I walk around the room, searching for anything to help me pick the lock on my cell door. It's made of silver, so trying to break it down is out of the option. My actions suddenly halt, hearing the cell door squeak open. I whip my head toward the door, praying in my heart my mate isn't back to make good on his threat. I exhale when I get a different scent than his as the lights come on in the room. Eric and a woman with a herby scent tread into the room. The woman must be a water witch. Most of them are healers and deal with a lot of herbs. Witches are grouped by elements of nature, fire, water, earth, and air. They cast spells based on which element they are gifted with.

"Hi, Amelia," Eric greets. I remain silent, my gaze fixed on him and the water witch at his side, trying to decipher why they are here. My mate mentioned a woman would make me regret not disclosing where my family might be hiding. Is this water witch the woman he was talking about? As I said, most of them are healers, but they are also one of the deadliest witches out there.

Eric's voice carries a touch of concern as he approaches me, navigating the edges of the room. I instinctively step back, maintaining a wary distance. My attention might have been mainly on my mate in the ballroom earlier, but I saw him too, streaked with blood on his body from head to toe and Alphas' decapitated heads around him. We might have had an intense moment earlier that night, but it doesn't change the fact that he is the enemy.

"How are you feeling?" he inquires, his concern seemingly genuine. I raise an eyebrow, skeptical of his sudden care. He didn't hesitate to take lives earlier, so why express concern for mine?

"I understand why you would be wary of me, but I don't wish to harm you, Amelia," he asserts, attempting to reassure me. I meet his gaze, skeptical about his gentle behavior toward me. He didn't have a problem killing my people, so why should he care about me?

"Why are you here then?" I question, my tone holding a hint of suspicion.

He sighs before responding, "I am here to ensure you are prepared for what's coming."

"What's coming?" I press, shifting my gaze between Eric and the water witch by his side.

"You will find out very soon. Have a look at her, Hillary," Eric instructs the water witch. She approaches me, but I instinctively move away, keeping a safe distance on the other side of the wall.

"Don't come close to me," I warn, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. I don't know what's going on, but I don't want any witch around me right now. She could be trying to kill me for all I know.

"Amelia, she's only trying to check on you. She doesn't wish to harm you," Eric reassures, closing the distance between us. Despite his assurances, I continue retreating from them.

"Why?" I question, baffled by their sudden interest in my well-being. It seems counterintuitive for those responsible for my injuries to now express concern about my health.

"We don't want you to die when she comes," Eric states, mentioning a 'she' as Nicholas did.

"When who comes?" I demand, my steps grinding to a halt.

"You will find out soon," Eric says, abruptly seizing my hand. I tug my hand out of his, attempting to pull away, but his grip is unyielding.

I can't fathom why, but his words are challenging to believe. My mate isn't one to treat my wounds out of kindness, and he certainly won't use this approach to get information from me. Something feels off, and I'm left puzzled about what might be happening.

"I could sedate her with magic," the water witch suggests, positioned a few feet away.

"No! Stay the hell away from me!" I scream, desperation mounting. I struggle against Eric's grasp, determined to resist whatever they have planned. However, my efforts prove futile as he shoves me against the wall, securing me in place. The water witch conjures liquid from a bottle, muttering incantations for a spell. In moments, she douses my face with the enchanted water, and darkness envelops me once more.

***

Opening my eyes with a jolt, I take in the dimly lit room, grappling to understand my surroundings. A pang of disappointment settles in as I realize I'm still in the same cold and dimly lit space. For a second, I wished everything was a very elaborate bad dream that I could finally wake up from. As I gather my bearings, I sense something on my ribs and back. Lifting my dress, I discover bandages there. It strikes me - they genuinely treated my wounds. The question lingers: Why?

"Welcome back," Eric's voice reaches me from a few feet away. Hastily getting to my feet, I regret the decision as my body wobbles, nearly causing me to fall. Eric, with his vampire speed, swiftly catches me, preventing a mishap.

"You still have some of the silver in your system. You shouldn't try to move around too much."

I shove at his chest to create some distance as a headache starts to form. Closing my eyes, I massage my temples to alleviate the pain. The thought crosses my mind: Did they treat my wounds only to gift me a nasty headache in return?

"Sorry about that; it's to make sure everything goes well," he apologizes, remaining uncomfortably close.

"I don't know what games you are playing, but it won't work. I will never tell you where my family is," I assert, brushing off the throbbing in my head.

"Games? We haven't even done anything yet," confusion evident in his voice.

I open my eyes, locking gazes with him. "Then how do you explain what's going on now?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asks, chuckling. My brows knit together.

"You know what I'm talking about," I grit out, my head pounding with every passing second. I search the room for the witch who treated me. I need to have a word with her. Who the hell treats someone's wounds and gives them a bad headache in return?

"No, I don't."

"You do,"

"He doesn't, and if you would just fucking calm down, the headache will stop," someone says from outside the cell. A whiff of rainforest hits my nose, and my blood runs cold. He's here.

