Where am I?
That question was repeating over and over again in my head as I let out a silent plea of help. The whole place was quiet, not a sound made other than the harsh breaths I was releasing in panic. My wolf's presence in my mind was awfully quiet and that terrified me the most... knowing I was truly alone.
I felt weak; physically and emotionally, and I didn't have the strength to conjure up any of my elements of nature. I felt useless in my current position, desperately wanting someone to save me.
"Jason," I tried to scream, but it only came as a soft whisper. I was truly terrified, not knowing what was happening around me.
"Is Jason your boyfriend, little girl?" a voice behind me sneered. I jumped in fright, when I recognized that the cruel voice belonged to the man with the scar. Like a light switch, memories started making its way into my mind. With each thought, I became more afraid and I tried to scramble away from the voice, even though I knew it was useless.
Scar-man. The needle. My brothers. Jason. Kidnapped.
"No, no, no!" I cried hysterically, as tears were pouring down my face. I can't be kidnapped. Oh goddess, please let it be a dream!
"Shut up," the voice ordered, but I was barely paying attention to him.
"Did you kill my brothers?!" I screamed in rage, remembering how my brothers were left wounded on the ground, barely able to move.
I felt footsteps getting near me and before I felt what was happening, a soft swish was heard, before a loud crack echoed through the room. I felt a burning sting on my cheek and I knew I was slapped.
I let out a strangled cry, not only out of pain, but shock as well. I was never slapped before in my life.
"Manners, little girl. No reason to shout," he said calmly, with mild amusement . The way he ignored my questions enraged me, but I couldn't find myself to say anything rude to him. I was an emotional mess.
"Did you kill my brothers? Are they dead?" I cried weakly, with tears staining my blindfold and cheeks. My voice was scratchy and strained, but I knew he heard me perfectly.
The room went quiet after; the only sounds were the dry sobs that were wrecking through my body. When he still didn't respond to my question, I felt became desperate.
"Please. Answer me!" I screamed out, my tone angry and pleading at the same time. I sounded pathetic to my own ears.
Again I heard movement, and like before, the crack of skin contacting skin, echoed throughout the walls. I wailed out in pain, as he had now struck my same cheek twice.
The room became painfully silent after that, and each breath he let out, made me want to jump in fear. I knew he was watching me, probably smirking at the fear that was rolling off me in waves. Finally after what seemed like hours, but probably only minutes, he broke the unbearable silence.
"Your brothers are alive," he started to say, which I let out of a breath of relief. He laughed at that and continued, "For now, anyways."
"What do you mean by that?" I probed him again, feeling angry by the thought of my brothers getting hurt. I knew he wouldn't answer me, so I asked him another question that I was dying to know.
"Who are you?" I begged. "Why did you hurt my family? What do you want from me?" Each word came out faster than the next, before I was a blubbering mess again.
I wasn't expecting to get anything away from him, so I was shocked to say the least, when he ripped off the blindfold that was covering my eyes. Dull light shone in the room, and I tried to adjust my eyes to it. It looked like I was in a basement of some sorts. Everything in the room looked so dark and unwelcoming, with no windows in sight.
I knew he was watching me, so slowly but fearfully, I let my eyes wander up to his face.
My eyes made contact with his hollow gray ones, and his long scar that was running down his cheek. His dark blonde hair was slicked down, and he looked intimidating with the dark suit he was wearing.
I was on the floor on my knees tied up like a rag doll, while he was looking down at me. I felt small and frail, when I realized how much bigger and older he was. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, while I was only ten; not even half his age.
"You talk big for your age and you don't know when to keep your mouth shut," he commented, ignoring the question I asked. He crouched down, and came down to my eye level. "That might be a problem for you because I hate brats who can't keep their mouth shut." I flinched at the cold words and tried to stop the sob that wanted to be released.
"What do you want from me?" I asked again, my voice now quieting down.
I thought after the question I asked, he would slap me again but instead I got a shocking response. He raised an eyebrow and started laughing at me. A cruel loud laugh that sent shivers through my shoulder blades. That was when I was hit with his unfamiliar, sweet scent. Like honey.
A scent that did not smell human, nor werewolf, nor vampire. That was when I realized that I had been asking him the wrong questions.
