Chapter Four

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Word Count: 1821

~Mara

I wake up soundly and comfortably.

Instantly am aware of where I am though, and my heart sinks in my chest. I am being held captive in the Vengeance Pack. My enemy Pack....

I slid out of bed. Last night it was dark, and I saw nothing of my room. Today, my breath catches in my throat as I realise what my room looks like.

I stand up, and stumble around. This is my room. But it isn't. Everything I know and love in this room right now. I remember picking out the colour scheme, hanging all the portraits and choosing my duvet set. And it's all here.

I run to the door, by its locked.

I suddenly feel disorientated. Was this all a bad dream? Am I home?

I bang on the door. "Mum! Dad! It's me, let me out!"

There is no answer to my calls. I turn and look back at my room. Everything is the same. The grey carpet, the blue walls. I wander over the the photographs of my mother and father. They look so happy. A tear falls from my eye, and onto the glass, covering my mothers face.

I fall back into my bed, and close my eyes. I can't tell what is real, and what is fake. I can't tell if I'm at home, or in the Vengeance Pack. I fell like I'm floating in between realities.

This is his fault. Kaden.

This is another one of his games. He wants me to feel confused, because confused is vulnerable. Suddenly I hate even more than ever.

I stand, closing out the familiarity around me, and try the door again. This time it opens, but toward me. I stumble back, as someone enters.

A young man stands at the doorway, looking in. He looks like what most Pack members here look like. Dark hair, dark eyes, very luminous and attractive. Basically the opposite of any Purity Pack member. Not dull. Not boring.

Instantly I feel nervous and out of place. I'm dressed in a thin, white night gown I vaguely remember putting on last night. This man, on the other hand wore full out leather armour, including gloves. Why does everyone here have to wear gloves?

He raises an eyebrow at me, noticing how I was slowly backing away.

"Mara?" He questions. He has that typical Vengeance Pack accent as well. Deep and exotic. I nod slowly at him. What does he want with me. I notice how he doesn't cross past where the door lies. Respectful at least.

"Who are you?" I question, sounding more rude than I intended. I'm blaming it on the stress.

"You may call me Coen," he says gently. He holds a hand out to me, and I stare at it. It's encased in leather, the side of his gloves decorated with small blue gems. Curious.

I swallow. "I hate leather."

He retracts his hand, looking at it for a moment. He's quite handsome, I hate to admit. And so far, the least intimidating person I've met here so far.

"Fair enough," he comments. He pulls his gloves off, tucking them inside his jacket pocket. His jacket is just as marvellous as the gloves, studded with the same gems. He holds his hand out to me as an offering again.

This time, I take it.

His warm fingers enclose around mind, and I let him lead me out of the room, and down a dimly lit hallway.

"You will have breakfast with your..."

He trails off, unsure of what to say. We aren't mates. Marriage is for royalty, and I'm not even that. He swallows uncomfortably.

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