Annabelle's Point of View
The first thing I felt when Klaus left me was the cold floor beneath. I collapsed on the floor, coughing violently. I gasped for breath, my lips quivering.
"You should count yourself lucky because the Alpha wants you alive," he snarled.
I didn't dare lift my head to meet his gaze, my heart pounding, threatening to break through my rib cage.
"Strip!" he ordered.
I froze on the spot. My chest tightened. Despite how afraid I was, I felt anger course through my veins. How dare he command me?
"No," I whispered, my breath coming in short, haggard gasps.
He walked closer, crouching before me. His fingers grabbed my chin roughly, forcing my gaze to meet his.
"You don't get to say no," he hissed, his breath washing against my face.
His lips brushed against my neck, and I recoiled instinctively. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as if he enjoyed my fear. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply, like he was savoring my scent. I tried to push him away. I felt disgusted.
I knew nothing about turning a wolf on, but this looked like all shades of wrong. How was a wolf supposed to get turned on?
"Your wolf should be begging me right now," he murmured, licking my fingers slowly. "Why don't I hear her voice?" he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I didn't even know how to summon a wolf, let alone control one. I wasn't like them. I wasn't a part of their twisted world, and I would never be.
Klaus growled in frustration, his eyes narrowing. He kissed my neck harder this time, his actions growing desperate. Nothing. I felt no urge clawing beneath my skin. Just me—a terrified human watching a werewolf try to seduce her.
"You've done something," he accused, his voice dripping with anger as he rose. "Guards!" he barked, his voice echoing across the room.
Two huge men walked in, kneeling before him.
"Take her to the field and beat her until she learns respect!" he ordered.
The hell? The beating of my heart increased as I stared at them. What crime had I committed?
"No, please!" I begged, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.
They grabbed me by my wrist, forcing me out of the room and into the field. The cool night's air hit my face, my body trembling as I stared at the vast field—my torture ground.
My wrists were tied to a pole. I tried to plead for my life over and over again, but my words were meaningless.
The whip hit my back, tearing the fabric of my clothes, and I groaned in pain. I screamed as hard as I could, but it was useless. No one came to rescue me. They didn't even look at me. The wolves who passed continued their normal business, ignoring my presence.
The whip hit my back again and again until I was exhausted from screaming. The last number I could recall was fifty-five before I lost count of how long I had been flogged.
They loosened me, and I felt exhausted, too weak to move. All I could do was stare at their grim faces. They dragged me on the floor to the healer's home, unfazed by the rocks that hit my face, blood trickling down my forehead. This wasn't life; this was hell.
The healer worked quickly on my body, muttering some spells she knew by heart as she applied ashes to my wounds. Every touch sent sharp waves of pain through me, but I bit down on my lips to keep myself from crying out.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I wish there was another way."
Why couldn't they let me die in peace? Why were they bent on torturing me?
I stayed in the healer's home for some days, deprived of synthetic drugs and dependent heavily on herbs. Thankfully, the healer was skilled in ancient magic, and my wounds were healing.
How could I convince them that I wasn't even Kyle? I wasn't even a threat. I had been kidnapped, and now I was paying for the sins of another—someone I knew nothing about.
On the fifth day, the guards came for me. They dragged me to the dungeons, shutting the door behind me. The dungeon was dark, cold, and suffocating.
For hours—maybe days—I sat in the cell, my thoughts running wild. My stomach growled continuously, and with each passing minute, I felt weaker. When the guards came with my food, they tossed the small plate, and I bolted toward it, eating like my life depended on it. Well, it did.
The bread was stale, but I didn't mind. My hands shook as I ate, crumbs falling on the filthy floor.
"This isn't living," I mumbled to myself, tears rushing down my face.
A few days later, I was still in my dungeon when I heard noise outside. I could hear the wolves howl and the screams of innocent children. The pack was under attack. I could feel it.
I should have run and hidden in the darkest corners, but I stood rooted to the spot, praying that whoever attacked the pack would find me and put an end to my misery. Anything would be better than this endless torment.
After what felt like an eternity, the noises died down, silence settling in the atmosphere. A few hours later, the door to my dungeon was thrown open, and I swallowed hard, watching the angry crowd stand before me.
"She's the one!" one of them yelled, pointing in my direction.
I barely had time to think before they rushed into the room, grabbing me roughly like a rag doll and dragging me out of the dungeon. I squinted as the burning rays of the sun hit my eyes.
Dozens of eyes stared at me, rage engraved on their faces. Stones were thrown in my direction, and I cried out, wincing in pain. They didn't care. All I could hear from the growing chaos was:
"She led them here! Kill her!"
Wait, this was it? I had been brought here without my knowledge, forced to be the Alpha's runaway bride, and now I was accused of bringing rogues into the town? When would this madness stop? Why was I trapped in this labyrinth of pain?
"Please," I begged, shielding my face with my palm. Of course, my pleas fell on deaf ears.
"She's a spy!" one yelled.
I felt the stone collide with my forehead, blood trickling down. They spat on me, hitting me with items I couldn't even recognize.
I was dragged into the palace and forced to kneel while I stared at the Beta. He sat close to the huge golden throne, his expression unreadable.
He stood on his feet, and the noise died down. His eyes darted around the crowd, taking in their angry faces.
"What crime did she commit?" he asked, looking down at my pathetic form.
"She's a spy! She brought the attack on us!" they yelled in unison.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice calm yet commanding.
"Kill her!" they yelled.
My heart sank the moment the words escaped their lips. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the worst. This was it—the end I had always prayed for.
"Death?" Klaus asked coldly.