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Chapter 3

last update publish date: 2025-08-28 18:11:25

Amelia

I freeze under the man’s weight and the pressure on my throat. I watch his eyes for another moment, wondering if that ethereal flash of gold will return.

Wondering if I just imagined it.

As I swallow, I realize he’s not even pushing down on my throat that hard. I take a steadying breath, remembering every time I’ve been pinned before.

At least this time, it’s by someone who’s afraid and trying to defend himself instead of those who have held me down intentionally to hurt me.

“I have no connection to the werewolves chasing you,” I say, confirming the lack of pressure on my throat by how easily I’m able to speak. “I’m just a human slave like you.”

The stranger searches my face as if expecting a lie hidden there, and I feel bad for whatever in his history has taught him to anticipate that.

Apparently, he feels satisfied with whatever he finds because he slowly loosens his grip and lets me go. I move slowly myself, not wanting to startle him, and we untangle as I scoot out from underneath him.

As I do, he slumps over in the bed, and I realize he’s not as fully recovered as I thought. Slowly reaching into the corner of the space, I pick up the bread that I stole from the kitchen last night.

I saved half of it for him in the hopes that he would recover enough to eat. It’s hard and difficult to chew, but it’s something.

I extend my arm slowly toward the man drawing heavy breaths on my bed, offering him the remaining half loaf. He eyes it warily but doesn’t take it.

“Where are we?” he asks.

“The Home for the Forgotten orphanage,” I reply, wishing I had a better answer for him. “My new werewolf masters will be back in a couple days to collect me on my eighteenth birthday, though I plan to escape before then.”

I offer him the food again, and his hand shakes as he finally takes it. “What is this?” he asks.

I’m surprised he doesn’t recognize something as simple as bread, and anger boils in my belly at the thought of whatever hellhole he must have escaped from.

“It’s bread. Um… a type of food. It’s pretty plain and doesn’t provide a ton of nutrients, but it’s better than nothing.”

He only stares at the half loaf in his hand, and I shrug. “Usually, it’s better than what you have there, but the director of the orphanage isn’t feeding me right now as punishment for my last escape attempt. I had to steal this from the kitchen for us to share, and it would have raised suspicions if I had stolen a fresher one, but they don’t really care when the old loaves go missing.”

The man’s gaze tracks me warily as I stand. “I need to go steal more food for my escape, so I’ll be gone for a bit.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I wonder what else he might need while I’m gone.

“The bathroom’s in the corner of the larger room over here,” I point in the direction of the faucet. “Feel free to use the cup to drink, and make sure to keep yourself and the bread hidden if anyone comes down here. I doubt anyone will, but I’m not supposed to have food or guests.”

I wait to see if he’ll say anything. When he doesn’t, I offer him a tentative smile, then take off out the basement door and up the stairs.

Owen

I watch the girl walk away, listening to her footsteps ascend into this unknown building. This is who saved me. Not only a girl, as she mentioned she’s not yet eighteen, but a human girl.

A human girl saved the Alpha Prince and recognized heir of the royal wolf pack.

On top of that, she clearly thinks I’m human. Really, the whole thing is laughable.

Then again, I started yesterday with my brother poisoning me, so maybe my whole life is one big farce.

The girl mentioned werewolves chasing me, which I don’t remember, but they were probably sent by my brother to hunt me down, hoping I’d be an easy target once I was poisoned.

And yet I was saved by a human girl. One who seems so fragile.

Except for maybe those blue eyes of hers that I woke up to. They were gentle and calm, yet determined and unrelenting.

I look suspiciously at the food she left in my hands, hesitating. I can tell by my sweat- and blood-stained clothes that I’ve already recovered from a fever, which means I’m on the mend. Still, I feel weak, and I need to regain my strength.

I take a bite of the food.

It tastes… terrible. It’s very hard to chew and feels rough going down my throat. The kingdom sends substantial subsidies to the orphanages every year, yet this is the kind of food they provide?

Granted, the girl mentioned this food wasn’t fresh, but still.

Inhaling deeply, I’m accosted by an awful stench. I can’t tell how much of it is this basement the girl said I’m in and how much of the smell is me, so I wander into a larger room in search of the bathroom she mentioned.

I search the entire room twice until I conclude that she must have been referring to a simple faucet in the corner. This girl lives here? In these conditions?

I wrinkle my nose at the stench that I can now distinguish is radiating from the walls and the floor.

“She smells nice. Wonderful. Better than this room,” my wolf comments.

I peel off my stained clothes to rinse myself off under the faucet. The girl is beautiful, too – not that it matters.

“She shouldn’t live like this,” my wolf continues. “We should take her with us. Help her escape.”

The basement door opens behind me, and I turn to see the girl carrying a bundle of food. She slams to a halt at the sight of me, her wide eyes raking over me. “Why aren’t you wearing clothes?” she asks rather loudly for someone who isn’t supposed to have guests.

Right. I always forget how modest humans are. It’s a strange trait to me, to all werewolves, since nudity is such a natural state of being.

“My clothes smell terrible,” I explain, picking them up from where I left them on the floor. “I don’t suppose you have any I could borrow?”

She quickly averts her gaze from my body, her eyes dancing around awkwardly to look anywhere but at me. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone, and surely not a werewolf, respond to nakedness with such discomfort. Her reaction amuses me, and I feel a mischievous urge to tease her.

Stained clothes in hand, I deliberately step closer. She moves back in tandem with me until she’s pressed against the wall behind her. She drops her bundle of food, which I easily catch, and puts her hands on my chest to stop me from advancing.

“Won’t you please clothe yourself immediately!” she shouts even though I’m right in front of her.

My wolf stirs at the sensation of her hands on my bare chest. Confused, I hesitate, but my thoughts are cut short by the smell of blood on her. My amusement vanishes as I step back to search for the source, finding scars on her arm instead.

I shift her bundle to one hand so I can grab her wrist with the other to examine the old wounds more closely. “Who hurt you?”

“You bastard!” an unfamiliar voice bellows from behind the basement door. I let the girl push me away as she races for the door to block me from whoever’s footsteps are thundering closer.
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