AMORA'S POV;
As I sat there, staring blankly at the half-eaten food in front of me, my mind was anything but calm. Every word he spoke, every flicker of his gaze, seemed to pierce through me, unraveling whatever fragile sense of stability I'd managed to build around myself. His presence was like a force of nature, unsettling and unpredictable, and I was caught in its current, unable to find a foothold.
The grandeur of the room felt suffocating now, its opulence mocking the simplicity of my existence. I'd once believed that luxury meant freedom, that wealth could solve every problem. But now, sitting across from the man who held all the cards in this twisted game, I realized how wrong I'd been. Freedom had nothing to do with gold-plated cutlery or the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. It was the choice to live on your own terms, and that was something I still didn't have.
His eyes never left mine, as if he was waiting for me to say something, to react in some way. But what was there to say? I was a puppet dangling by his strings, my movements orchestrated by his whims. I wanted to scream, to shout at him, to demand answers. But what good would that do? He wasn't the kind of man who responded to demands. He was the kind who made them.
"Amora," he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. "There are things you don't understand yet, things about this world that will change everything you know." His words were heavy, weighted with meaning I couldn't yet grasp. "But you will learn in time."
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my racing heart. What did he mean? What was there to learn? My life had already been turned upside down, ripped from the normalcy I once knew, and tossed into a reality that made no sense. What more could there possibly be?
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. It was the question that had been burning in my mind since the moment he entered my life. "Why me? Why are you keeping me here?"
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. For a moment, I thought he might actually answer, that he might give me a glimpse into the mind behind that unreadable mask he always wore. But then, just as quickly, the shutters came down, and he was closed off again, distant, unreachable.
"You're not ready for the truth yet," he said, his tone cold and final. "But when the time comes, you'll understand everything."
My frustration bubbled over. "You keep saying that," I snapped, louder than I intended. "You keep talking about this mysterious 'truth' like it's some kind of secret that I have to earn. But I'm done waiting! I deserve to know what's going on!"
His expression didn't change; if anything, he looked almost amused by my outburst. "Patience, Amora," he said calmly, as if he were talking to a child throwing a tantrum. "Patience is a virtue you'll need if you're going to survive in my world."
His world. The words echoed in my mind like a sinister lullaby. I hated how he claimed ownership over everything—my actions, my thoughts, even my existence seemed to belong to him now. How had it come to this? How had I, who once had dreams of running far away, ended up under the control of a man who saw me as nothing more than a piece in his game?
"I'm not a pawn in your game," I whispered, my voice cracking with the effort to keep it steady. "I'm not something you can control."
His eyes flashed, just for a moment, with something dark and unreadable. "You've always been in my game, Amora," he said, leaning forward, his gaze piercing into mine. "From the moment you were born, you were destined to be part of this. You just don't know it yet."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless. My mind raced, searching for meaning, for something to hold onto in this sea of confusion. What did he mean by that? How could my life have anything to do with his world, with his twisted reality?
"You'll see," he continued, almost as if he could read my thoughts. "One day, you'll see how all the pieces fit together. And when that day comes, you'll thank me for not letting you go."
I opened my mouth to protest, to argue, but the words died in my throat. There was no point. Arguing with him was like fighting the tide; no matter how hard I pushed, he'd always pull me back in.
Just then, a loud knock echoed through the dining room, and Wilder, stepped in, his face as stern as ever. His eyes flicked briefly to me before focusing entirely on the Zale .He looked tense, his jaw set in a way that told me something was wrong.
"Alpha," Wilder said, his voice clipped and professional. "We have a situation. It's urgent."
The Alpha's eyes never left mine, even as he responded to Wilder. "Speak," he said, his tone as cold and sharp as a blade.
"We've received word from the patrol. There's been a breach on the southern border," Wilder reported, his gaze hardening. "It's the traitor again. He's left another message."
A flicker of annoyance passed over the ZALE's face, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. He didn't like to be interrupted, that much was clear. But this was more than just an interruption—it was a threat, something that seemed to pull his focus away from me and toward a danger I couldn't see.
He stood up, his movements fluid and controlled, like a predator stalking its prey. "Amora," he said, turning his gaze back to me, softer now but still filled with that dark intensity. "Stay here. Wilder will ensure you're safe. Do not leave this room."
"But—" I started to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced me. It was a command, not a suggestion. And despite my anger, my frustration, I nodded, swallowing the words I wanted to scream.
As he left the room with Wilder, the tension in the air seemed to thicken. I felt like I was sitting at the edge of a precipice, teetering on the brink of something vast and unknowable. There was so much I didn't understand, so many questions left unanswered, and every time I tried to grasp at the truth, it slipped through my fingers like sand.
Alone now, I stared at the grand dining room around me, the silence almost deafening. I was trapped in this mansion, in his world, and yet, I was more lost than ever. Who was this man who had claimed my life as his own? What kind of world had I stumbled into, and why did it feel like I was at the center of something much larger than I could comprehend?
My thoughts were a whirlwind, spinning faster and faster until I felt like I might be sick. I needed answers, and I needed them now. I couldn't just sit here and let my life be dictated by his rules, by his twisted sense of fate. I had to do something, anything, to break free from this suffocating grip he had on me.
Suddenly, a plan began to form in my mind, half-baked and desperate, but it was the only thing I had. I would find out what he was hiding in this mansion. I would learn the truth about this world he kept hinting at, the secrets he guarded so fiercely. And I wouldn't wait for him to reveal them on his terms. I'd do it on mine.
Steeling myself, I stood up from the table, my legs trembling slightly as I took a deep breath. This house was a maze of secrets, and somewhere within its walls was the key to my freedom. All I had to do was find it.
And with that thought, I took my first step into the unknown, knowing full well that once I started down this path, there would be no turning back.