Three years had passed since Alyssa was sold to Gerald.
Three years of surviving an old pervert who treated his harem of captive girls like his property.
They worked his land by day, and by night, he took what he wanted from them, whether they were willing or not.
But Alyssa never gave him the satisfaction of submission. Her rebellion was carved into her skin in jagged scars, the price she paid every single time she fought him off.
One evening, as she and the other girls gathered heavy bundles of wheat in the field, a sudden silence fell over them.
Gerald had appeared at the edge of the field. He never came out unless it was absolutely important.
Beside Alyssa, Henna paused, her hands instinctively reaching for her swollen belly.
"Don’t look now, Alyssa," she whispered. "But I think Gerald is here for you."
Alyssa kept her sickle moving, her heart shifting into defensive mode. "Why do you say that?"
"He’s standing with the guard, pointing right at you."
Alyssa forced a bitter scoff, wiping sweat from her forehead. "He’s just being a major asshole."
"No, it’s different this time," Henna insisted, her eyes wide with quiet panic. "This is exactly how it started the day he came for me. He pointed me out to the guards, and seconds later, I was dragged into his quarters. A month later, I turned up pregnant. I don’t want you to meet the same fate."
Looking at Henna’s pale face, Alyssa’s anger softened into a fierce protectiveness.
Over the miserable three years, the two of them had become survival sisters, holding each other together in the dark.
"I’ll be fine, Henna," she said softly, forcing a reassuring smile. "Just worry about your baby. The day I find a way out of here, I’m taking you with me. I promise."
Henna smiled, but it was a sad, broken smile. "I can’t go with you. I have nothing left, no home to go back to. But you have your whole life ahead of you."
Their conversation was suddenly cut short when a massive, muscular brick of a guard stopped beside them.
Without a single word of warning, he grabbed Alyssa and yanked her to her feet.
"Hey!" she screamed, her adrenaline spiking instantly. "Get your hands off me!"
The guard ignored her completely. He dragged her through the dirt to where Gerald was waiting.
"Take her to the barn," he ordered. "The men are already waiting inside."
Terror, cold and sharp, seized Alyssa’s throat. Men? What men?
Before she could form a thought, the guard hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
She thrashed, beating her fists against his back, kicking her legs wildly, but his grip was a vice.
Through the fast approaching dusk, she could see Gerald walking behind them, looking entirely smug.
When they reached the barn, the guard threw her down onto the rough earth.
She groaned painfully from the fall, but the pain quickly vanished the moment she looked up.
Standing in the dim light of the barn were three fearsome, heavily muscled border guards.
They were shirtless, their bare chests slick with sweat, their eyes locked onto her with a disgusting, leering hunger.
"Gentlemen," Gerald’s voice echoed from the doorway. He gripped the handle of the barn door, grinning like a fool. "This one is yours. Careful, though. She’s a total spitfire."
The realization hit Alyssa. They weren’t just going to abuse her. They were going to break her completely.
The barn door slammed shut, the latch clicking into place, leaving her entirely at the mercy of the three predators.
"Come here, little roach," the first one sneered, stepping forward with a slow, arrogant stride. "If you behave yourself, we might just go easy on you."
Alyssa backed away until she felt the wooden wall behind her. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but her survival instinct instantly kicked in.
She crouched, her fingers wrapping around the small knife hidden in her boot, the one she smuggled from the kitchen months ago and carried every single day.
When the first man lunged, reaching out to grab her hair, she was ready.
She whipped the knife out and drove it straight into his outstretched hand. The metal sank deep.
The man roared in agony, stumbling backward as blood sprayed onto the ground.
The other two guards bared their canines, charging at her with a feral rage.
As the second man reached for her, she dropped to the ground, rolling entirely out of his grip.
She scrambled onto her knees and, with every ounce of survival-driven force she had, landed a brutal, crushing kick straight between his legs.
"You... fucking... bitch!" the man wheezed, his eyes rolling back. His knees buckled instantly, and he collapsed onto the dirt floor, groaning in agony.
A wild surge of adrenaline exploded through Alyssa’s veins. She scrambled to her feet, but the third man was already on her. She wasn’t quick enough.
He delivered a brutal kick straight into her stomach. The force of it launched her backwards, knocking the air completely out of her lungs.
White-hot pain rippled through her abdomen, and blood sputtered from her lips as she hit the earth, coughing violently.
"You’re not going anywhere, fucking whore!" the guard snarled, towering over her, his hands reaching down to pin her shoulders.
The moment his fingers touched her skin, she lunged upward like a wild animal.
She threw her arms around his neck, locked her teeth onto his ear, and bit down with everything she had.
She bit through cartilage and flesh, pulling with a feral intensity until the man let out a piercing, high-pitched scream.
With a sickening rip, she tore his ear completely off.
The man flung her away, howling in rage as he clutched the bleeding, ruined side of his face.
Everything happened in a matter of minutes.
