"Shit," I told myself as I paced back and forth in a cell they had put me in. If Roman found out about my past and what I was involved in, he would probably kill me for real. If he did not kill me himself, then these things would. They were underestimating the whole situation; I needed to get out of here—fast. I looked around; the place was dark but seemed like this was the only cage in the place. My eyes lit up when Ella walked in; she looked different and really intimidating without her usual smile.
I sighed as she walked towards me with a plate of food and a cup of water. "Please tell me you don't believe them too."
Ella shook her head in disappointment before glaring at me, she was being really strange. "Who are you really?"
I scrunched my eyebrows at her, "What?"
"Who the hell are you, and what exactly were you up to when you got caught in the deadlands?" she asked more precisely.
I smirked; oh, so this is how it was going to be. I was a fool thinking I had made a friend. People like me didn't have the privilege of having friends or love—I had learned that the hard way. I don't know what had gotten into me; I was not the good guy. I was what they called 'toxic'; I knew this, and god forbid that Banshee actually followed me here. I wanted to groan and just throw myself on the bed then sleep forever. "I'm sorry, Ella, but that information is really none of your business, love."
"I didn't want to believe any of it, but of course, you are the reason for all of this and the Alpha..." she placed the plate and cup on the floor by my cell. "He knows," she said before walking away.
I blinked twice before punching the wall beside me. "Shit...shit!" I screamed.
If he knew—if he really knew—I was so fucking dead. This was it; it was really over for me, and I couldn't even do anything about it. Time seemed to be moving slowly in here; I sat on the floor in the corner of my cell staring at the wall. It reached a point where I didn't even know if it was day or night because I had no windows down here, just the flickering lights; it felt like a horror movie. I didn't eat or sleep; being down here made me feel like the devil; all I could think about was how much of a fuck up I was. I couldn't do anything right; everything I did always ended up with someone getting hurt or people dying.
I don't know what day it was, but when Roman walked in, my heart started racing. I don't know if it was my wolf that was so excited and relieved, or it was just me freaking out. Was he here to kill me? I watched him closely, and my eyes zoomed in on his shirtless body. He was covered in blood and scratches. His right shoulder had a really deep cut that was oozing out blood. He wasn't healing properly; he would keep losing a lot of blood; when a bad banshee cuts or bites you, it's lethal. If he were human, he would be dead by now. My wolf was very agitated seeing her mate in this state. My eyes widened as he threw a banshee's head on the ground right in front of my cell.
I watched him carefully; his beta walked in with a big bucket, and he emptied about six more heads right in front of my cell. "What are you doing?" I finally broke the silence.
"Giving you company," Roman said in a dry tone.
I had no control over the words that came out of my mouth, but I cringed right after speaking. "Maybe you should save the drama and get those patched up... Alpha," I said, staring at the wounds covering his body.
In a second, he had my face in his grip. "You see those heads; once I'm done collecting the last of them, yours will be rotting in the dirt next to them," he said before disappearing.
I gritted my teeth; well, he seemed very serious about ending me. At this point, I was tired, maybe it was because I stopped eating. I wasn't exactly born a werewolf, so there was still some human left in me. I got weak easily; I could get hurt easily; I wasn't the fastest either, and to top it off, it would be very easy to kill me, especially while I was stuck in here. I watched the heads and the eyes of the banshees; it looked like they were staring at me.
It seemed like years just sitting and staring at the heads on the floor. No one cared to remove them; they were starting to release a heavy bad smell; it was unbearable. I tried eating a piece of bread, but I immediately puked. My head was pounding, and my body was sweating a lot. My red hair was stuck to my sweaty face; I moved away from my vomit and sat in the other corner. I knew I was sick; something was wrong, but I just didn't know what it was, but with me, it could be a fever or food poisoning. It could be the most straightforward things, but no one could know I was born human. I would take that information to my grave; I pushed the bread away.
How could I tell them to make sure they give me proper food? Werewolves did not get food poisoning; they didn't get sick.I coughed as I felt bile rise up my throat and the next thing I was puking this yellow sour liquid until I felt my stomach heating up. I was so weak my vision got blurry when someone walked in I could barely see them but I recognized her voice .
"Well this makes my job a whole lot easier" Samantha said with a laugh