Chapter 91
Lyra’s POV
My head is pounding loudly as if a moving train just collided with it. I struggle to open my eyes, but it feels impossible. It’s as if I’m drowning in the abyss, completely disoriented.
I try to move my hands, but they’re restrained by a chair, intensifying my panic. I attempt to move the chair again, but it remains immovable.
I start to feel fear creeping up my spine. Thoughts race through my mind, The room feels suffocatingly silent.
With each attempt to break free, my heart beats faster, echoing in my ears. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I grit my teeth and focus all my energy on trying to break free, desperate for any sign of progress.
Summoning all my courage, I muster every ounce of strength to flutter my eyes open, only to be met with pitch darkness all around.
“Oh my goodness, what’s happening?” I exclaim inwardly, my mind racing with questions. “Where am I? How did I get here?” My thoughts jumbled as I tried to piece together how I ended up in this situation.
Like a puzzle, everything starts to fit together as I remember visiting my new apartment. Conor had stepped out after receiving a call, leaving me alone. As I ventured outside, I was suddenly pierced with a needle in my neck.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.
I attempt to move my hand, hoping to break free from the chains, but it’s futile. They’re silver chains, a werewolf’s worst enemy, binding me tightly.
Who could have planned my kidnapping? My uncle is locked away in the dungeon, Tristan wouldn’t dare to lay a hand on me, and it seems Annie has already achieved her objectives since she’s now with Kessler. Could another enemy be lurking in the shadows, someone I’m not even aware of?
I rack my brain, trying to piece together any possible suspects. Just then, a door swings open, flooding the room with blinding light as it’s turned on. I squint, trying to adjust my sight to the sudden brightness.
Taking in my surroundings, I realize I’m in an old, abandoned warehouse, with dilapidated walls and rusty chains.
“Well, well, well, finally, the bitch is awake,” she snarls, walking with graceful poise. Pregnancy seems to suit her, adding an air of confidence to her demeanor.
As I realize who she is, I clench my fists, trying to suppress the anger surging through me.
She feigned fear to mask the tension in the room, as we both know the depths of animosity between us.
“The bitch is even pregnant,” she taunts.
“That makes us even, bitch,” I retort defiantly.
She moves closer, her face inches from mine. Gathering my resolve, I spit at her face, seething with rage. “Get lost, you whore.”
Without hesitation, she lands a hard slap across my cheek. It burns fiercely, but I refuse to let her see the pain she’s caused. My jaw clenches, and I meet her gaze with steely determination, refusing to back down.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice tinged with defiance.
“I want to watch you suffer,” she replies coldly, her eyes gleaming with malice. “I want to break you into pieces until you beg for your life, begging me to spare you. And by then, I’ll have the pleasure of dealing with you in the way I see fit.”
Her words send a chill down my spine, and I tremble. The only advantage she has is that I’m chained to this chair, unable to defend myself properly.
“Take off this chain and face me like the bitch that you are,” I challenge, my voice trembling with anger. “Then I’ll know if you’re worth taking seriously or just a coward hiding behind threats.”
She gives me another harsh slap. “You don’t talk back until I ask a question, dumbass,” she sneers.
I turn my face to the side, feeling the stinging pain from her slap.
“What do you stand to gain from all of this?” I continue, ignoring the pain as I address her. “Kessler is all yours. I’ve moved on, and you should too since you’ve already won the trophy of having him to yourself and carrying his heir.”
I notice a flicker of hurt in her eyes, quickly masked by a facade of indifference. “What do I miss?” I ask, curious about the emotions she’s trying to conceal.
I remember seeing news about her and Kessler’s marriage hitting the rocks. Could this be true?
But before I can dwell on that thought, she interrupts, “I’m not here for chit-chat. I’m here to see you suffer.”
She claps her hands, and two hefty men walk in carrying strips. The sight sends a wave of dread through me, realizing the extent of the torture she has planned.
I am forced to stand up from the chair, my hands still chained. They instruct me to hold onto something as they strip me naked and start wiping me with the strips.
The first stroke is brutal, and I let out a yell. The pain intensifies with each successive stroke, and I continue to cry out until they reach forty-eight strokes. By then, I am drained and exhausted, collapsing to the ground, battered and worn out.
As I lay on the ground, panting heavily and struggling to catch my breath, The pain from the lashes spread out through my body, leaving me vulnerable.
I mustered the strength to lift my head slightly, my eyes locking with hers. There’s a cruel satisfaction in her eyes, a twisted pleasure she gets from seeing me suffer.
I refuse to let her break me completely. I push myself to a sitting position, glaring defiantly at her. “You may have hurt me physically, but you’ll never break my spirit.”
I fear for my child in my womb. I pray to the moon goddess, begging her to protect my precious baby.
Annie is still burning with anger. She slaps me and calls me a whore. “Everything was going fine with me and Kessler until you showed your face and made Kessler not take pleasure in me again,” she spits out.
I feel weak and unable to fight back. But I can’t just sit and watch things unfold like this. I can’t die like this, not when my baby’s life is at stake. My child is too important to me.
I feel the burning pain of the silver chain piercing into my skin, making me powerless against my will to fight. With each moment of agony, I’m reminded of my helplessness.
I have no trust in anyone coming to my rescue this time. I doubt whether Kessler even knows I’m in danger. My thoughts drift to Conor-could he have a hand in orchestrating this nightmare?
Life has taught me not to trust easily, especially after everything I’ve been through. When will I ever find true happiness and be able to enjoy it without fear?
Sasha, my wolf, is also weakened and subdued by the effects of the silver chain.
I find myself lying on the bare floor, naked and vulnerable, when I hear the door open again. A familiar scent wafts towards me, unmistakable. It’s him. What is he doing here? He’s supposed to be locked in the dungeon. This can’t be real.
Each step he takes echoes in the room as he approaches me. With a single finger, he tilts my face up and greets me, “Hello, niece.”
I mutter silently to myself, “Holy fuck.”