they keep it open and let her easily escape?
Her gaze then shifted to the mirror in the corner. A bitter sigh left her lips. She was still in that white execution dress. Wrinkled. Stained. They hadn't even bothered to change her clothes, just tossing her into a room like some dirty little secret.
And then, as if to mock her further, Ezaar's voice echoed in her head;
"She is Somaire's slave now."
The swords looped, over and over, like a cursed lullaby.
Evangeline knew he hadn't brought her here to pamper and treat her like a princess. She wasn't naïve. But still… it stung. He had been so fucking rude and cold!
Her thoughts were interrupted by the click of the door. Evangeline turned around—and there he was. Perfectly fine. Unfortunately alive.
Of course. The collapse scene must've been some dream. A delusion her mind played to feel better after all that humiliation.
"You can—"
Before Ezaar could even finish, Evangeline gripped her dress and tore it off her body. She stood there, barely covered, with just a bra and panties, shaking, eyes blazing like wildfire.
Her actions startled Ezaar. But he didn't even glance down at her naked body. His eyes stayed locked with hers.
"Are you seducing me now, Kitten?" he asked with a smirk.
And that infuriated Evangeline even more.
"Isn't this why you brought me here?" she growled. "To fuck me until I die and then toss my body back to my father like yesterday's trash?" She stepped forward, fury pulsing through her. "Let's get it over with."
That's how it always went, didn't it? These brooding, twisted Alphas and their sick need for power. For control. Some tortured their slaves for fun. Some raped them to death. She'd heard it all. Seen it. Her own father had done worse. And this man was no different.
"Or should we start with the whipping?" Her voice cracked, but her eyes didn't.
Ezaar clenched his jaw. Not with desire but with fury. His eyes flicked to the mirror behind her, the horrific visuals raging his wolf. She had all kinds of scars on her back… Old, dark, and unhealed. Some fresh and deep, still fighting to heal.
Even a warrior like him, who had been to countless battles, didn't have such agonizing marks.
Rumors said Graham treasured his daughter, but this… this didn't speak of love. His wolf snarled inside him, wanting to kill every bastard who'd dared to hurt her.
Evangeline blinked harder, trying to stay calm. But his gaze broke her. He wasn't looking at her with lust but pity that hurt worse. Her lips trembled, and she fought back her tears, trying to forget the nightmares that still clawed at her skin.
Ezaar slowly started unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze never wavering. Evangeline gulped hard, fear crawling up her spine. When he walked toward her, she tried to steady herself, her heart rummaging against her chest.
Ezaar stopped right in front of her, finishing the last button. When he took it off, Evangeline closed her eyes shut, waiting for the worst to happen. For him to ruin her. But surprisingly, Ezaar didn't touch her. Instead, she felt him gently drape his shirt over her shoulders.
Evangeline opened her eyes, her fingers holding the fabric in confusion. The white shirt was too big for her, reaching up to her thighs and covering her completely. When he leaned closer, so close that his breath brushed against her skin, she flinched.
"You're kinky, I see," Ezaar murmured, his voice sharp and sultry. "But I won't touch you… even if you beg me, sweetheart."
Evangeline blinked in confusion. She stiffened when Ezaar leaned over to her ear.
"Isn't that the real torture?" He whispered, darker now. "Watching me… knowing you want it… and never getting it."
Evangeline's breath hitched, her heart racing at his comment. But rage shortly took over her, her eyes glaring at Ezaar, who was now smirking in delight, enjoying her reaction.
"You devious bastard," Evangeline spat, her body trembling at the cold wind.
"Devious?" Ezaar echoed. With a smile, he added, "Oh, I'm a darling, my dear."
Turning around, he walked to the bed and pulled the blanket. Returning, he wrapped it around her petite frame. With a smile, he ruffled her hair and added, "And you'll realize it soon."
Evangeline wanted to throw it off. Wanted to scream. But the wind blew again harshly through the open window, chilling her skin as if even it was on his side. Gritting her teeth, she clenched the fabric tighter.
"Someone will bring a new set of clothes," Ezaar said, his tone tinged with concern. "And close the windows before you sleep. You'll catch a cold."
"Stop with the gentleman act." Evangeline gagged at him. "I'm sick of it."
"That's just my nature, sweetheart," Ezaar replied smoothly. "Can't help it."
Evangeline rolled her eyes. "Oh? Is that why you fucked me and posted the video online? Real gentleman move I must say," she scowled. "Blurring your face like a coward."
Ezaar blinked in confusion. "Ah…" he said dryly. "That scandalous video of yours?"
Evangeline's glare hardened, but his next words made her frown.
"It wasn't me."
"You're lying." Evangeline shot back.
"I was with the werewolf council that night," Ezaar replied seriously. "You can go check their CCTVs."
His wolf growled inside, blaming him for letting her go that night. Maybe if they hadn't, their mate wouldn't hate them so much now.
'Shut up!' Ezaar snapped internally. He was growing tired of its constant whining.
Evangeline's brows furrowed, her gut twisting. He must be deceiving her. But something inside her screamed for her to believe him. The stupid mate bond again.
"Then who was with me?" she demanded. "With your resources, you'd know by now."
A ghost of a smile appeared on Ezaar's face. Stepping closer, he replied. "That's for you to figure out, kitten." Patting her head warmly, he added, "Use your brain cells if you have any."
Evangeline slapped away his hand before clutching the blanket tighter. She hated how he played with her like she was some damn pet.
"Good night," Ezaar murmured, turning to leave.
Evangeline kicked her feet in the air, groaning in frustration as he left the room. She threw away the blanket he had offered, snarling in rage. Her eyes then locked onto the window.
He wanted to figure it out? Fine! Evangeline thought, walking toward the window.
The room seemed to be on the ground floor. Perfect. A stool sat right beside it—like someone had left it there on purpose, hoping she'd find it. Climbing over it, she took a deep breath and jumped, falling right into a death trap.