Taking advantage of the situation, Alyssa threw her weight against the loose, weathered boards at the back of the barn.
She crashed through the splintering wood, struggled to her feet, and ran.
She had no idea how long she ran, or what path she took through the dense, pitch-black forest.
Sharp thorns tore through her boots, cutting the soles of her feet. Her lungs burned, but she kept moving, pushing herself past her limits because she knew what was behind her.
Just when she thought she had finally put enough distance between herself and her tormentors, a sharp sound shattered the quiet night.
Thwack!
An arrow whizzed past her ear, narrowly missing her face by an inch.
She whirled around in blind panic, just in time to see another shape flying through the shadows.
Before she could dodge, the arrow struck her directly in the upper arm.
A shrill scream tore from her throat. The sheer force of the impact knocked her off her feet, sending her crashing to the ground.
Breathing heavily, she scurried backward on her elbow, her wide eyes landing on the shadows emerging from the trees.
It was Gerald. He was holding a hunting bow, flanked by two of his guards, tracking her down like some prey.
Gritting her teeth until her gums bled, she grabbed the wooden shaft sticking out of her flesh. With a brutal snap, she broke the head of the arrow and yanked the shaft out.
Tears of pure agony burned her eyes as a fresh torrent of dark blood spilled down her arm, soaking her torn dress.
She was losing too much blood, her vision already blurring into dark patches.
Yet, she forced her trembling legs to stand and continue. If she let them drag her back now, death would be a mercy compared to what Gerald would do to her.
Behind her, the heavy sound of crashing footsteps grew louder. Gerald and his guards were closing the distance, mere meters away.
But just as they reached the edge of a thick pine grove, Gerald suddenly stopped.
"Wait!" he shouted, throwing his arm out to halt his guards. "Don’t step through that grove if you value your life!"
The two guards stopped, shifting on their feet, looking around the dark woods in confusion.
"What pack is this, Sir Gerald?" one asked.
"Don’t you know?" Gerald hissed, his voice dropping into a tight, panicked whisper. "This is the border of the Northern territory. The home of the Demon Lycan."
At those words, the two guards went completely rigid, their faces turning pale under the moonlight.
Everyone knew the legend of the Demon Lycan. He lived completely secluded from the other packs, a ruthless, heartless monster who answered to no one.
The rumors said his mansion grounds were a graveyard, and that he held a bloodbath every single full moon.
He was a creature of pure nightmare, and absolutely no one dared to cross his lines.
"What... what do we do now, Sir Gerald?" the second guard stammered, his entire body trembling with fear.
"We retreat while we still have the chance," Gerald muttered, his arrogant demeanor completely gone as he stared into the dark forest ahead. "If we dare take a single step into his territory, we’re done for."
"But what about her?" the first guard pointed into the distance, where Alyssa’s staggering, bleeding figure was fading into the dark trees.
Gerald sneered and turned away.
"She’s as good as dead anyway. If she doesn’t die from the blood loss, the Demon Lycan will tear her to pieces for trespassing. Let’s go."
He quickly walked away, his guards scrambling after him in a frantic hurry to leave the border.
...
Dorian stood upon the flat roof of his mansion, his head tilted back toward the dark, starless sky.
His eyes were closed, the cool evening wind ruffling through his long, dark hair.
This roof was the only place he could find a little peace, a quiet escape from his overbearing fiancée and the relentless, suffocating questions of the court council.
Wrapped tightly around his large fist was the sash from the mystery girl he met three years ago.
He had searched relentlessly for her, turning every single pack upside down, dragging trackers through neighboring territories, and checking every border.
He never found her.
But he hadn’t forgotten. His wolf refused to let the memory go.
Women had never really appealed to him, and that was why he was so fiercely hellbent on finding her, to understand the unnatural, primal grip she had on his soul.
Suddenly, a sharp scent wafted past his nostrils, cutting through the crisp air.
His eyes snapped open, the pupils narrowing into slits.
Blood. Someone was bleeding heavily.
He looked down, his predatory gaze instantly zeroing in on the fragile figure crawling through the dense treeline towards the mansion.
Without a sound, he leaped off the roof, landing lightly on the grass below, and moved with terrifying speed toward the intruder.
The closer he got, the more his beast began to thrash against his mind, growing wildly restless as if it recognized the person approaching.
He whipped his claws out, his canines pushing past his lips in a vicious snarl, ready to tear the intruder to pieces.
But then, a secondary scent brushed past his face.
Rain. Lavender. Wet earth. The exact smell he had kept wrapped around his fist for three long years.
His claws snapped back. His canines retracted.
He stood entirely frozen in the moonlight, his chest heaving as he stared down at the vulnerable, broken form of the very girl he had spent years trying to find.
Alyssa dragged her eyes upward, her blurred vision clearing just enough to see the towering figure before her.
Her blue eyes widened in a shock of instant recognition.
With her knees completely giving out, she collapsed, her blood-stained hand reaching out towards him.
"Help me," she whispered, before the darkness claimed her.