It was a dreamy island, with a beautiful garden filled with sweet-scented flowers.

The sound of laughter drifted softly through the field, far off in the distance.

It seemed like I was the only piece of darkness staining this place.

I walked deeper into the field. A place free from turmoil or pain. A place that made you forget your purpose, made you weak with peace. It gave you serenity on a platter of gold, served with side dishes of joy.

I don’t think death exists here.

I knew this place wasn’t meant for me. I’m too diabolical for such serenity. But my heart, my foolish heart, chose this even though my head was at war.

I bent down, plucked a flower from its root, and inhaled its scent deeply.

I don’t belong here… but I want this.

This isn’t the me I know. I was built for war, for bloodshed, not for peace and stillness. The sound of wailing used to be my calming pills. But here… I felt different.

Like something new was trying to be born inside me.

This wasn’t a place far from Bloodmoon, a place I felt like I could smile genuinely.

I raised the flower again, but the scent had changed. It reeked now… foul, rotten, like the stench of a decaying animal.

My stomach twisted as I almost threw up.

I looked ahead, and the field was gone. The flowers, the laughter, the light, all gone. Burnt to ashes.

Thick, black smoke rose into the air, swallowing the sky.

The laughter I once heard turned into screams, piercing cries of agony that tore through the silence.

The serenity was gone. And so was the beauty.

I stood frozen, staring as the smoke curled and thickened, twisting itself into a dark shadow.

It sensed me.

Before I could react, it rushed forward and slammed into me, forcing its way into my mouth, nostrils, and ears.

I gasped, choking hard, clawing at my throat. It wouldn’t stop. It was determined to smother the life out of me, like I was being possessed by it.

Then a voice broke through the darkness, deep, cold, and cruel.

“Everything you touch will die, Thorne. You are not meant for peace.”

The laughter that followed was wild and hysterical, echoing through my head until my vision blurred. It was terror.

I could taste blood. Feel my lungs collapsing. My life flickered like a dying flame.

Then, someone grabbed me.

“Thorne!”

The voice was desperate, filled with panic. A touch so real it burned through the haze.

I gasped and jolted upright, my lungs dragging in air as I stared into the dim walls of my cell.

My heart hammered violently in my chest.

I touched my face, my arms, checking for blood. Nothing, it was dry.

Was I dreaming?

It felt too real to be a dream. I could still feel her touch.

“What was that,” my head hammered.

The emptiness of the cell walls gave me a strange sense of comfort. I wasn’t dead. Not yet.

It wasn’t the time to think about stupid dreams.

Before I’d blacked out, I’d had an encounter. A spark of something. And now I knew who was behind it.

That little witch.

I’d find her and tear the truth from her gut. She wouldn’t get away with manipulating me.

I’m Thorne.

I pushed myself to my feet and paced slowly around the cell.

I was fine.

Completely fine.

Almost too fine, that it felt scary.

I could still remember the pain, the feeling of my bones crushing, my skin splitting, my blood drying up. But now… I felt good. Almost too good, stronger, nimble.

Reborn even.

I jumped lightly, testing the strength in my legs, but something yanked me back down. My face hit the ground with a dull thud.

Chains.

Only my ankles were bound now. My wrists were free, and the chain’s length had been extended.

What was Killian planning?

The sound of my fall must have alerted the guards. Within moments, four of them rushed in, weapons half drawn.

When their eyes met mine, they froze.

“Inform Lord Killian that Sire Thorne is awake,” one of them muttered shakily.

The others bowed quickly before retreating.

Their reaction wasn’t respect. It was fear.

The kind that lives deep in the bones.

Fear of my ruthlessness. Fear of what I could do if they stepped wrong.

It was the only way I kept control, the only way to get them to see me as a leader, soldiers respect and fight only for who they fear.

I waited for Killian to appear. To do what he always did, play the Alpha. But he didn’t come.

Maybe throwing me in here didn’t entertain him anymore.

Still, I would make sure he came.

The next guards who brought food didn’t leave untouched. I tore into them, not to kill, but to make a point.

When that didn’t draw Killian out, I went berserk.

Growling, thrashing, destroying everything within reach.

Until finally….

The iron door slammed open.

Killian stormed in, rage burning in his eyes like wildfire.

“You fool! What do you think you’re doing?!”

I looked up, smiling faintly.

Just what I wanted. That anger, that loss of control.

“I simply told your little pups not to bring me anything,” I said casually, my lips curling. “They didn’t listen.”

He glared at me with disgust. I could see the urge to strangle me right there and then, but he didn’t.

“Ahh, you’re insane,” he snapped. “You’ll rot here without food or water.”

He turned on his heel and stomped off.

I couldn’t help it..I laughed softly.

He couldn’t kill me. Couldn’t control me. Couldn’t even ignore me.

He’d lost, and he knew it.

I leaned back against the cold wall, my smirk widening.

I wanted to be free from him and the Alpha, but those two stubborn fools wouldn’t let me go.

He can’t become Alpha without me, and he knows it.

The silence that followed was comforting. No buzzing insects, no sound. Just the hum of my own breath.

Then… it changed.

A scent, familiar and delicate.

I lifted my head.

And there she was.

The little witch.

She stood at the doorway, her eyes wide, uncertain.

She had no idea she’d just walked into her tomb.

My heart thrummed with a strange mix of excitement and hunger.

Opportunity had come to me, dressed in innocence.

I smiled slowly, sinking down onto the ground, watching her like a predator studying its prey.

She hesitated, then stepped inside, brave little thing.

Her fear rippled through the air, faint but unmistakable.

I leaned back against the wall, hiding my excitement beneath a calm, calculating grin.

“Welcome little lamb,” I murmured under my breath. “Let’s see how well you survive the wolf’s den”

Her lips parted slightly, confusion flashing in her eyes, but she said nothing.

I smiled wider.

The air between us thickened, every second stretching like a thread ready to snap.

She didn’t realize it yet, but she’d just walked into a cage.