Chapter 7 Soft hands, Sharp walls

I stood frozen in the middle of the room, eyes glued to the door I'd just heard click shut. Locked.

I curled my fingers into tight fists at my sides and bit down hard on the scream that clawed up my throat. I couldn't afford to panic. Couldn't afford to cry, no matter how much my chest burned with frustration.

This wasn't a fairytale kidnapping where the villain could be charmed or outwitted with clever banter. Damian Thorne wasn't some swoony antihero with a soft spot. He was a predator in a tailored suit. A man used to getting what he wanted, and apparently, that now included me.

I paced to the window again and leaned against the frame, looking out into the twilight. The last of the sun had dipped beneath the tree line, casting the estate into deep blues and purples. Shadows stretched long across the grass. I saw the faint glint of movement at the far edge of the property-someone patrolling, maybe.

I exhaled slowly, head tipping back against the window frame. It was so suffocating. Not the room...God no, the room was large and luxurious, with a four-poster bed, soft golden lighting, and a plush armchair near a carved bookshelf. It was the not knowing that pressed in from all sides. The uncertainty, the way my life had been pulled out from under me like a rug and I was just... adrift.

A soft knock startled me, causing me to straighten. Then the door creaked open, and in stepped a woman carrying a silver tray.

"Good evening, Miss Carter," she said with a soft, neutral tone. "How are you holding up?''

I didn't move from my spot by the window as I pinned her with a glare. A small smile appeared on her lips as she stared at me.

Maris shut the door gently with her foot and walked over to the small table near the bookshelf, setting down the tray with careful hands. The scent of food filled the air... warm bread, something buttery, a hint of herbs. My stomach growled, traitorously.

"I brought chicken stew, rosemary bread, and water with lemon," she said, arranging everything neatly. "I wasn't sure what you liked."

I swallowed hard. "I'm not hungry."

Her eyes flicked to me, calm and unreadable. "Of course, you are. Trust me, you'll need your strength."

"For what? More kidnapping? More lectures about fate and some crazy bond I never agreed to?"

There was a momentary pause, before Maris stepped back from the tray and folded her hands in front of her. "No one expects you to understand everything right away."

"That's funny. Because so far, everyone's been pretty eager to shove the whole 'mate' thing down my throat."

"Because it's real," she said simply.

I turned away from her, biting the inside of my cheek. The anger was easier than the fear. Easier than the longing I didn't understand whenever Damian looked at me.

I didn't want to believe any of it. It couldn't be true. None of it even made sense. Still, I wouldn't let them break me.

"I won't be here long," I muttered. "I'll find a way out."

Maris didn't flinch. "Maybe. But not tonight."

I glanced over my shoulder at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She moved to the door, hand resting on the knob.he added, "I'll be just down the hall if you need anything. You'll find clothes in the wardrobe if you want to change. Clean towels in the washroom."

I didn't thank her, and she didn't seem to expect me to. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, but I didn't hear the lock this time.

Small mercies.

I walked over to the tray of food, not really intending to eat, but... the smell. God, the smell. I sat, picked up the spoon, and slowly brought a bite of stew to my lips.

It was warm. Savory. Exactly the kind of comfort food I didn't want to enjoy. I hated that it made me feel slightly more human. Slightly less... imprisoned.

I ate in silence, my thoughts running wild.

Was anyone looking for me? Had someone called the police? Would anyone even care enough to report me missing? My chest tightened at that.

I wasn't exactly close to anyone. No siblings. No parents who'd check in. Just a couple of coworkers who probably assumed I'd just stormed off after being fired.

I was completely alone. Well, I have Layla, my best friend. I wonder how she's doing. What they did to her after I was taken from her home. Is she looking for me? She better be doing that.

I finished the bread and leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes.

A knock sounded at the door. It was soft and gentle, like it didn't want to startle me.

I groaned inwardly, ready to attack whoever it was that would walk through that door.

I opened my eyes just as the door creaked open, and Maris stepped in, holding a folded shawl in her arms and that ever-present calmness in her expression. She looked like she belonged in some woodland fairytale. Too delicate and pretty for the world I'd just discovered I was trapped in.

"I see you decided to eat, Evelyn," she said, her eyes darting to the empty plates at the foot of the bed. "Anyways, I want to show you around the estate. If you're up for it."

I didn't move at first. I wasn't sure if this was another trick, or if I could trust the one person who had been remotely kind to me since I'd gotten here.

But then again, staying locked in this room wasn't an option.

I nodded slowly and followed her out into the hallway, trying to keep my nerves from showing. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, I glanced back at the door... Half-expecting it to slam shut again.

It didn't. Progress, I supposed.

The corridor was wide and dimly lit by sconces shaped like wolf heads, flickering with golden light. Everything in this place was strangely elegant. Old money elegance. With rich woods, marble floors, and hallways that whispered secrets if you listened too closely.

Maris walked with measured grace, her steps silent as if she'd floated more than walked. "This estate has been in the Thorne family for generations," she said. "Hidden from humans, protected by wards that only our kind can sense. You're the first outsider in over two decades to step inside."

"Lucky me," I muttered dryly.

She glanced at me with a sympathetic smile but didn't call me out for the sarcasm.

We passed through a set of tall arched doors and entered a massive foyer. The ceiling soared above us, with a glass chandelier shaped like icicles suspended from thick wooden beams. Below us, black and white tiles formed the shape of a crest I didn't recognize.

"Everything here... it looks like it belongs in a Gothic catalog," I murmured.

Maris chuckled. "That's Alpha Damian's aesthetic. Old and brooding."

"Fitting," I said before I could stop myself.

She didn't disagree.

She led me down a series of connecting hallways-each one wider, grander, or stranger than the last. We passed a large library filled with books that smelled like dust and history, a conservatory with glass walls and a thriving indoor garden, and a training room that looked like it had seen more violence than I cared to imagine.

"Do all of you train to fight?" I asked as we passed the padded floor and polished weapon racks.

"Most of us do," she said. "It's not just for sport. It's survival. We're not the only pack. And not all of them believe in peace."

Her words lingered with an unspoken warning.

Eventually, we came to a quieter wing-lined with guest rooms and smaller private spaces. I noticed how the décor here was warmer, more personal. Maris paused at a small set of double doors and opened them.

"This is the solarium. If you ever need space to breathe, this is a good place."

Inside was a room bathed in moonlight. Glass walls and ceilings opened the space to the night sky, and the scent of jasmine floated through the air. A cushioned bench ran along the far wall, and small lanterns glowed in the corners.

It felt... peaceful.

Like a slice of a dream in the middle of a nightmare.

I stepped inside slowly, letting the stillness wash over me. For the first time in days, I took a deep breath that didn't hurt.

"Thank you," I said, surprising even myself.

Maris nodded once. "You may not believe it now, but you're not a prisoner, Evelyn. You're something far more important."

I turned to her, arms folded tightly. "Damian said something similar. But he still locked me in."

"Because you'd run." She met my eyes. "And it's not safe for you out there. Not now. Not while they know."

"They?"

Her smile vanished.

"Not everyone is happy that a human is his mate. Especially not those who think the bond should only exist between shifters. Damian's enemies are... watching."

"Well, that's your problem not mine. Once I find a way out of this place, I'm leaving without looking back."

She sighed, slightly shaking her head. 'There's no place on this planet where you could run to and not be found. And when you're found, you'll be dragged back here, and trust me, darling, the leniency you've been shown so far will be gone. You belong here.'' With that, she turned and walked off, leaving me alone, unsure whether to follow her, glare at her, or throw something at her head.