Azriel's lips curled with annoyance, his eyes glowering at me. To stall for a moment to give me an answer, he squeezed my broken arm. I hissed through my teeth and he grinned, rather manically, before making me move. My feet stumbled as he forced me back to my bed and I frowned at the sight of the blood that coated the sheets. There had been that much of it pooling from my neck, that there were still puddles on the duvet.

"Stop stalling." I huffed as he pushed me onto the mattress.

"I'm not stalling. You look like you need to sit down." He growled.

I snorted a laugh, cradling my arm when he released it. "You broke my arm, not my leg."

"I can break it again if you wish." He grinned, flashing two pointy teeth. "Then you can't run."

I suppressed a shudder, my spine tight with tension. "Whatever. Now answer my question."

He grumbled, shifting his weight. I watched, amused, as he awkwardly avoided my gaze to stall. Did he not know the answer? Or did he not want to share?

What was he thinking?

I cocked my head, watching, waiting, ignoring the burn of my arm...

"The two males we saw are from the same pack."

"So, they're both wolves." I hummed. "I thought so."

He narrowed his eyes. "Do you enjoy interrupting?"

"Well, you are taking so long to answer." I tutted.

He grumbled, and I snickered in return. I noticed he was avoiding my gaze, and I knew the information he was giving me was begrudgingly.

"They are from Wolfram."

I had a hard time hiding the grin on my face and turned to look at the wall, too.

Them being from Wolfram meant they knew who my father was. Being within the same pack my father now lived, had to have some links. Alpha Augustus has a lot of explaining to do. What kind of pack was he running? Why did he have wolves on special missions?

This also meant that I must know who those males were, and the ache in my gut told me I definitely did. And by the look in the second's eye, he knew who I was.

"Why did you want to know such a random question?" Azriel wondered.

I turned to him, concealing my surprise at him asking me something. "What do you mean?"

"We were talking about something else. Why did you want to know what pack they are from?"

I pursed my lips, thinking around my words. "I was curious because I knew they were wolves when we saw them in the woods."

"How did you?" He turned to me. "You are human. You cannot smell."

I smirked. "Am I?"

He grumbled, huffing in dismissal. "You know what I mean."

Azriel seemed to be sober again, his back relaxed and words less harsh. I still didn't trust him, although I felt more at ease when he was like this.

"I saw him flare his nostrils." I rolled my eyes. "That's a wolf thing."

He nodded, pursing his lips. "I have a question to ask of you."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Do I get to bite you, too?" I glared.

His lips curled into a smirk, and he chuckled. "You answer, and I will set your bone. But that's it. I will not heal it completely as a price for your... insolence."

I sucked in a low breath, wanting nothing more than to snap in his face about insolence. I hadn't actually done anything, just wanted to look at the lake, and getting caught was my fault?

But if I didn't answer, he would literally leave me hanging. These bargains were getting barbaric, and I knew I was going to be stepping on dangerous ground.

"Do I have to answer?"

I knew it was a silly question. If I refused to answer, he would assume I was hiding something. Azriel was a ticking time bomb, able to go off at any second.

"Okay..." I exhaled, preparing myself.

"What is your wolf like?"

I blinked, completely unexpecting that question. "What?"

He grimaced. "You heard me. I know you did."

I sighed, dropping my gaze. "I don't have a wolf."

He grunted. "Your father is a wolf."

"I don't know who my mother was."

Azriel laughed. "She is a human, silly girl."

"She is?"

"Was." He waved his hand. "She was a human."

I pursed my lips, not believing him now. "How do you know?"

"You were born in my father's pack, Ailia Thorne. You cannot be born without a mother."

I frowned. "You were not in the pack. You left."

"I came back."

I snorted. "You did?"

He growled at me. "I did. And I had to watch my stupid brother get treated like a god whilst they forced me to the side-lines."

I winced at his voice. He was so full of hatred because of his father's mistreatment.

"Azriel... Asra didn't want it."

He laughed mockingly. "Yeah, right. Of course he did. Only a stupid person would not want to be an alpha."

"Your father was horrible to him." I shook my head. "He dragged him into the ground just to force him up again."

"A bit like what he is doing to his pack now, hmm?" He snorted. "If Asra didn't want it so much, he would have stopped him."

"It's not as easy as that." I snapped. "When you are forced to do something because you fear the repercussions, you do it!"

"Bullshit, you fight your way out!" He snapped.

"You're saying that about a child?" I shrieked, teetering on the edge of too close to home. "Somebody so young, so naïve, should never be forced to endure such horrid torture day-by-day!"

"So, what, little baby Asra didn't want to fight?" He taunted.

"No, he didn't want to be beaten into submission by the person supposed to love him." I grumbled. "Forced to be somebody he wasn't without knowing what he was getting into."

"You sound like you are speaking from experience, Princess."

"So, what if I am!" I huffed. "It still applies."

Azriel sighed. "Whatever, Princess. Just give me your arm."

"Is that it?" I snapped. "You just brush it off?"

"Yep." He tutted. "Arm."

