Into the Wild Unknown with the Exiled Alpha

Alpha Matias tilts his head slightly, a dark smile playing on his lips as he clasps his hands together. "Then you'll be locked up once more. You wouldn't want that, would you? I'd imagine it gets awfully lonely down there."

My blood turns to ice, and I suddenly feel a chill that goes bone-deep. It's as though I can already sense the cold stone against my skin and the deafening silence enveloping me.

I hide my fear behind a scoff, striving to maintain a facade of defiance, even as I'm inwardly on the verge of breaking down, dropping to my knees, and begging to retain my freedom.

"You wouldn't," I force my words to sound like a challenge, but deep inside, I feel like crumbling, like begging to keep my liberty.

Alpha Matias smiles again, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. "Oh, but I would."

He revels in this. There's no doubt about it; he derives pleasure from my predicament.

I find myself gazing down at my shoes, a surge of heat coloring my cheeks. It's humiliating how easily he can manipulate me with a single threat.

This can't be real...

"The wedding is set for Thursday," the Alpha's words cut through me like a chilling gust of wind, dispelling any hope that this might be a nightmare. "That should give you ample time. Now, off you go. I believe you have a ceremony to prepare for."

Of course, forced into an enAdkinsment, and I'm still the one tasked with arranging the party I want nothing to do with.

My feet move mechanically toward the door, eager to escape. However, not before I knock a potted plant off a nearby table. The crash of shattering clay echoes in the room's thick silence.

"Bitch," I mutter under my breath.

"What did you say?" Wyatt snaps, surprising me that he doesn't delegate this to his father either.

I consider offering a sarcastically sweet reply, but instead, I opt for honesty. There's no reason to hold my tongue any longer.

I pivot sharply on my heel to face him, locking eyes with him and delivering my words like venom-tipped arrows. "Bitch. That's what I said," I declare, loud and clear. "You're a damn bitch, and I fervently hope that one day your rotting, eyeless corpse is discovered floating in a river because the fish have already feasted on your eyes."

My skin feels like it's ablaze, and my lungs yearn for air. I mean every word I say, and my tone drips with not just hatred, but a seething, visceral loathing.

Without waiting to see if he'll further belittle me or if his father will condemn me to the depths again for my insolence, I slam the door behind me with enough force to leave a prominent crack across the wood.

Rather than returning to prepare for the party as ordered, I make a beeline for one of the small cabins in the village, heading straight to my bedroom, which resembles a loft.

Fairy lights twinkle along the tops of dark grey walls. The room bathes in natural light from a large window, adjacent to my bed. I flop onto it, burying myself in the sheets.

Just forget it. Forget everything.

Forgetting is always easier. Except this time, I can't chase away the dreadful thoughts.

The wedding is on Thursday. That leaves me with four days. Four days left of freedom. Four days left to figure out how to save myself.

Then, in a random recollection, I remember what Wyatt mentioned before I burst into the room.

"That lunatic is still out there! How can I assume control of him lurking, waiting to pounce?"

What lunatic was he referring to? And how does this relate to his urgent need for a Luna before becoming the Alpha?