Chapter 21 - Breakfast

Natalie~

The first thing I noticed when I woke up, was how strangely well-rested I felt. My eyelids fluttered open to soft light filtering through beautiful, white, transparent curtains, and for a moment, I thought I was dreaming. The soft mattress beneath me was far too comfortable, the blanket too warm and secure. Confusion settled over me like a fog as I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes.

I blinked around the room, my heart skipping a beat when recognition struck. This room. This bed.

This was definitely Zane's house.

Panic bubbled up in my chest as fragments of yesterday slammed into my consciousness. The fight. Timothy. The masked man—his voice, his unexpected kindness, and then...

That son of a bitch! He handed me over to Zane's people. Like a package.

A cold chill spread through me as I recalled the humiliating memory, followed by shouting at Zane to kill me. After that? Blank. I clenched the blanket tightly in my fists, breathing unevenly. Had Zane knocked me out after saying that? Did he plan to kill me later, on his terms? Is that why I'm here now?

Why did I ask him to kill me in the first place? What had gotten into me?!

I pressed my hands against my face, trying to calm the storm brewing in my mind. The room seemed to close in around me; the air I breathed felt thick and suffocating. My heart quickened.

Suddenly, something shifted under the blanket.

I froze, my heart lurching to my throat. Was it a person? No. An animal? My fingers trembled as I readied to throw the blanket off and run—when a small, familiar head popped out from under.

"Jack?" I gasped, staring in disbelief.

The wolf pup wagged his tail, his tongue lolling out as he yawned sleepily. A cry of relief escaped me, and I scooped him into my arms, clutching him tightly.

"Oh my God, Jack! I'm so glad to see you!" I exclaimed, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. He wagged his tail harder, his little face lighting up with delight.

For a moment, the fear in my chest softened, replaced by a gentle wave of gratitude and warmth. I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his furry little head before setting him on the ground. I got out of the bed quickly and straightened the sheets, smoothing out every wrinkle as if it would somehow hide my presence. Once it was done, I sat cross-legged on the floor and scooped Jack into my lap.

Jack tilted his head to the side, his yellow eyes full of curiosity, and I let out a faint smile. "You're probably think I'm silly, don't you?" I murmured, running my fingers through his soft fur. "I told you before, fancy beds like that... they scare me. What if someone comes in and sees me on it? What if they get mad and they—" My voice broke for a moment, and I swallowed hard, shaking off the dark memories threatening to surface. Instead, I scratched behind his ears, and his tail thumped against my leg.

I giggled softly, the sound fragile but real, and his little tail wagged faster. "You're a good listener, you know that?" I said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Even if you don't really understand me, and I might be killed any minute from now, it feels nice to talk to someone before I go... especially you."

He blinked up at me as if urging me to go on, and so I did. "Yesterday was... well, it was a lot," I began, my fingers moving absently through his fur. "I was locked in this room for hours, but then, this boy—he was so kind—he helped me escape." My voice grew softer, wistful. "He tried so hard to help me, but... well, you can see how that worked out."

I paused, staring at his bright eyes as they reflected the soft light of the room. "I'd like to see him again, though. Just to say thank you. He—" My voice wavered, and I looked down, my hand stilling against his little back. "He reminded me what it felt like to hope. To..."

Jack gave a quiet whine, nuzzling against my hand as if he understood the ache in my heart and before I could finish my words, Jack squirmed out of my lap, walked a few steps away, and to my greatest surprise, he began to shift.

My jaw dropped as his small wolf form stretched, melted, and reformed into the very boy I'd been talking about.

"Jack...?"

He stood before me, naked as the day he was born, his wide eyes shining with happiness.

"You're... the boy?" I whispered, shock rendering me motionless. "You're a werewolf?" Goddess, I was such an idiot.

Jack smiled brightly, nodding as he toddled back toward me. Before I could process it, he flung himself into my arms.

"Mummy Natalie!" he said, his babyish voice filled with relief. "I missed you so much! I thought I wouldn't see you again!"

My heart twisted at the name, and I hastily shrugged off my jacket to wrap it around him. His small body relaxed against mine as I held him close.

"Jack, you... you're amazing," I murmured, brushing his blond hair back. "I had no idea you were a werewolf. You're so young, and you can already shift?" There was a slight sting of jealousy in my voice.

He grinned up at me. "I'm just like you, Mummy!"

My breath caught, memories flooding back. I used to tell Jack stories—stories about my pack, my people—thinking he was just a wolf pup who wouldn't understand. How wrong I had been.

"Jack," I said carefully, holding his gaze. "Please don't tell anyone the things I told you. Especially your father. Don't tell them that I'm a werewolf. Please?"

He tilted his head, confusion flickering in his eyes.

"I'm not like the others," I explained, my voice trembling. "I don't have a wolf. If they find out..." My words trailed off, but the fear in my voice was unmistakable.

Jack's arms wrapped tightly around my neck. "I won't tell anyone, Mummy," he promised solemnly.

Tears stung my eyes again. He was so sweet, so pure, and his trust in me felt like a gift I didn't deserve.

After a moment, Jack slipped his small hand into mine and tugged gently. "Come on, Mummy," he said. "Let's go!"

"Go?" I blinked at him. "The door is locked, Jack."

"No, it's not!" he chirped.

Confusion warred with anxiety as I let him lead me to the door. He was right—the door opened easily.

My pulse quickened. What was going on?

Jack pointed down the corridor, just like he had yesterday when he helped me escape. But this time, his tiny finger led us to the dining room.

And there, sitting at the head of the table, was Zane.

I froze in the doorway, every nerve in my body screaming at me to turn and run. The memory of shouting at him to kill me surged to the forefront of my mind, and fear washed over me.

Before I could move, Zane's gaze met mine.

"Natalie," he called, his voice calm and surprisingly warm. "Come, join me."

I blinked, caught off guard by the kindness in his tone. He was smiling. Smiling. As if yesterday's events had been nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked as I hesitated, still rooted in place. "Are you hungry? What would you like to eat?"

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I set Jack down, my thoughts spinning. What game was he playing?

Before I could piece it together, another figure entered the room.

He was tall and elegant, with inky black hair swept back to reveal a face that could have belonged to a sculpture. His sharp jawline, smooth pale skin, and piercing gray eyes gave him an otherworldly beauty, and the tailored suit he wore only added to his aura of sophistication.

The man exuded power and allure, his every movement deliberate and fluid. He could have been a male model, easily gracing the cover of the most exclusive magazines.

"This paparazzi," he muttered distractedly, his eyes on his phone. "Always on my tail—"

Then he stopped, his gaze lifting.

Our eyes locked.

A slow smirk spread across his face, and he turned to Zane without breaking eye contact.

"Dear bestie, you didn't tell me," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "that you had something sweet waiting for me in the dining room."

My stomach flipped, and I took an involuntary step back.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of me. His speed was inhuman, his presence overwhelming.

Fangs glinted as his lips parted, and realization struck me like a thunderbolt.

Vampire.

He grabbed me before I could react, his eyes glowing unnaturally bright. His grip tightened, and I felt his breath against my skin as he leaned in—

"Sebastian, she's not food."

Zane's voice cut through the room, calm and lazy.

Sebastian froze, his fangs inches from my neck, and I stared at Zane in wide-eyed terror.