They locked me in a tower.
Not a metaphorical one. Not the kind rich girls use when talking about strict parents or bodyguards.
An actual stone tower, with a single window too narrow to squeeze through and an iron-bound door that clicked shut with the weight of centuries behind it.
They gave me food. Water. A bed softer than any I'd ever slept on.
But it was still a cage.
And I wasn't going to stay in it.
Not after what he did to me.
I stood in front of the mirror, my fingers brushing the bandage covering the bite on my neck. The skin underneath still pulsed like a second heartbeat. Sometimes I swore I could feel his presence through it, like a tether being tugged from the inside.
Killian Vance.
Alpha. Abductor. Arrogant bastard.
He marked me. Claimed me. And now he expected me to sit here quietly while he played king of the wolves?
Not a chance.
I waited until nightfall. The guards outside my door were just shadows, barely audible—disciplined, sure, but not omniscient.
They thought I was weak.
They thought I was broken.
Good.
I slipped on the soft-soled boots one of the servants had left, pulled a cloak from the wardrobe, and tested the window again. Still too narrow. But the walls…
Old. Uneven.
I ran my hands across the stone, fingers seeking a crack, a flaw, anything.
There. Near the corner, a section that gave just slightly under pressure.
I pushed harder. Something shifted.
Dust fell, and with it, a narrow gap opened behind the tapestry—one just wide enough for someone desperate and determined.
I squeezed through.
The tunnel was dark, barely wide enough to crawl, but it sloped downward. Cold air hit my face.
Freedom.
I followed it, scraping my hands and knees, ignoring the way my pulse throbbed with every move.
I didn't know where it led. I didn't care. As long as it was away from him.
Away from this place.
Away from the bond.
The tunnel spat me out near the lower courtyard. Moonlight spilled across cobblestones slick with dew. The walls of the Shadowfang stronghold loomed above, black and ancient, spiked with towers and guards with glowing eyes.
I ducked behind a cart, cloak drawn tight, and waited.
A pair of sentries passed by. I held my breath.
Then I moved.
I kept to the shadows, slipping through cracks in the wall, ducking behind crates and stone columns. The gate wasn't far now—two massive doors reinforced with silver and iron.
One of them was slightly ajar.
I nearly laughed.
Almost too easy.
Then a voice behind me: "You think we'd leave the door open for you, little human?"
I froze.
Turned.
The sentry who stepped out from the shadows was huge—at least six-foot-six, with eyes that shimmered yellow and a smirk that showed just enough fang.
"Let me go," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Can't," he said cheerfully. "Alpha's orders."
I reached for the dagger I'd hidden in my boot.
He was faster.
In one motion, he had me disarmed and pinned against the wall, his hand on my throat—not choking, just enough to remind me that I wasn't in control.
"Don't," he said. "You'll only make it worse."
Before I could spit in his face, a low voice echoed across the courtyard.
"Bring her to me."
The sentry stiffened. "Yes, Alpha."
I closed my eyes.
No.
Not him.
Not now.
Not when I'd almost made it.
They dragged me through the courtyard like a runaway mutt.
The sentry who caught me kept one hand locked around my arm, the other gripping the dagger he'd taken from my boot. I walked without resistance now—no point in struggling. Not here. Not yet.
I saved every ounce of rage for him.
Killian waited at the top of the stairs, his arms folded, bathed in moonlight. He didn't look surprised. He didn't even look angry.
He looked… disappointed.
That somehow made it worse.
The sentry shoved me to my knees.
"I found her near the west gate, Alpha."
Killian's eyes didn't leave mine. "Alone?"
"She got through one of the old tunnels. Didn't know it still connected."
Killian nodded once. "You're dismissed."
The guard hesitated. "You sure—?"
"I said go."
The silence that followed was thicker than stone. The flames in the sconces flickered like they were trying to get away, too.
I stood up slowly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me grovel.
"I'm surprised it took you this long to try," he said.
I didn't answer.
Killian stepped forward. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? That the bond wouldn't warn me?"
"I don't care what the bond says," I spat. "I'm not yours."
"You are."
"No, Killian. You marked me without consent. You took me. You locked me in a goddamn tower."
His voice dropped. "And yet, you still carry my scent."
My hands curled into fists.
"I will tear that mark off my skin," I said through clenched teeth. "Even if it kills me."
Killian's expression didn't change. But something cold flickered behind his eyes.
"Try it," he said. "See what happens when you fight a bond older than your bloodline."
"You act like this is fate. Like it's sacred. But you're just a man who uses rituals to mask control."
He was quiet for a moment. Then, "Is that what you think?"
"I know it."
Killian moved so fast I barely saw it. One moment he was three steps away. The next, he had me pinned against the pillar behind me, his body radiating heat, rage, and something far more dangerous—restraint.
"You want to run again?" he said, his voice low, nearly a growl. "Do it. I'll give you a five-minute head start."
I stared at him, breath caught in my throat.
"And then?" I asked.
His lips brushed the shell of my ear. "Then I'll hunt you. Like wolves do."
The silence cracked.
He pulled back, his eyes burning silver now.
"You don't get it, Seraphina. This isn't a palace. This isn't your family's glass tower where you play pretend in silk and smiles. You're in my world now. And in my world, there are rules."
"You mean submission."
"I mean survival."
I shoved him. Hard. It was like pushing against a stone wall, but I did it anyway.
"Next time, I won't get caught," I said. "Next time, I'll make it out of this place—and I'll make sure no one ever chains me again."
Killian didn't flinch.
"I hope you try," he said quietly. "It'll make breaking you that much more satisfying."
I slapped him.
The sound echoed. Even the flames seemed to recoil.
Killian blinked once. Then slowly, he turned his cheek back toward me, eyes unreadable.
"Good," he murmured. "Hate me. Use it. It'll keep you sharp."
"You want me sharp so I can bleed better?"
"I want you alive."
"Why?"
His answer came without hesitation. "Because if you die, the bond dies with you. And there are things I've sacrificed too much to let that happen."
For a split second, I saw something flash in his expression. Not possession. Not power.
Something else.
Regret?
It was gone before I could name it.
Killian turned and walked toward the staircase. "You're not going back to the tower."
I narrowed my eyes. "What does that mean?"
"It means if you're going to keep running, I might as well see how far you can get from the ground floor."
"And if I don't run?"
He paused. Looked at me over his shoulder. "Then you'll learn what it means to walk beside an Alpha."
"I'd rather walk alone."
His mouth twitched. "You won't have to for long. Others are coming. Ones who won't ask before taking what they want."
I crossed my arms. "Let them come."
He stared at me like I was both foolish and fascinating.
Then, without another word, he disappeared into the shadows.
They didn't lock me in after that.
No guards outside my door. No enchanted cuffs. No iron bars.
Just walls made of stone, a door left ajar, and a silent challenge hanging in the air like a noose.
It was worse than confinement.
It was control disguised as freedom.
And I hated him more for it.
But I wouldn't forget.
I wouldn't forgive.
And one day, I'd make him pay for every single word of that oath.