With every step he takes, my heart pounds. I retreat from Eric further into the room as his footsteps draw closer and closer until he's in front of me. I gasp, finding myself face to face with the most exquisite emerald eyes I had ever seen but also the most terrifying. He used his vampire speed to close the distance between us in a matter of milliseconds.

"Be calm," he commands, in that thick British accent that makes any word that rolls out of his mouth the sexiest thing a man could ever say. I breathe in his scent, and a wave of warmth surges through my bones, and my headache starts to subside instantly. I hate that his scent can do that to me.

"Why is my head hurting after getting treated?" I ask, tilting my head back as I speak to him. He's so tall.

"Side effects of the drug," he replies, moving away from me and approaching the door.

"What drug?"

"None of your concern."

"What do you plan to do with me?" I inquire.

"You are about to find out," he replies and walks out, leaving me more confused than I was minutes ago.

I turn to Eric, about to ask him to explain when the clicking of someone's heels outside my cell halts me. A beautiful redhead in her late forties or early fifties with brown eyes steps into the room. She sets her sights on me, and they light up, staring at me. I look at her, wondering why she's so happy to see me even though I have no clue who she is.

"Your Highness," Eric says, bowing his head. All the color drains from my face as my eyes widen in terror—a redhead Queen. There is only one person she could be.

"Hello, princess," Ava, the Queen of Witches, says, her voice dripping with a sinister sweetness. Her lips, painted in a bold red hue, stretch into a big grin, revealing pearl-white teeth. Clad in a red pantsuit that matches her lipstick, with black heels adding a touch of elegance, she exudes an air of confidence and power. One look at her and it's evident that red is her favorite color.

She moves toward me, an evil smile playing on her lips. Ava places her long, black-painted fingers on my chin, forcing my head to move from side to side.

"You might have your mother's hair and face, but your eyes," she remarks with a disdainful click of her tongue. "Those are Becky's," she adds, digging her nail into my chin, threatening to draw blood, before abruptly flipping my face to the side.

I pant, my heart pounding, fearing my death was near. There is no one on Earth that Ava hates more than Becky, my late fraternal grandmother. Becky was the one who killed Ava's mate.

Ava turns away from me, directing her attention to Eric.

"Do you mind giving us some privacy before we start?" Ava requests, her voice carrying a chilling tone.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Eric replies. Thank heavens, he is not leaving me alone with this monstrous witch. Despite my mother resurrecting Ava's mate, Leo, I know Ava still holds a deep-seated grudge against Grandma Becky for massacring half her kind while searching for her.

"I promise I only wish to speak to the child and nothing more," Ava insists.

"Nick gave strict instructions not to leave the two of you alone," Eric pushes back.

"I know, dear." She moves closer to Eric, her hand gently resting on his shoulder as she locks eyes with him. "I promise I won't do anything."

Eric's Adam's apple bobs as he attempts to maintain eye contact with Ava.

"I will be outside," Eric says, stepping back, causing her hand to drop from his shoulder. He turns to leave the cell, but not before stealing a fleeting glance at me, his eyes filled with an unmistakable pity.

"Good," She says, turning away from him and fixing her malicious gaze back on me.

"Do you know something, dear?" Ava inquires, circling around me, her footsteps resounding off the walls.

"No," I reply, desperately hoping my voice doesn't betray the fear that consumed me, anticipating whatever cruel intentions she had in store.

"Nick has asked me to force your mind to tell me where your family might be," She whispers behind me, sending a cold shiver down my spine. I whip my head around to face her, but she vanishes when I turn. The lights in the room go off, and I'm plunged into utter darkness. My heart pounds as I catch her scent and feel her breath on me, intensifying the dread within me as I remain unable to see her in the pitch-black room.

"Isn't that forbidden magic?" I ask, spinning around the room as I try to find her. I finally realize why I was treated and what drug might have been given to me. They wanted to ensure I didn't die while she controlled my mind. Forbidden magic! It's so strong it could shatter someone's mind if they are not physically and mentally strong.

"It is, my dear," she says, placing a cold finger on my shoulder, causing me to jump in fright. I try to steady my heartbeat as her long nail remains on my shoulder. The best way to throw off your enemy is to show no fear. I chat in my head but find it hard to do with the situation right now.

"Then don't do it," I plead, even though I know it's futile. My heart leaps out of my chest as a sinister laughter reverberates off the walls. The cold touch of her finger is replaced by haunting darkness and laughter.

"I can see your mother has told you nothing about me. Why don't I introduce myself then?" she says, conjuring a ball of fire that vanishes into my body. A scream tears through me as I burn from within, my blood boiling. Collapsing to the ground, I convulse, tears filling my eyes.

"Nick might not have asked me to use this method, but I believe he would be pleased regardless if I get the same result."

In a desperate plea, I manage, "Please st..." My breath hitches, panting heavily as my fingers struggle to clutch my dress, a futile attempt to absorb the searing pain emanating from within. Before I can utter another word, a pained groan escapes me. The scorching bones in my fingers twist at odd angles, causing me to widen my eyes in horror, whimpering through the pain.

