Adela’s anger flared, and her tears were forgotten as she realized the chains were inhibiting her movement.
They tied her arms to her sides and went around the chair.
I escaped just to become a prisoner again.
She decided to change her tactic.
The man standing over her looked overconfident, but he didn’t know what was coming for him.
“They’re going to kill you if they find me with you,” Adela insisted.
“You’ve bitten off more than you can chew by taking me here.
Just let me go.
Unchain me.
It will be better for both of us.” The man stood up straight and began to slowly pace around.
At least her neck wasn’t chained because she could still turn her head and watch him move until he was behind her.
“Do you think you’re a prisoner?” he asked.
“The chains are to protect me from you.
How am I supposed to know if you’re a danger to me?” She took a much-needed deep breath to calm herself and continued holding back her pheromones.
If he were a wolf, he would be intoxicated like the others since she was a dominant omega.
That was how she became fated to three.
There wasn’t a bond strong enough to get rid of her scent.
“I’m not a danger,” she responded evenly.
“I’m just trying to escape.
I don’t want to be in these woods for any longer than I have to be.” The chains clanked as she struggled to move.
She let out a grunt of frustration.
To her surprise, as he stepped in front of her, the man lifted his left hand clad in a leather glove, and the chains fell from her body.
“Happy?” he asked.
“Very.” However, the second he was close enough, Adela sprang from the chair.
Her silver knife was in an easily accessible pocket.
Even though her wrists had been chained to her sides, she had wiggled enough to access the handle.
Despite giving him her smoothest attack, he easily blocked her by catching her wrists in one hand and throwing her to the floor.
As he did so, he disarmed her.
The weapon that was once hers was then pointed at her.
She glared at him from the cold floor.
“Silver,” he commented.
“That won’t work on me.
I’m not a vampire.” “What are you?” she spat.
“Give me back my knife and let me go.” To her surprise, he expertly flipped the knife in his hand until his thumb and pointer finger were holding the blade at the point.
He offered her the knife without argument.
At her confusion, he said, “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already.” She scoffed and grabbed the knife, but she didn’t put it away.
There was no reason to trust him.
Quickly, she got to her feet and kept her front towards him.
It was clear she was in a fighting stance based on her posture, but he seemed unbothered.
“Who is after you?” he wondered.
Her jaw clenched.
She was mistrustful, but if she answered his questions, would it soften him up enough to let her go?
He had already given her back her knife.
Maybe he was an idiot.
“The werewolves,” she admitted that much.
“And you’re one of theirs?” he asked.
“There are treaties that state they aren’t to go this far into the forest.
It’s beyond their territory lines.” She eyed him, her posture stiff as she began to back away further.
She felt she needed to be careful, or she was going to find out what he meant when he said he could hurt her if he wanted to.
“I’m a half-breed,” she explained.
“Please, forgive them.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
I will leave your territory as soon as you let me go.
My only goal is to get far away from here before they can find me.” “And from there, where do you plan to go?” he inquired.
Her eyes only left him for a moment as she pushed a curtain to the side and, unfortunately, only saw a window behind it that was covered in bars, so she couldn’t get out.
“Anywhere else,” she explained.
“Maybe back to Man’s World.
I’m not sure yet.” “Do you have anyone left on the outside?” he continued his questioning.
Her anger flared again as her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t need anyone else,” she insisted.
“My parents never did anything for me anyway.
My mom sold me out, and my father died saying he would protect me.
You see how well he did.” As she continued to move with the silver knife pointed at him, she found yet another dead end behind a different curtain.
“Just where the hell is this?” she snapped.
“Why won’t you tell me who you are?” Frustrated, she pushed through what she thought were all the curtains, only to find barred windows behind each one.
Her temper was growing.
She turned to him when he finally spoke.
“This place is called the Devil’s Dungeon,” he offered.
“As for who I am, you can call me Lucifer.” Before she could answer, the man flicked his wrist again, and the bricks toward the center of the room fell.
Stairs were revealed to her.
“You’re free to go,” he said.
“But I warn you, the wolves have overtaken the last place you were in the forest.” Adela was about to step down the stairs, but she froze at the sound of howling.
It sent a chill through her.
The man found it interesting that her being imprisoned with a stranger was worse than going back to the werewolves despite her being one of them.
“Just what are you to them?” Lucifer asked, his black eyebrows lowered.
“I’m next in line to become Queen, but…” For some reason, the struggle she faced caused a lump to form in her throat.
Her strong facade was beginning to crack.
“But…?” he wondered.
Her blue eyes became watery, but she was determined not to crumble.
“I don’t want to,” she admitted, her voice strained.
“I can’t do this anymore.
I hate the werewolves.
I hate them as much as I hate myself.
These instincts… all of it.” “What have they done to you?” he asked, his tone serious.
Adela tripped as she backed away, refusing to go down the stairs but also refusing to be close to a strange man.
She was on her backside and prone, but her defiant expression was her armor, and she still gripped her silver knife.
“What does it matter to you!?” she demanded.
“It isn’t as if you’re going to save me.”