I gritted my teeth, cradling my arm to my chest. I wanted it healed, but I didn't want to make him feel superior. Letting him heal me would only make him realise how much I needed him. Azriel was complicated, more so than his brother, but this, Iwas certain of.

"Arm. Now. Before I change my mind." He seethed.

"What if I don't want it fixed?" I grunted.

"Then you are both stupid and stubborn." Azriel bared his teeth.

I was stubborn. I knew that. But stubborn sometimes kept me safe and-

A sharp cracking had my thoughts disappearing as a sharp pain shot up my elbow. My wrist tingled with feeling, and tears pooled in my eyes. I yanked my arm out of his grip, cradling it to my chest as I breathed through the pain.

"What the fuck?" I shouted.

"You are welcome."

"I said I didn't-

"Shut up." He growled. "Now it will heal the correct way."

"You broke it in the first place!"

"So, remember who has the power here!" He snarled, rising from the bed. "Now come and get some fucking food before I drag you there."

"You cannot control me!" I snapped.

"I am the higher power here. What I say, goes!"

I shook my head in disbelief. "Take me home!"

"I will not! Now, are you coming for food or are you going to starve?"

"I would rather starve!" I snapped. "Let me go home!"

"You want to starve?" He seethed, marching towards the door. "Fine!"

He opened and shut the door so fast, I barely blinked before he was locking it. My chest was heaving with adrenaline, and I shouted a few choice curse words his way. Rising from the bed, I paced the room to soothe my anger. Only when the burning of my anger dissipated did I realise the massive fuck up I just created.

Running toward the door, I tried to yank it open. He had truly locked it. Was I actually supposed to starve? I wasn't serious! I just wanted to go home!

He nearly killed me! I deserved to shout at him!

Stupid vampire.

"Azriel! Wait!" I banged on the door.

My head fell against the wood of the door with defeat, a low grumble leaving my lips. Just when I thought I was getting out of here, he locked me in here again. My arm was heavy by my side, still tingling from Azriel working his charm.

I sighed, turning so my back was against the door and slumping against it. Sliding down toward the floor, I let my head fall into my lap. Looks like it was me and these four walls again.

***

Three days.

Three. Stinking. Days!

Azriel had stayed true to his word, and truly left me to starve with a half-healed arm. A part of me was happy he was gone, and that I was away from his madness. Another part kind of wished he came and bit me so I could have some fucking conversation.

I think the past few weeks; I have spent more time locked in a room without food than I cared to admit.

I showered three times a day just to pass the time. Drank from the tap and searched for any secret food hiding spots. Guess what? There wasn't any. Do hybrids even eat human food? Is it 'human' food? Or just 'food'? Wolves eat human food, so is it therefore not 'human' food?

Why were taps called taps? You turn them, not tap them.

Why were windows called windows when you don't wind them? Why aren't they pronounced wined-ohs?

Mattress. That was a good one. A matt to rest on. Simple.

Bed. No explanation other than the word looked like its meaning.

Toilet. I couldn't even come up with an idea for that one. Maybe it was to do with the whole eau de toilette perfumes I found. Does toilette mean toilet? Does toilet therefore mean clean and not something you poop inside?

I can't remember the last time I pooped.

I think it had to be three weeks ago.

That wasn't good, was it?

Maybe I pooped in my sleep, and somebody cleaned it up.

How embarrassing.

At least the blood that stained the sheets was something to clean. I had scrubbed them myself in the shower, and dried them by hanging them from the curtain rail. It took some time with no air flow in here, and they smelt so strongly of shampoo. But they were as clean as they could be.

Groaning, I banged my head against the foot of the bed for the millionth time today. My stomach had long since stopped growling, unable to picture what food even tasted like as my head swam with dizziness. Even the water tasted disgusting, and chewing the corner of the towels seemed rather appeasing right now. The last form of substance was the blood Azriel gave me after breaking my leg.

But, fucking hell, I was losing my goddamn mind!

I miss solid food. All the weight I had strived to gain was fastly slipping away as my body fought to eat itself. I was used to the starvation. Food control was a big fun game for Darius, but I was sick of it.

Why couldn't I just break down the door?

Because he drained me of my blood and broke my arm.

Silly me.

Nobody had come to the door since Azriel locked me in here the other morning. I had shut up the following evening, realising shouting would not get me anywhere, and now the sun was setting two days later. First, he broke my leg. Then he forced me to sleep, and when I woke we went on a trip to my hometown. Just for him to throw me in here in a tantrum, finally to come get me, nearly kill me, break my arm and lock me in here again!

It was always the same! Mediocre crap!

Who was he even feeding from? Why was it irritating me he could drink from somebody else? What kind of venom did this fucking hybrid have?

I can't stay here any longer. I need to learn how to pick a magic thumb print lock. Was that possible? Do you pick digital locks?

I groaned. I need to get out of here.

If not for my mind, but for my stomach, who was slowly eating itself. Poor stomach needed something nice and warm to get through another night.

****

not long ailia baby
Soon you'll be home