Stefan’s POV
“Is this a trapdoor?”
Instant panic floods my senses as I turn around to locate Gwen by her voice. She has wandered off to the far side of the compound and is standing right in the middle of the rubble of what used to be a barn.
The last time I was in that barn, it was burning. I barely made it out before the roof came crashing down.
I walk over to her and look down at what she is pointing at. A trap door, half-hidden by charred wooden beams. Creepers have also grown over the rubble. It’s a wonder she was able to notice the door.
“Where does it lead to?”
“The dungeons.”
“Dungeons? Can we go inside?” she asks. Then a moment later, her face falls. “Oh, sorry. Is this where…”
I nod. “Yeah, this is where my father imprisoned me.”
Her hand lands on my arm gently. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. We don’t have to look…”
I want to be strong, to tell her that no, we can look. But the very idea of taking those steps to the place below makes me want to puke. Just seeing the door is enough to bring back the horrid memories from back then. I don’t think I can survive going below.
“Yeah, let’s not,” I say, taking her hand and leading her from the rubble. “There isn’t much to see, anyway.”
***
I slip away later that night while the group sits around a bonfire, trading stories. None of us is going back to the mansion tonight. While I’ve kept away for the past three nights, Andreas and Hanna always went back. But now that the two people whose safety I wanted to ensure showed up here, there’s no need to break up the party.
My feet carry me towards the back of the property. To the barn. Since I steered Gwen away from the rubble earlier today, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it.
I keep getting flashes of those days. The first day my father locked me down there. I had been waiting all month for my transition to hit. I was of age and it was expected to happen any time. I was excited–I was finally going to have a chance to show everyone that I wasn’t as useless or powerless as they said.
Puberty had failed to fully transform my body from the scrawny frame that had made me a target of ridicule. I was going to get a second chance with my transition.
For werewolves, the first transition is like a second puberty. Once it happens, your body grows rapidly, spurred by the stronger, now active werewolf genes. My excitement over my soon-to-be physique overwhelmed any anxiety that could have been caused by horror stories of how painful the transition could be.
It happened on a full moon night like it does for many other werewolves. When it started, my father brought me outside the compound. He was accompanied by my half-brother, his beta, and two warriors. I remember the pain–every bit as blinding as the stories told.
But what I remember with even more clarity is the darkness.
The darkness that came after the pain was gone and I could feel the hard ground beneath four paws instead of two feet.
And the confusion, as I turned in circles, trying to locate my father and the others. It didn’t take long for everybody present to realise what was happening.
My wolf was blind.
My father ordered me to shift back immediately. It took a while–first, I was a first-timer, and second, I was panicking, unable to concentrate. When I did, he ordered his Beta to lock me in a cell in the dungeon.
I thought he would come to see me the next day, explain what was happening to me. He didn't show up. I waited for anyone, any news. My mother showed up two days later and told me my blindness was a curse that should be hidden.
A week later, my father showed up and delivered the news that he no longer considered me his son. But no, he wasn’t kicking me out of the pack. He was keeping me in the dungeons, hidden away, so nobody could ever find out he sired a blind werewolf. I was a speck in his impeccable bloodline.
Back then, I never could have imagined that the night of my first transition would be the last time I saw the sky, the trees, and breathed fresh air in five years. But that’s how it ended up like.
Until the night the pack was raided, and one of the servants came to my rescue. Her name was Ann, and she was one of the servants who brought my food to the dungeons. She had appeared, opened my gate, and told me there was fighting and no guard in sight.
There was no time to ask why she was helping me. We made it out of the dungeons and out of the burning barn. She brought me to an opening in the fence away from the fighting and told me I was on my own. Then she left, and I never saw her again.
When I get to the trapdoor, I don’t stop to think. I bend down and grasp the handle. When I pull, it budges with a groan. With a little more effort, I’m able to lift the heavy slab and reveal the staircase leading down below.
I step in, going lower until the trapdoor is back in its place and I let it go. I frown when I realise I can’t see anything. Sure, it’s dark as hell down here, but I’ve always had night vision…
“Fuck,” I mutter as the dots connect.
Did I lose it? Because of the talisman? Will I lose all of those fancy abilities I had because I’m locking him out? All I wanted was for him to stop getting in my head… And to stop hijacking my body… And to stop lusting after my mate…
Fucking hell. I reach for my slacks pocket, glad I brought my phone along. Turning on the flashlight, I make the rest of the way down.
The place is as I remember, only with cobwebs all over the place. I slash my hand through the white webs as I move along. My skin is already prickling from the cold down here, and I can feel a sneeze working up from the poor air quality. But then again, this place has seen neither fresh air nor light in the past five years. I was probably the last person down here.
I wait for the panic to hit, the nerve-crashing fear, the feeling of helplessness. But it doesn’t. I’m totally fine as I walk down the corridor towards what used to be my cell. Have I really grown past this nightmare?
The thought of this place has always been unpleasant, and that’s why I didn’t want to come down here with Gwen earlier. I wasn’t sure how I would react. Looks like there was nothing to be afraid of.
I’m no longer the scared eighteen-year-old I was back then. I have total control of my life. I’m the Alpha–nobody is going to lock me up.