"What are you?" I asked in fright, finally realizing how much trouble I was in. I first thought he was a hunter, but now I know for sure, that's not the case. He's something far much stronger and scarier.
"A surprise," he said and grabbed a locket of my hair. He started twirling it around with his finger, while I was feeling nauseous. I tried to lean back, but that only made him tighten his grip on my hair. I whimpered in fear as he stared me down with his eyes. It made me want to cower at his feet.
"You're very beautiful for such a young girl. I think my son would be smitten with you once he sees you," he stated and dropped my hair before gripping my chin in a tight hold. I felt a tear slide down my face. He smirked before dropping my chin.
"I love it when they cry," he mused to himself before standing back up. I looked down on the ground, trying to hide my traitorous tears.
"Father," a voice stated as the sound of footsteps descended down the stairs. I looked around, only now noticing a staircase at the far corner of the darkroom. What terrified me more however was what the new person called the man in front of me. The voice was beautiful but deadly, and my fear doubled immensely.
"Perfect timing... there's my son now," the scar-man said in delight, before clapping his hands together. The sound made me cringe even more as I stared hard on the cold tiled-floor.
The boy made his way down the steps, and before I knew it, I was looking down at another pair of shiny black shoes. I tried to scoot back, but the ropes around me painfully reminded me, I couldn't. If only my silver wolf was in my presence right now. She was strong and calm, while I was anything but.
"Who's this?" the boy demanded, his voice demanding, making me clench my eyes shut in fear. I could barely breathe at this point.
"Her name is Ariel Weston, Beta's daughter of the Silver Fang Pack," the scar-man informed his son in a neutral voice. The boy snorted in annoyance.
"I don't care if she's the Beta's daughter or even the Omega's. Why the hell is she here?" the boy asked in rage to his father. Right now, I didn't know who scared me more; the father or son.
"She's here because-" the man started, but his son interrupted him.
"We need the future Alphas of the pack for the X Project, Father. Not a weak barbie doll who doesn't even have the decency to keep her head up," the boy spat in anger.
I inhaled sharply, taking in as much information as I can.
"I know Lucius, but this girl-," the scar-man was stopped again by his son, Lucius.
"We need power, Father! What were you thinking wasting your time with her?" Lucius shouted to him. I thought Scar-man would shout back at him, but instead he calmly replied to his insane son.
"Lucius, I got information from someone in her pack that this girl is worth more than a Barbie Doll," the man laughed at the end, making me grit my teeth. They're lying. My pack would never betray my secret.
"What do you mean?" Lucius asked curiously, without any hate this time. That terrified me even more. I don't want them to be interested in me. I just wanted to go home.
"She's a silver wolf," he stated, to which made me gasp loudly. How did he know that?
"A silver wolf?" Lucius repeated slowly, sounding interested all of a sudden. "Are you sure?"
My stomach churned in fright, but I still refused to look at him. He might be younger than his dad, but for some reason, his presence felt much stronger and petrifying than him.
"Positive," His father replied. "We're lucky I found her, Lucius. If she grew up with her pack, she may well be stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any other creature in the world. This little kitty-cat could've ruined all our plans."
"Then it's a good thing you found her, Father," Lucius stated, taking a step closer to me. "You once told me that a silver wolf is an anomaly, one that hasn't been seen in many years.
"I did," his father said, letting his son close the distance between us. "I also said that if used correctly, having a silver wolf in your possession gives you an advantage like no other."
My hands were clenched in a fist, when I realized that Lucius' scent was a little different from his father's. He had his father's sweet scent, but it was also mixed with the forest scent of a wolf. What does this mean?
Nothing made sense. Their scent, their knowledge of silver wolves, and the X project. How does it all connect?
The boy knelt down in front of me and his face was now only inches away from me. I was burning holes on to the ground while he was burning holes on to me. I was glad that my long blonde hair was blocking my terrified face. I was a mess right now, and the ropes were digging into my skin painfully.
"She's ours now," Lucius murmured to his father, amusement clear in his voice.
"I know, son. Now, watch over her for a bit. I have some more packages to collect," the scar-man said, patting my head again like I was a dog.
They made me sick.
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