Alethea
I watch as Alice shreds the paper into tiny pieces before striding into the bathroom.
She tosses the scraps into the toilet, flushes, and watches as they disappear, erasing any evidence of our conversation.
That’s when I finally take a good look at her.
Her sharp cheekbones, perfectly arched brows, and smooth brown skin make her features striking. But it’s her eyes-deep brown, warm yet piercing-that make my stomach tighten.
They remind me of Selena.
I’ve memorized Selena’s face so well that I could recognize her features even with my eyes closed. And now, staring at Alice, I can’t shake the familiarity.
“You look familiar,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper.
She doesn’t hesitate. “That’s because we’re cousins.”
Before I can react, she strides toward the door.
Her hand hovers over the handle, but just as she’s about to leave, she pauses. Without turning around, she says, “Don’t do anything stupid. Wait for my instructions.”
I frown. Wait for her instructions?
Who the hell does she think she is, giving me orders? I don’t take orders from anyone.
But… I also know I have no choice. Not yet.
I’m trapped here, and for now, she’s my only chance at getting out of this mess.
So, gritting my teeth, I give her a slow nod.
She doesn’t say anything else. She just steps out and closes the door behind her.
The moment she’s gone, I groan in frustration. “Fuck.”
I glare at the dress bag in my hand before kicking it across the room, as rage bubbles in my chest.
Why does it always have to be like this? Why am I always backed into a corner, forced to fight my way out?
No. This isn’t the end.
I won’t sit here and wait like some helpless prisoner.
I walk to the bed and pull out the toothbrush I had grabbed earlier for defense. Placing it on the bed, I stare at it.
What was I even thinking?
What damage can a damn toothbrush do?
I pick it up again, turning it over in my hands and inspecting the handle. Then, an idea forms in my head
If I break the tip just right… If I drive it into my captor’s neck… the blood would pour out instantly.
My grip tightens around the plastic, my mind racing with possibilities.
Then I shake my head, forcing the thought away with a silent plea.
Please, Goddess, don’t let it come to that.
Curiosity gets the better of me as I slowly unzip the dress bag.
This is my ticket out of this room. My only chance to see beyond these walls is to face whoever my captor is.
With that thought burning in my mind, I rush to the bathroom.
Peeling off my dress, I step under the shower. The water cascades down my skin, scalding hot, but it does nothing to dull the ache in my chest.
My thoughts drift to my boy.
Declan.
Is he asking for me? Is he crying out, wondering where his mother is? The thought alone makes my stomach twist painfully.
Then there’s Selena.
She must be devastated. This kidnapping is her worst fear. She’s always warned me, always looked over her shoulder, always told me to be careful.
And now? Now I’m gone.
Tears blur my vision, mixing with the warm water as they slip down my cheeks.
Then my thoughts shift to Asher.
Should I blame him for this?
I don’t know. One minute, he’s warm. Next, he’s ice-cold. Like at any moment, the weight of his fears might crush him.
Selena always said he has demons, things that haunt him-but shouldn’t he have let me in? Shouldn’t he have trusted me enough to share his burdens?
But all of that fades when I remember why I’m here.
The thought of being marked by someone else, of my heat taking full control on the Blue Moon, it sends a violent shiver through me.
Disgust wells up inside me, twisting my stomach so hard I feel like I might vomit.
I grab the soap and scrub my body with furious strokes as if I can wash away the fear, the helplessness, the horror of what’s coming.
But no matter how hard I scrub, the feeling stays.
A sharp knock on the bathroom door makes me pause.
I turn off the shower, the last drops of water trailing down my skin. Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around my body.
Knock. Knock.
“It’s me, Alice. Are you there?”
I roll my eyes, choosing not to reply. Instead, I place my hand on the doorknob and pull it open.
Alice stands there, holding a pair of killer heels in her hands.
“What?” I ask, my voice flat.
“I brought you these,” she says, lifting the shoes slightly.
I glance at them, unimpressed. “Why all the formal dressing?” I ask in a bored tone.
“Our uncle likes to see us put on full display like this. And, more importantly, he wants to discuss the Blue Moon Mating Ball.”
Oh, really?
I stop mid-step and stare at her. Then, suddenly, I let out a humorless laugh.
Alice flinches slightly, surprised by my reaction.
But I don’t tell her what’s really on my mind, that I won’t be here during the Blue Moon. That I’m going to get out of here, no matter what it takes.
Instead, I nod and take the shoes. “Thanks.”
“Dinner is in ten minutes. I’ll come back to fetch you,” she says before turning away.
“Okay,” I reply, eager to be left alone.
Once she’s gone, I start to prepare.
I don’t overdo it. I dry my hair, rub some moisturizer into it, and tie it up, exposing the sharp angles of my face. Then, I slip into the dress.
I don’t even register its color.
Each time I look at it, my mind drifts elsewhere, and by the time I remember to focus, the thought is already gone.
A simple strapless gown.
The sight of it sends an uneasy chill through me.
Standing before the mirror, I fastened the jewelry that came with the dress bag. My fingers move mechanically, my mind distant.
My face looks pale like all the color has drained from it.
But what color does it have left to show?
I’ve been taken against my will-stripped of my choices, my freedom.
How could there be any color left in me?
“It’s time,” Alice calls out, opening the door for me.
I take one last look at my reflection in the mirror. This is it.
With a quiet sigh, I turn and follow Alice, my steps mirroring hers. The heels click sharply against the hardwood floor; each sounds a reminder that I have no control over where I’m being led.
I just want this to be over.
I just want to get through dinner, return to that cold, unfamiliar room, and curl up in bed-maybe cry myself to sleep.
As soon as I step into the dining room, every pair of eyes locks onto me.
Their stares are suffocating, as if I’ve walked in carrying an unfamiliar scent that makes them curious-or worse, suspicious.
My stomach knots.
For a brief second, my steps falter, almost tripping under the intensity of their gaze.
Then, a voice rises above the murmurs.
A voice I know.
A voice I’ve heard before, even if only for a day.
No.
My breath catches, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Then, the owner of the voice steps forward, revealing himself.
My eyes widen, my mouth falling open in shock.
It can’t be.
This has to be a dream.
I need to wake up.