“She won’t talk.”
Of course, now that he thought about it he of all people should have realized that she wouldn’t speak to anyone. Cynthia could be very stubborn when she wanted to be. He just wondered why she was refusing to disclose any information about the ringleader behind this circus.
He thought of what she told him happened to Cole’s father. About how he had died at the hands of some hunters. He wondered if there was any truth to that story and if it somehow had something to do with the attacks.
He found himself retaining all the conversations they had had, the kisses they had shared and the moments they’d been together thinking of which part was a lie.
He would go to see her. To interrogate her and for Cole’s sake. He was only doing this for him. Not to answer the questions burning him up. Definitely not that because that would be stupid.
“Alright, you are dismissed. I will check her out myself. ”
*****
When Calvin entered the dungeons, Cynthia was passed out on the chair she was strapped to. Her blond hair hung in limp sheets around her.
The scent of pain and suffering intertwined so deeply with her scent that he couldn’t have separated it even if he wanted to.
Before he fully realized what he was doing, he was in front of her and unstrapping her from the chair.
The movement brought Cynthia to consciousness, her body subconsciously preparing for the next round of torture only to see Calvin crouched in front of her.
“Calvin?” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “What are you doing here?”
Calvin looked up from the straps he was undoing. He was undoing her straps, why?
“What do you think?”
Cynthia seemed even more confused. “You should hate me. I pretended to be who I wasn’t. I lied. I used you, I gave intel that cost your pack members their lives.”
Calvin straightened, his fist clenching with anger as he strode over to a wall and threw a punch that made a dent in the brick.
“You think I don’t know that?!”
Cynthia had never heard his voice that loud or angry. She looked at his bleeding hand that was already healing back. She had never seen him this way, she had done that to him.
“All night I stayed up wondering how I could have been so oblivious. I wondered why you chose me of all people to use. Did I seem more gullible perhaps? I wondered what was the point of it all, why did you do so many terrible things?”
His eyes seemed darker, and colder instead of the warm genial quality he seems to personify.
“Calvin please–”
“No, you will not speak this time. You had your chance when Ava was accusing you and I defended you. Do you know how much it hurt to know that all this while I was the fool?”
Cynthia shut her eyes, tears flowing freely from her.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t even know what I am doing here. I hate you for making me fall in love with a woman who never existed.”
Calvin turned away from her thinking about how stupid he was for trying to release her from her shackles. What had he been about to do? She was a criminal. A mastermind. Cole would be lucky to never grow up with such a mother.
He should feel lucky that he found out her truth before they got more entangled than they were. Before they got mated. Then why did he feel anything but lucky?
He was almost at the cell door when the sounds of her sobs reached his ears.
It was the most heartbreaking thing that had happened to him.
To standstill as the woman he loved bawled her eyes out and he just stood there doing nothing.
Not knowing when or how exactly, he turned back to her and unstrapped her himself before taking her into his arms.
Cynthia’s sobs only increased and she kept whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again.
Calvin didn’t know how long they stood there, him comforting her silently while she continued crying.
He knew there was a chance that she was still pretending. Still lying to him again but at this point, he couldn’t leave her like this. His feelings for her wouldn’t let him and his hope that she wasn’t lying.
To feign this depth of emotion would mean she was a hell of an actress and a psychopath. He didn’t want to believe he could have fallen for someone like that.
When she finally exhausted herself, Cynthia pulled away from him and he was surprised at the intensity with which he wanted her back in his arms.
“We are finished, aren’t we?” She said quietly avoiding his gaze.
“Not if you are truthful with me.” Calvin was surprised at what he was saying.
“Tell me the truth about everything.”
Cynthia’s heart sank. How could she tell him about Dorian and his plans that were very nearly complete? It would only put him more at risk because there was no way he wouldn’t want to fight against such a man leading their race as a king.
“I don’t think I can.”
Calvin paused. “You can’t or you won’t?”
Cynthia didn’t respond.
“Cynthia, talk to me. I want to hear everything, I want to hear your side of the story. I want you to defend yourself. Give me something to fight for.”
Cynthia took a step backwards. “I don’t think we have something worth fighting for.” I’m not worth fighting for.
Calvin let out a shaky breath. “That’s right. How could I have possibly forgotten? I’m just a pawn to you after all, right?”
“No. You were never that–”
“It sure doesn’t feel that way.” Calvin stepped out of the cell and locked it again. For a second, he looked at Cynthia through the bars fighting the urge to take her out because he knew her torture would only continue.
Cynthia looked away first, turning her back from him and her shoulders shook as she did. He knew she was crying and even if it was what he wanted to do, he couldn’t comfort her so he did the best thing he could do.
He left before he shattered.
*******
Dorian didn’t get angry often. His men knew that. So whenever he did, they also knew it was going to be a bloodbath.
He wiped his fingers clean of the blood of the messenger who had come to convey the message that not only had they failed to retrieve Cynthia but they had also left that man alive.
This wouldn’t do. It simply wouldn’t do at all. But there were more pressing matters he reminded himself. He had to remind himself. No matter his cresting anger.
“Clean up this mess and send me Ficiah.”
There was work to be done. So much work. Becoming king was not easy.
The full moon shone down on the abandoned warehouse, casting eerie shadows across the empty streets.
Inside, a group of werewolf hunters sat around a large wooden table, their faces twisted in anger and determination.
“I have received word from one of the twisted creatures. Apparently, they are having dissent amongst themselves.”
The others expressed similar looks of disgust. The animals could barely control themselves, it was a wonder they hadn’t hunted themselves into extinction yet.
It irked him to no end that they had to rely on intel from one of them but that would soon be dispensed with and even this informant would die for being an abomination.
“The hunter organization has become a mere facade of what it once was. Our leaders have betrayed our creed but we will right that wrong if it is the last thing we do.”
The leader of the hunters, a grizzled man with a scar running down his chin, slammed his fist on the table. “We’ve had enough of these creatures terrorizing our city. It’s time to take matters into our own hands. We’ll hunt them down one by one until they’re all gone.”
The other hunters nodded in agreement, their hands gripping the handles of their weapons. They had brought silver bullets, knives, and even a few grenades. They were ready for a fight.
“Tonight we fight. We fight for our honour and the salvation of mankind. Tonight we make our stand.”