"Tell me where your family is, and I might stop," she demands, callously tearing open the skin on my arm with a blade made from her fire magic. Using that same magic, she turns the blade into a hand and wrenches every burning bone in my body. They snap like twigs, my face contorting in unimaginable pain. A scream erupts from my throat as the intensity of the agony surpasses anything I've ever felt. Blood flows from the cuts, staining the floor and soiling my dress. I'm going to die here tonight.

"Please stop; I don't know," I cry out, tears streaming down my face. Despite the unbearable agony, I refuse to disclose where my family might be hiding. Revealing their location would seal their fate. I can't allow that. My heart aches at the thought of them surviving the initial attack only to meet their demise because of my words. No, I must stay strong. I bite down hard on my bottom lip, attempting to divert my mind from the pain. The taste of metal fills my mouth as I bite with all my might.

"Stop wasting my time and quickly tell me," Ava growls, abruptly lifting me off the ground using magic. I scream, thrashing in the air, praying gravity doesn't take its merciless course.

"I don't know," I reply, looking down, an immediate wave of regret washing over me. My head spins as the ground seems bottomless.

"Suit yourself then," Ava utters indifferently. She drops me to the ground as though I weigh nothing. The impact rattles the earth, my skull almost fracturing, but a pounding headache surges through my head. In that moment, I realize Ava is determined to end my life, and I choose to die for my family. I can't betray them.

Ava repeats the question multiple times, demanding the whereabouts of my family, but I refuse to yield. Eventually, she ceases her inquiries and gazes down at me on the floor, wearing a satisfied smile akin to an artist admiring their masterpiece.

My breath escapes in short pants, tears blending with the sweat streaks on my face, a macabre mixture with my own blood. Every inch of my body throbs with pain—from the inside out. The wounds are infected, bits of concrete particles that broke from my body, hitting the ground. I sob, gazing aimlessly at the ceiling, grappling with the perplexing question of how the hell I was still alive.

"Now, let's put you back together," Ava meticulously places every twisted bone in my body back in its original position and expertly seals the fresh cuts she inflicted. Lying in my own pool of blood, I continue to stare at the ceiling, the echoes of her departing heels reverberating in my ears. Those few minutes felt like an eternity, each bone crack and wound seal inducing unimaginable pain. In those horrifying moments, I found myself wishing for death a hundred times over.

"Amelia," someone says, rushing into the room. I turn my head to the side and see it's Eric. Horror fills his eyes as he takes in the sight of the blood pooling around me.

"What did she do to you?" he asks, his gaze fixed on me. I turn my head away, curling into a ball, bringing my knees to my chest. This is the cruel toll of being mated to a vampire. Quivers rack my body as wails tear out of me. I'm destined to die here, and my mate won't even intervene.

***

I stir awake, groaning in pain as my body aches like it was engulfed in flames. Actually, it was, internally. Surveying my surroundings, I find myself on a bed, my blood-soaked clothes replaced. The last memory etched in my mind is crying in a pool of blood, with Eric attempting to communicate with me.

As I sit up cautiously, mindful of the bandages adorning my body. Ava sealed my wounds, but they were not properly done. Now, they are cleaned and properly bandaged. I strain my ears for any heartbeat besides mine. Marie is still unconscious due to lingering silver in my body, but I still have my werewolf abilities. They are just not as good as they would be if she were awake. I hear no heartbeat other than mine. I listen harder, my focus outside the room, but nothing. I deiced to take the chance to try and escape from here before Ava decides to come back and finish the job. It's suspicious that there's no guard at my door, but I don't think anything worse can happen if I'm caught, so it is worth trying.

Dropping my feet to the bed's edge, I place my hand on the nightstand. Despite my protesting muscles, I muster the strength to stand, only to find my legs betraying me. I collapse to the floor, the nightstand's contents scattering as I struggle for support.

"Amelia!" Eric exclaims, entering the room. I gaze at him from the floor, immobile, my body protesting against the additional pain caused by my attempt to stand. Eric hurriedly picks me up, gently placing me back on the bed.

"Your body has barely healed. You shouldn't try that again," he cautions, tucking me under the covers. I remain silent, studying him, perplexed by his seemingly caring demeanor. What game is he playing? Why the pretense of concern when he likely plans to aid my mate in my demise?

"Why?" I inquire.

"Why what?" he responds.

"Why pretend you care if I'm well taken care of when you plan to help my mate dispose of me sooner or later?" He hesitates, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"I will let his majesty know you're awake," Eric says, ignoring my question and heading towards the door.

"His Majesty?" I interrupt, stopping him before he can open the door.

"Yes, your mate," he replies, turning to face me.

My eyes widen. "You're joking," I laugh drily, staring at him in disbelief.

"Why would I?"

"You're telling me Nickolas Adams II is my mate?"

"Yes."

I burst into louder, more bitter laughter, tears welling in my eyes.

"What's so funny?" Eric inquires.

"What's so funny?" I wipe away, escaping tears, locking my eyes with Eric. "I thought I had a chance of surviving this place until I found a way to escape. Now, I believe that will never happen because if Nickolas Adams II is my fucking mate, you might as well bury me now."