Mere seconds after that reassuring thought crosses my mind, I pick up a sound. I freeze, going on high alert. Something squeaks. Like metal. Then there is a slam.
The door!
I don’t know what’s faster–my heart in my chest, or my feet as I rush down the corridor and to the bottom of the stairs.
I come to a grinding stop when I see the figure coming down the stairs, flashlight in hand.
It’s Mari.
“Did I scare you?” she asks.
I can’t answer. My heart is thundering in my chest, my lungs working overtime with the whole inhale and exhale thing. I stumble backwards, my back coming into contact with a wall. I lean against it, but even that is not enough support as my legs give in beneath me and I slide to the floor.
Mari says something, but I don’t hear her. There’s a rushing sound in my ears, and I squeeze my eyes tight as my vision goes wonky. I think she is touching me, but I’m not sure. At some point, her words get through to me.
She is asking me to breathe. I’m trying, but it feels like there’s something in my chest, constricting me, making it hard to pull any air into my lungs.
I don’t know how long I fight, but it feels like a really long time before my surroundings begin making sense again. Mari is on her knees beside me, my hand in hers. She’s massaging her thumb into my wrist, and for a while, I concentrate on that. I’m finally able to draw in full breaths, and the rush in my ears is gone.
“It’s okay, it’s fine.”
Her voice. Calm, assuring.
“What…what happened?”
“I think you had a panic attack,” she says.
I shake my head. No. Why would I…
The door. When I heard it, I thought somebody was shutting me in. Trapping me down here.
“Here,” she’s saying, then pressing something to my face. When I don’t react, she proceeds to wipe my face. What… When her hand pulls back, I notice the drenched handkerchief in her hand. Is that my sweat? When did I…
“I think we should get you out of here,” she says.
Sounds like a good idea. I try to move my legs, but I can barely get my knees off the floor. Fuck. When did my legs turn into noodles?
“We can wait a little longer,” she says.
I nod and throw my head back against the wall behind me and close my eyes. What the fuck was that? I thought I was so over this shit.
I’m aware of Mari moving, settling beside me. I would have preferred to have no audience for what just transpired, but I’m well aware that her presence might be the only thing that brought me back to the present. Her presence is also comforting–I’m not going to try to figure out why.
It takes a while before I start feeling like myself again. When I move my legs, they obey. My heart is also no longer trying to escape my chest.
“We can go now,” I say quietly.
There’s a beat of silence, and then she says, “I’m sorry.”
I turn to look at her sideways. “For?”
“Everything you went through. I wish…I wish I could have–”
“You couldn’t have done anything,” I cut her short. “You were thirteen when I was locked up. Eighteen when I got out.”
“It makes me so mad, to think that nobody came to your help. Where was Noah? God, I always knew he was a pretentious little shit–”
“Don’t blame him.”
“He was afraid of going up against your father, wasn’t he? Makes sense. He couldn’t even stand up to your bullies…”
I reach out and grab her hand. “I don’t want to talk about them, about any of it.”
She exhales heavily. “Okay.”
I let go of her hand and clench mine into a fist. My fingertips are tingling, but it’s nothing compared to what happened at the nightclub. And that reminds me that I have been doing my absolute best to stay away from her.
“It’s nice to have you alone like this,” she says before I can suggest that we leave again. I go stiff when her head lands on my shoulder. “It’s like when we were kids.”
“We are not kids anymore, Mari.”
“Yeah,” she says, her voice a little sad.
“We should go back,” I say. Everything seems to have shifted within seconds. Suddenly, her scent is the only thing in my nose, and every nerve on the side of my body she’s leaning on seems to be overworking.
“I wish I had found you sooner, Stefan. Before her.”
Her words hang in the air around us like a guillotine’s blade.
“I heard that you were looking–”
“No!” The word leaves my mouth sharply at the same time that I lurch forward, removing myself from the ground and from beside her. “Don’t.”
She comes to her feet, two flashlights in her hand. She has my phone. I reach forward and take it.
“You were my first love. You know that, right?” She keeps coming closer as I shake my head. “And I know that you–”
“I really want to protect you, Mari,” I cut her short. “But if you don’t stop right now, I’ll have to send you away.”
“Why? Why do you have to do that? I can handle rejection. Just tell me you’re over me. But if you’re not, and there’s a chance–”
“There is none.”
“Then what are you so afraid of?”
“Don’t push it,” I warn, moving backwards towards the stairs.
“You can’t fight your nature, Stefan.”
Yeah, fuck that.
“I’ve bonded with your sister. She is the only one for me.”
“Are you sure?” She’s getting closer. “I’ve lived with werewolves for the past thirteen years, you know. I know that a bonded male has no business getting turned on by another person besides their mate.”
“I don’t know what…”
“I’m a shifter, Stefan. Give me some credit. That night, I could smell your arousal, and I know it wasn’t because of her.”
I grind my teeth. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why were you looking for me?”
I take another step towards the trap door. “I have friends you can stay with until I deal with Blackrise. I’ll arrange it when I get back to the house.”
“Stefan–”
I don’t hear the rest of her words as I hurry up the stairs, lift the door out of the way, and walk into the night.
By the time she appears, I’m long gone, shredding my clothes–no time to stop and strip–as I shift and run into the night.