Chapter 17 - Lila

Growing wearier by the second, I attempt to open my eyes. I try lugging in deep breaths, the nauseating pain in my stomach making me choke while I try to keep my head above the water of disorientation.

A shudder passes through me, withering my lungs and sending an aching hand up to my neck. A metallic, acrid taste clambers to the top of my throat, making me cough and splutter at the regurgitation of blood.

When it reaches the roof of my mouth, I keel over to one side and spit out dark clots of scarlet beside my head.

“Flynn….” His name rolls off my tongue as my eyes roll to the back of my head. My vision is cloudy, and I gasp when I touch the swelling of my eyelids.

What happened?

All I remember is the darkening of my vision and the putrid smell of chloroform. I'd blacked out soon after, and now I've been feebly attempting to wake up on the stone-cold hard floor beneath me.

I'm able to take a deep breath at last, which gives me the strength to open my eyes enough to make sense of my surroundings. Beneath me are chipped concrete floors, while a struggling glance upward shows me that I'm caged by metal bars.

Where am I?

The frown that tugs my brows has me wincing in pain, indicating that my face is hurt. I lick my chapped lips, tasting blood on one side. How did my lip get busted?

That's the least of my worries when I drag my eyes down and find my wrists shackled by metal cuffs. Humming in discomfort, I lift my hands closer and instinctively sniff the metal bands.

Silver.

A wrangled chuckle escapes me when I realize I've been captured and tied with silver binds. Chains fit for a wolf shifter, the natural metal strong enough to weaken and immobilize a werewolf to prevent it from shifting.

What a joke! I think, a sardonic laugh echoing in the vast empty cavity of my imprisonment. What's the point of silver chains when I don't even have a wolf to shift into?

Okay, Lila, get it together, I will myself mentally, even if the encouragement is only from my own barely-conscious mind.

Slowly, I amble to my aching elbows, lifting myself when a sense of vertigo swoops in and makes me feel dizzy. A few more deep breaths, and I'm able to get a semblance of my composure back, enough to focus my hearing on anything that might give me clues to my whereabouts.

Through the haze of a murky smell in the air, one thing is for sure—I'm still in Zafra, the scent of freshly cut grass evident and overpowering the pungent smell of dampness. My sense of smell might not be as sharp as that of another werewolf's, but I've been around long enough to recognize the distinct, earthy richness of the town I grew up in.

Putting the pieces of this mysterious puzzle together, I arrive at the only plausible conclusion.

This is Cynthia's doing. There's no other explanation. It's as if my gut flutters to alert me that my intuition is correct when the realization dawns on me.

The only trouble is, how do I get out of this mess?

Will she leave me to rot away in this dungeon, which I suspect is below the town's library? Will she torture me slowly, make me suffer for ever believing I was fit enough to be the Alpha's mate?

I wouldn't put it past her. Battered and bruised in this dungeon, she'd have her way with me.

Unless…

“H-hello?!” I croak as loud as I can, my voice bouncing off the four walls and echoing in my ears.

“Hello?! Is anybody out there?!” I try again, but my attempt is futile when silence responds to my call for help.

Great…

Perhaps it isn't so bad, after all, I decide glumly. My shoulders slouch as I curl into myself and prop my chin on my knees, staring blankly at the dark void ahead like a forecast for the rest of my bleak life.

A life that would have been empty, anyway. It doesn't matter if I'm out there, or down here. My measly, wolf-less existence didn't have any real purpose to it. Even as the Alpha's mate, I witnessed the horror in his eyes when he realized his mistake.

My entire existence feels like a mistake. One that has me tearing up and quietly sobbing into my hands so I won't have to face the shame of crying if it echoes back to me. The only thing I regret is that I won't see the ones I love again.

Miles. Valerie.

Flynn.

My sobs become louder, wrenched from the depths of my chest as if the acknowledgment of the truth is being ripped out of me by imaginary claws, tugging and pulling until the painful truth is plucked and held up in front of my face for me to see in all its rawness.

I still have feelings for Flynn. Feelings I've buried so deeply that I thought I'd gotten rid of them entirely. Feelings that make me want to be near him even after all the abuse I've faced at his hands. It's not just a trauma bond but a feeling so deeply ingrained in my being that even when I became stronger-willed, I couldn't avoid those feelings.

Despite what he does to constantly push me away, my heart refuses to stop yearning for his closeness. Even now, as the crows outside flutter their wings and croak their call of departure, the wave of despair for my loneliness is cured by just the thought of the Alpha.

Sigh…

I close my eyes and silently pray for sleep to take over. That way, I can lose myself in the dreams that paint vivid pictures of a better life. Dreams that won't be as empty as reality, where Flynn's hand reaches out for me without horror reflected in his eyes.

“Lila! Lila!”

