Amelia’s chest rises and falls slowly as she lays on my bed, her breathing shallow and fragile. I sit perched in an armchair nearby, a glass of whiskey in my hand. My heart clenches, recalling Beatrice’s words earlier tonight.
“I don’t need to tell you. You already know she was tortured, and in order for Amelia to survive, her wolf healed them, but that has also put their lives in danger.”
“What do you mean?”
“While undergoing her abuse, Amelia’s wolf, drugged with silver, struggled to heal her as much as it could to keep her alive. That has caused her wolf to go into a coma, and she is now unable to heal her even with treatment administered. Amelia is practically human now, fighting for her life like a human would. This makes things complicated because a human only has a 10% chance of surviving what she did.”
“Is there anything that can be done to increase her chances?”
“I know you won’t like to hear this, but you have to undo the backfiring of the unmasking spell. It’s our only hope of her survival.”
I don’t respond. Undoing that spell would make Amelia more difficult to handle.
“I know it’s a lot to risk, but we don’t have a choice right now. Only that other side of her can save her.”
“I’ve heard you can leave.”
I needed to think right now, and she wasn’t helping. I didn’t want Amelia to die, but I also didn’t want her to be able to leave the castle undetected because that’s what would happen once she could unmask her scent. My soldiers won’t even know she’s the one in the middle of the night. I have already established that putting a tracker on her won’t work. Letting her be able to unmask her scent successfully will be dangerous, but then…
Fuck! I pick up the lamp beside the table and smash it into the nearest wall. I couldn’t let another hair on her fucking head be touched again, but I also didn’t want to lose my only chance at revenge. I hear her whimper, moving in the bed, and I shift my eyes to her. One look at her and I know what to do.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips, fingers running through my hair as I lift the glass to my lips, taking a sip, all while turning toward the expansive windows. I don’t like what happened to her. I didn’t care for her as much as I should, but I didn’t need to. Anyone who wasn’t a monster couldn’t be happy with what happened to her. Speaking of it, I am still trying to figure out who kidnapped and tortured her. From what I have gathered from the lycans we captured, they ran a sex trafficking ring of female supernaturals and humans. Beatrice says Amelia wasn’t sexually abused, only tortured. I want to believe Amelia was randomly kidnapped. Still, no other girl suffered a quarter of the torture Amelia faced, making me feel there was more to it.
My phone pings, causing me to pull it out to check my messages. The message is from Eric, telling me the women we rescued have all been treated and they will be fine. I couldn’t be more delighted. Eric also found his mate among one of the ladies kept in the basement. I am so happy for him.
Staring at the window, I wonder what would have happened to them if we didn’t save them. Would they have ended up like her? Most certainly. I shut my eyes, clenching my fist as unwanted memories flash in my head. It’s been centuries, but it still feels like it was just yesterday.
My eyes snap open at the sound of someone groaning. Swiveling away from the window, I find Amelia with tightly shut eyes, her face contorted in pain, and her body tossing around on the bed. In an instant, I abandon the chair, rushing toward her.
Leaning over the bed, I softly call out her name, a gentleness in my voice that contradicts my usual demeanor, yet a necessity at this moment. She responds with a groan, gripping the sheets tightly. Beads of sweat start to form on her forehead, a visible sign of the distress she’s in. Concern tightens my features as I pull out my phone, intending to call Beatrice for help but halt at Amelia’s words.
“Please stop, I’m begging you!” Her desperate plea pierces the air, echoing the turmoil within her subconscious. The nightmare holds her in its grip.
I swiftly tuck my phone back into my pocket and begin to shake Amelia’s shoulders to wake her up.
“Amelia!” I call out.
“Please save me.” She grips my arm, probably recognizing my voice.
“Wake up, you aren’t there anymore,” I insist, hoping my words will pull her out of her nightmare.
“Please.” She tugs forcefully on my arm, unexpectedly pulling me down to her side. Unprepared, I lose my balance, my nose finding the soft crook of her neck. Instantly, her scent overwhelms my senses, a heady intoxication that triggers a low growl from deep within my chest. I find myself involuntarily sniffing at her neck, the allure of her essence consuming me.
The growl doesn’t escape Amelia’s notice. She reacts swiftly, her hand finding its way to my neck with a firm grip.
“Please save me, mate,” she utters softly, and I freeze against her. I didn’t know how to fucking react. Amelia had never called me her mate, not even once by mistake.
After what feels like an eternity, I decide to disentangle myself from her, but she refuses to release her grip. Her plea resonates once more, the desperation in her voice tugging at something within me. That part of me that would have said fuck it and pulled away regardless caves in, and I find myself doing something else.
I use my feet to take off my shoes and join her in bed. It’s not the first time I am close to Amelia, but for some odd reason, my heart is pounding as I try to get comfortable with her arm still looping around my neck. I move my hand under her and make her be the one lying on me. She lets go of my neck, moving to wrap her hands around my body, cinching even tighter than before.
Her blonde hair gently tickles my chin, and I find myself having the urge to run my fingers through the strands. What the fuck? Suppressing the impulse, I keep my hands at my side, waiting patiently for her to calm down. What’s happening right now doesn’t change things between us. I’m only doing this because I know my scent must be calming her down, and she needs her sleep. Nothing more.