When I woke, the world was too bright, too sharp—as if I were peering through a fractured ice crystal. The remnants of that pulsing blue-white light in my temples made my bones vibrate like shards of glass with every breath. My mind was a wreckage; it felt as though someone had ripped my soul out, submerged it in icy waters, and shoved it back in, twisted and jagged.
When I forced my eyes open, the first thing I saw was a massive, dark mass looming over me like a death sentence.
Varg.
His presence was like a black hole, swallowing every drop of oxygen in the room. He still carried the scent of the soot-stained forest, the metallic tang of fresh blood, and that irrepressible, raw scent of an alpha. The smoldering fire in his eyes had been replaced by a chilling, uncanny silence I had never seen before.
This wasn't the way a man looked at a woman; it was the way a general inspected a foreign bomb that had suddenly appeared in his armory, uncertain of when it might detonate.
"Wake up, freak..." Varg rasped.
His voice was a coarse, unrefined growl, like stones grinding together in the depths of a cavern.
As I tried to rise, every cell in my body revolted. "Chloe..." I managed through parched, cracked lips. My voice sounded like it was echoing from a foreign cellar. "The purple scarf... Where is Samuel? What happened to Chloe?"
Without a word, Varg reached out. With his rough, calloused, and massive hand, he pressed down on my shoulders so hard I thought my spine would shatter against the stiff mattress. He pinned me back down as if I were a mere object, a child, or a lifeless thing that simply needed to stay in its place. He didn't hesitate to make me feel that with a single finger, he could crush my entire will.
"Samuel is outside, calming the pack that's in an uproar because of that strange glow of yours," Varg said. As he leaned in, the smell of soot and blood from his stubble hit my face. His proximity was not a mercy; it was an open threat. "As for you... you will not leave this room until further notice. Until we understand what you are and what kind of poison you carry in your blood, this door will remain locked."
"Are you locking me in?" I cried out. As that white light within me surged again with fury, I tried to push against his steel-like chest with my weakened hands. "I am not your prisoner, Varg! I am a guest!"
Varg didn't even flinch; my touch was nothing more than a fly's buzz to him. His lips curled into a disdainful smirk, void of even a shred of kindness.
"Guests do not emit abnormal lights at my table and frighten my wolves, Vespera. Right now, you are nothing but an anomaly that needs to be contained. And I am far too busy to allow your unknown powers to trigger a catastrophe."
He stood up. He was so tall that the ceiling seemed to groan under the weight of his shoulders. Without looking back, he strode toward the door with heavy, thunderous steps.
"Varg, please!" My voice turned into a plea. "My friend is out there! That scarf was bloody! Chloe might be dying! Don't you see how alone I am? I have no one here but you!"
Varg stopped as he gripped the handle, but he didn't turn around. His broad back rose before me like an impassable fortress wall.
"Mourning the dead is for the weak," he said, his voice echoing with the coldness of a tombstone. "If your friend is that fragile, I'll bring you her wretched corpse. Now, be silent and sleep. If I hear your voice again, I'll have you bound with silver chains in the deepest cellar of this house, where the sun never reaches. Believe me, no one will care how much you glow down there."
Click.
When I heard the sound of the heavy metal lock, my dignity took its last breath on the snowy peaks of Alberta.
As the door closed, the silence in the room lunged at me like a starving beast. That small, simple sound of a lock had severed my hope like a blade. I rushed to the door, my fists pounding against the coarse oak. The sound was a scream that synchronized with the frantic rhythm of my heart. I struck until my hands bled and my throat burned.
"I am not an object! You can't lock me in here! Don't you see how terrified I am?"
There was no answer. In the hallway, there were only the retreating sounds of heavy boots. Varg had walked away without looking back. For him, the matter was settled; he had locked a "problem" in a room and put the key in his pocket.
"Varg! Please! There's no one even coming for me!" I wailed, my nails clawing at the rough grain of the wood. "You dragged me into this hell! Do you have no mercy? Do you have no heart?"
Sobs choked my throat. I slumped to my knees, leaning my back against the door. My hands were trembling. The white vapors rising from my nail beds were thicker this time; it was as if the fire of my absolute loneliness was fueling this radiance.
I was afraid of my own power. I was afraid to be alone in this room with it.
I didn't know if minutes or hours had passed. There was a movement in the corridor. The sound of a tray being set down, followed by the clatter of bolts.
"Varg?" I lunged toward the door, clinging to a shred of hope.
"The Alpha is busy." said a coarse, unfamiliar voice. It wasn't Varg. "Eat your food, Luna. And keep your voice down, or the Alpha will order me to rip your tongue out."
"I need to speak with him! Please, tell him I'm dying here! This loneliness is killing me!"
"Sleep, Luna..." the voice said, and the service flap clicked shut.
Absolute darkness once again. That suffocating silence again.
I stood up and walked to the mirror. The reflection staring back wasn't that of an ordinary girl anymore. It was branded with fever, parched lips, and a wretched exhaustion. My hair was a tangled mess, and my eyes were bruised purple from weeping.
I was a shadow forgotten in a monster's castle, a presence considered nothing more than a burden. To Varg, I meant nothing.
I wasn't a woman, a human, or a soul.
I was just a "thing" to be kept in a room. And that reality was colder than those stone walls, more impassable than that locked door.