I'm snapped awake when I hear my name being urgently called from somewhere far away. Blinking quickly, I'm not sure if the voice is just inside my head, part of some dream I can't remember having. But it was present enough to wake me up.

“Lila!”

There it is again, this time louder as it comes from somewhere outside. I strain my eyes to adjust to the darkness stretching out ahead of me, focusing on the heavy footsteps crushing dry leaves with every step outside.

My heart begins pounding faster as every step grows closer and louder, my anticipation building. A thunderous crack ignites the dreary silence as a door flies in, leaving a gaping hole ahead that makes way for the natural light of the moon to filter into the dungeon. I gasp, breath hitching in my throat, when a poised silhouette is outlined in the doorway. From its broad, muscular shoulders that taper into a firm waist, to the powerful thighs that keep up its weight, it's as if the silhouette was pulled out from the pages of a Greek history book. Cast in the light of the moon like marble, there's no mistaking who my savior is.

“Flynn,” I call out, my voice nothing more than a gentle whisper of awe as he pivots over the rails and lands effortlessly on his feet in a cloud of smoke. It's like watching a superhero in action, leaving me transfixed and marveling at him with my mouth agape.

If I'm dreaming, I don't want to wake up. Not when he comes closer, carrying with him the sweet symphony of his distinct scent that fills my airways and soothes my being. When he's close enough, he meets my eyes and I see the relief washing over the intense amber of his stare.

It doesn't even matter if it's just my reflection I see in his eyes, my own relief to know that he cared enough to come find me. When he rushes forward, the sounds of chaos and destructive howls outside fade into the distance. I'm consumed by his presence as he grabs the metal bars in both hands and rips them away as if he's tearing paper. Not a flinch of strain is evident on his face, only relief as he grabs my shoulders, lifts me to my shaking feet, and rips the silver chains away. He picks me up and cradles me to his chest so tightly as I wind my weak arms around his neck.

He carries me forward, eyes piercing my soul as if searching for an answer to a question he doesn't speak. I say nothing either, only relishing the comfort of his arms as I find the answers to all of my questions. Questions I can't understand, but answers that lead to one truth.

Him.

It's always been him, who I've been drawn to for as long as I can remember. A childhood crush turned much, much more.

So much more than the fall from grace is a fatal blow when we emerge from the dungeon and Flynn calls out to my brother. Miles, in wolf form, comes racing toward us, while behind him, Delta Howard has Cynthia pinned to the ground.

It was her…

“Flynn! I'm sorry!” she cries out, desperation in her eyes as she weeps rivers of mascara down her cheeks. “Please, don't do this!”

Flynn grunts, turning to Miles before he says, “I never want to see her again.”

Miles nods his wolf head.

“Off with her head, and burn her at the stake.”

“What?!” I exclaim, turning horrified eyes on Flynn. “Behead her?”

Flynn shrugs. “It's what she deserves.”

I shake my head, unable to believe what I just heard. It's like the world around me has been detonated, crumbling to stone and tensing me in Flynn's arms.

“You can't be serious,” I whisper in disbelief.

He shrugs diffidently again. “Dead serious. No pun intended.”

I glance at Cynthia pinned on the ground, then at my brother, who strolls toward her with calculated steps. Slowly, I move my eyes to Flynn, who looks ahead with a blank stare.

Is he capable of such gruesome horror?

It's like I don't even know the man whose arms I'm being carried in.

A cold shiver passes through my spine, and I can't stand to watch this unfold before my eyes. Shaking my head, I push at his shoulders and hastily hop out of his arms, landing on frail feet and needing to steady myself for a moment.

“Lila!” he reaches out for my wrist, but I'm quick to dodge, glaring at him dubiously.

“No, Flynn!” I exclaim, shaking my head. “You can't do this! You can't be so cruel!”

The deep growl that cuts through the air from behind prompts me to turn around.

“Miles!” I call out to my brother, my heart pounding desperately when I see his distended claws lift in the air. “Stop! Don't do this!”

Despite the pains and aches in my body, I push through and propel myself forward on determined feet.

“Don't, Miles!” I cry out, lunging my body forward until I'm planted between my brother's wolf and Cynthia. “Don't do this,” I beg with clasped hands in front of my face to plead with him.

He whimpers, dropping his claw and his head simultaneously, as if he's bowing to me. It only hits me then that he's taking command from his Luna, and not his sister.

I don't know what's come over me, but I can't stand to witness bloodshed tonight. Not when it's the head of one of our own on the chopping block. Something inside me has flipped, leaving a residual sense of power and authority as I climb to my feet and turn to Cynthia just as Howard releases her.

“You should thank me for sparing your life—”

“Thank you—”

“No!” I growl at Cynthia when she tries cutting me off. “I am not done! I do not need your thanks, Cynthia. I am sick and tired of the way you've treated me ever since you received your wolf. Your punishment will be to never have your wolf see the light of day again.”

