Chapter 8 7

Soraya's POV

My stomach twisted. Mate? What did that even mean? Why did he sound so certain, as if my life was no longer mine to live?

Before I could argue, the sound of footsteps pulled both our attention. My head snapped toward the door. Irene appeared, carrying a tray of food.

She froze mid-step when her gaze met with Darius, her head quickly bowing low.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, Alpha,” she muttered softly.

Darius looked at Irene, then at the food, then turned his glare back to me. My breath caught in my throat, but instead of lashing out again, he turned and walked away.

I exhaled slowly, only realizing then how tense my shoulders had been.

The two maids approached me with the tray. “Here,” Chantelle said gently. “Have something to eat.”

I nodded stiffly and took it from them, not bothering with pleasantries. They excused themselves quickly, as though wanting to give me privacy.

When the door closed, I sat and stared at the food. My stomach growled louder than my pride.

Without thinking, I tore into it, ignoring the forks and knives, eating with my hands. I didn’t care about manners anymore. I ate greedily, hungrily, until the tension in my chest eased a little.

After the meal, Irene led me back to the bedroom. I hadn’t seen that grumpy Darius again, and honestly, I was glad for it. 

As the night wore on, exhaustion tugged at my body. I laid down on the bed, pulling the sheets over me. My eyelids grew heavy, and I let them fall. Sleep came quickly.

When I opened my eyes again, I froze. There was a figure sitting on the chair across the room. My breath caught as I jolted upright, heart hammering.

Then, as though the room itself wanted me to see, the lights flickered on. My gaze darted to the corner, and what I saw made my blood run cold.

A cage, with a huge werewolf inside.

Its fur was pitch black, sleek but wild, and its eyes glowed a piercing blue. They locked onto me, and my stomach twisted. 

The wolf snarled, snapping at the bars, it's teeth bared with fury as it clawed at its prison.

But then, suddenly, it stopped. It looked at me, not with rage, but with pleading eyes.

Those bright blue eyes softened, turning almost pleasingly, as if asking me to help, to free it.

I yanked the sheet over my head, my body trembling, my chest thumping so hard it hurt. Sweat drenched my skin. I could still hear the cage,  rattling, the growls, the deep howls vibrating in my bones.

I pressed my hands against my ears. I couldn’t breathe. My chest heaved, every sound of the wolf clawing and shaking the cage burrowing into my skull.

“Stop…” I whispered, though my voice was too shaky.

But it didn’t stop. The wolf’s howls grew louder, and I could feel the room shaking with it.

And then, I let out a loud gasp, as my eyes flew open.

I was lying in bed alone, and that corner where the cage sat was empty.

I let out a shaky laugh, though my throat was dry. My body was damp with sweat.

“That dream again…” I whispered, pressing a hand to my pounding chest.

But the sound of those howls still echoed faintly in my ears.

I don’t even know when it started. Back in the orphanage, it was my constant companion. I’d wake up screaming in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, heart pounding like I was about to die. 

The other children would laugh, call me insane, cursed and broken. Maybe they were right. Sometimes, I almost believed them.

My eyes dropped to my wrist. The faintly glowing tattoo stared back at me. I don’t even know if it’s just a tattoo, or something else entirely. But every time that dream comes, it glows.

I pulled my knees to my chest, hugging myself as if I could squeeze the fear out. The room was silent except for the whisper of the wind outside.

I tried to stay awake. But my body betrayed me and the heaviness in my eyes won.

When I opened them again, warm sunlight spilled into the room. The nightmare felt like a lie, but the glow on my wrist was proof it wasn’t.

I let out a muffled yawn, then swung out of bed. I went into the bathroom myself, not wanting the maids to come and bathe me. 

The cold splash of water against my skin made me shiver, but it also cleared my head a little. 

When I stepped out, wrapped in the towel, I didn’t really see anything to wear. For a moment, I thought I would have to call someone, but I didn’t want to. I hated asking, especially not in this place.

Then my eyes drifted down toward the wardrobe. Strange, how my gaze had fallen there so naturally. I crouched and pulled it open.

Inside was a dress. It wasn’t extravagant or heavy, just simple enough, yet beautiful in a way that made me pause to admire it.

I slipped it on. It fit me almost perfectly, as though it had been waiting for me all along. I stood before the mirror, staring at myself. 

I had just slipped the dress on when a knock sounded at the door. My heart jumped into my throat. For a moment, I froze, then I managed to call out.

“Come in…”

The door creaked open slowly, and a head peeked through. It was the man I had seen at the dining table last night. He smiled at me, and I stared back, unsure what to do.

“Hello,” he said again, still smiling. “I’m Dante.”

“Hello…” I muttered, not sure if I should even be talking to him.

He stepped in a little. “Don’t be scared, alright? I don’t bite. Actually, I just came to tell you that Darius isn’t around right now.”

I looked at him, blinking. “Where did he go?” Not that I cared, of course.

Dante tilted his head thoughtfully. “He went to take care of something last night. He should be back in a few days. He left last night. So…”

Before I could say anything, he added, “And I also want to apologize for what Emily said at the table. She can be like that sometimes, but she’s not a bad person.”

I almost rolled my eyes. Not a bad person. Everyone seemed to be saying that about her. If that wasn’t bad, then what was?

“I’m the Beta of this pack. If you need anything, you can tell me.”

“I want to get out of here. I don’t want to stay here at all,” I blurted.

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

I stared at him. “Because people here are werewolves. I don’t want to be around you.” 

What if being in this house was what triggered the nightmare again?

Dante’s expression softened. “Hey,” he said gently. “I know Darius might not be treating you the best way, or talking to you the best way. And Emily wasn’t exactly kind. You’re probably scared.”

He paused, then nodded to himself. “But I promise you, everything will be fine with time. You don’t have to go anywhere.”

“I don’t want to be here,” I whispered.

“You are his mate. The two of you are meant to be together.”

I blinked at him, my heart hammering. Mate? The word felt foreign, heavy, almost dangerous. 

“What do you even mean?” I asked.

“It’s something among werewolves. A mate is a soulmate given to one, by fate. You feel this bond, and you are meant to be together. That’s who you are to Darius… and so you can’t leave him.”

My stomach dropped, twisting on itself. Can’t leave him? My lips parted to argue, but nothing came out.

Instead, Dante just smiled. “Anyways, I should tell the maids to send you some breakfast. If you need anything, you can tell me.” He said, then walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

I let out a long, shaky sigh and collapsed back onto the bed, my hands over my face. “A mate…” I mumbled into my palms, as if saying it aloud would somehow make it easier to accept. 

The days blurred after that.

I would wake up in the morning, shower. The maids would come in, to give me breakfast, then lunch later.

Same for dinner. I didn't bother stepping out of the room as I didn't want to see the rest of them.

And at night, the dreams came. Always the same dream, and I would wake up gasping, trembling, then stay awake until exhaustion finally dragged me to sleep again.

And now, it was the morning of the seventh. When the maids knocked.

“Come in.” I said.

The two of them rushed in excitedly.

“Miss!” Irene gasped, almost breathless. “Darius is back!”