Held Captive by the Lycan King

I sat in the corner of my room, staring at the untouched tray of food. I hadn’t eaten in days, not that it mattered. Pierre’s servants had tried everything—begging, pleading, offering me all sorts of delicacies—but I refused every bite. I didn’t care if I starved. Maybe that would be the one thing I had control over.

There was a soft knock at the door, followed by muffled whispers outside. I ignored it, assuming it was another servant, another futile attempt to get me to eat. I wasn’t interested in playing along with their charade.

The door creaked open, and I glanced over, expecting the usual hesitant face. But when I saw who stepped into the room, my heart nearly stopped.

“Raphaella,” a familiar voice said softly.

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. Standing in the doorway, dressed in simple but elegant clothing, was a figure I thought I’d never see again.

“Davina?” I whispered, my voice barely audible, as if saying her name too loudly might cause her to vanish. I scrambled to my feet, my heart racing. “How… how are you here? I thought—”

“You thought I was dead,” Davina finished for me, her tone cool. She stepped closer, her eyes flicking briefly to the untouched food before settling back on me. “You thought I died in the pack war.”

I nodded, still stunned. “I mourned your death. Everyone said you didn’t make it, that you were caught in the attack. I never... I never thought I’d see you again.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, here I am.”

For a moment, I couldn’t move. The joy, the relief, the disbelief—it all washed over me in a tidal wave. My twin sister, the one person I had loved more than anyone else in the world, was alive. I rushed toward her, throwing my arms around her in a tight embrace.

“I can’t believe it,” I said, tears filling my eyes. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

But as I held her, something felt off. Davina’s body was stiff in my arms, her embrace cold and unfeeling. Slowly, I pulled back, searching her face for the warmth, the love we used to share. But her eyes—those eyes that mirrored my own—were distant, almost calculating.

“I’ve been here for a while,” she said, her voice oddly flat. “Pierre brought me back after the war. Maybe because he thought I was you.”

Pierre. Of course. My joy faltered slightly at the mention of his name. What was Davina doing here? Why hadn’t she reached out to me sooner?

“I didn’t know…” I said softly. “Why didn’t you—”

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” she interrupted, her smile still not touching her eyes. “I know you’ve had a lot to deal with.”

I stepped back, studying her carefully. Something about this reunion felt wrong, but I couldn’t place what it was. Still, I was so relieved to see her that I pushed the doubt aside.

“I’m so happy you’re alive,” I said, trying to hold onto the joy. “I’ve missed you so much.”

She gave a small, dismissive nod. “I’m here now. And Pierre asked me to take care of you.”

Her words jolted me. “Take care of me? What do you mean?”

Davina’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained carefully controlled. “You haven’t been eating, Raphaella. Pierre’s worried about you. He thought maybe you’d listen to me.”

I frowned, confusion swirling in my mind. Pierre had sent her? Why? And why had she agreed?

“I don’t need Pierre to send anyone to take care of me,” I said, the bitterness in my voice returning. “I don’t need anything from him.”

Davina’s smile turned sharp, almost mocking. “You always were stubborn.” She gestured to the tray of food. “But you need to take care of yourself. I can’t let you waste away like this.”

I looked at the food, then back at her. Something about her tone made me uneasy, but I couldn’t understand why. This was my sister. The one person I should be able to trust. But why did it feel like something had shifted between us?

“I’m not hungry,” I said quietly, turning away from the tray.

Davina sighed as if she were disappointed. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden harshness in her voice. When I turned to look at her, her expression was calm again, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lurking beneath the surface.

“I’m just trying to help you,” she said sweetly, but the warmth I had once known in her voice was gone.

“Why are you really here, Davina?” I asked. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

Her eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw it—the flicker of resentment, of something darker.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said softly, her voice dripping with something like venom.

I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. I had been so elated to see her, so relieved, but now I felt a cold dread creeping in. Davina wasn’t the same, and I had no idea what she had become in my absence. Nonetheless, she was still my sister and I knew she wouldn't harm me.

Unaware of the hatred simmering just beneath the surface, I whispered, “Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. I’m so glad you’re back.”