Cynthia trembles on the ground below me. “You're—you're gonna steal my wolf?”

“Steal?” I scoff, a sinister smirk curving my lips. “I wouldn't dream of stealing your wolf. I would hate to be anything like you, Cynthia,” I spit derisively. “I am the Luna of Blood Moon, and I wouldn't want to be anything else.”

With a scornful chuckle, I turn to the Beta, my brother, and hand down my second set of instructions for him. “The Grime has a method to disarm a Blood Moon's wolf. You'll need the Alpha's blood to perform the ritual.”

Miles nods his wolf head at me, then turns to the Alpha.

“Lila…”

I shake my head when Flynn tries calling out to me, the adrenaline in my veins still pulsing with the power I'd tasted just now. It's unlike anything I've felt before, not even when I built the fortress inside to protect my heart and my feelings.

It's quite the opposite, really. This surge of power was full of feeling, emotion, and the compassion that I once thought made me weak. Tonight, I found strength in my ability to feel so deeply, to be so empathetic, but strong enough to deal out karma. In the form of a punishment meant to teach a profound lesson, I have wielded my weaknesses into strengths.

Riding on that sovereignty, I keep my head held high as I walk past Flynn and head to the main house. I can't stand him right now; his intention to use violence is not the way I'd want to lead a pack. A leader should be respected, not feared.

I'm sick and tired of the fear-based indoctrinations that have been keeping us bound to old traditions. It's why the pack could never accept me for being without a wolf. Fear. Standards. Regulations that deemed us fit or unfit.

Needing to fit in so that we wouldn't be cursed or burned at the stake.

“What just happened?” Flynn asks.

He's followed me to the main house. I used to be vexed when he'd dismiss me or reject me; right now, I don’t consider his attention or presence something to swoon over.

“I don't wanna talk to you right now, Flynn,” I tell him without glancing back, heading to the kitchen to get water. I get a glass out and turn on the faucet, my blurry reflection in the sink making me frown.

I was so sure my face was battered and bruised when I woke up in the dungeon. Absentmindedly, a finger rises to my lip where I'd tasted blood before, my fingertip touching smooth, unmarred skin.

Strange…

“We are gonna talk right now, Lila,” Flynn demands, placing a strong hand on my shoulder to coerce me to turn to him.

I shrug him off but turn to glare at him disdainfully.

“What do you want to talk about, huh?” I snap at him. “You wanna talk about how you were gonna kill her?!”

“How is that ba—” He stops, shaking his head in disbelief, and his jaw tenses as his brows furrow. “She kidnapped you, threw you in the dungeon. You're the Luna of this pack!”

“Stop telling me things I already know!” I yell back, tears simmering at the surface. “Since when do you kill your own?!”

Flynn is taken aback, pausing to slowly nod. “What did you expect me to do, Lila?”

I sigh, hanging my head and giving myself a moment of pause to finally let my soul speak. It's a voice I've neglected for too long. It's long overdue. Trying so hard to be someone I'm not is exhausting. Pretending not to care about Flynn is even worse. The worst is pushing aside my feelings for the sake of others.

I lift my head to find Flynn staring at me expectantly. I take a deep breath and offer, “Stand up for me? Is that too much to ask for? First, you abuse me. Then you wanna kill a Blood Moon wolf. Do you care about this pack at all?”

A glint of sadness flashes through his eyes, his breath catching momentarily. All I can do is purse my lips after being brave enough to finally give him some food for thought.

He takes a ragged breath as he drops his shoulders. “Everything I've ever done was for the safety of this pack. Ever since Finch died—”

“Flynn,” I quickly interject, realizing that I've stirred up his demons that perhaps I have no rightful place to be acquainted with. “It doesn't matter.”

“Yes, it does,” he affirms with a bold nod and a purposeful step forward. “It matters because you have to know that I care.” He takes another step forward and places his hands on my shoulders. This time, I'm too lost in his eyes to shrug him off. “I care about you, that's why I told you to stop working at the center.”

My heart skips a beat as I stare into eyes of golden conviction, my brows knotting in a frown. Until he said those words, I hadn't realized how much I'd been wanting to hear them. Or just how much they'd move me.

“What else am I supposed to do, Flynn?” I sigh heavily, batting my eyelids like the wings of a butterfly. “You picked me as your mate, but I don't have any real purpose here.”

Flynn's eyes grow dark with anger as that seemingly sets in. “Purpose?” he asks, low, almost growling at me. “You think you don't have a purpose here?”

I shake my head warily, too fearful of the sudden intensity of his eyes.

He huffs as he takes a step back, taking hold of my hand. “Come with me,” he instructs in that firm voice belonging to his innate Alpha wolf. “It's time you learned the truth.”

Curiosity mingles with my confusion as I follow Flynn out the door and into the backyard. He drops my hand and takes a step back, glancing at the mountain before he says, “You deserve that much.”