Enemy of my Enemy

𝕿𝖊𝖓

Once all the strength had returned to Bianca's body, she spent an entire hour throwing herself against the door of the wine cellar. Had it been an ordinary door made out of wood or even steel, she would have been able to bust through it easily. But this door was something else- No amount of kicking or shoving or pounding made any difference.

Henry was going to die. He was probably already dead. And Bianca hated him for having literally thrown her to the wolves, but she knew he wouldn't have done so if he'd had any other choice.

Right? That had to be the case. Bianca refused to let herself become the idiot girl who had befriended two backstabbers.

A glimpse in the full length mirror by the door made her thoughts come to an abrupt pause. The girl in the mirror couldn't possibly be herself. She was a werewolf, the daughter of an alpha, and people like her didn't get bruises and... Were those hickies?

Marks had formed all over the parts of her skin where Grayson had kissed her, and her neck, which he had used to squeeze the air out of her lungs earlier, was purple. Bianca traced the scar which ran down the side of her face, and after a bit of thinking, figured out the reason behind this strange phenomenon. Wolves could heal from everything ranging from paper cuts to broken bones in a matter of minutes, but not when the injuries were directly made by an alpha.

The bruises would go away eventually, wouldn't they? Bianca knew the scar her father had given her had shown no signs of disappearing for the past year, but a bruise wasn't the same as a scar. It has to heal, she thought to herself as she pulled on her shirt and tugged the collar up. She was not going to live with a permanent reminder of Grayson Briare etched onto her skin in such a bold fashion.

"I'm bored!" Bianca resorted to shouting herself hoarse when the energy in her body had sapped out. "Can't you at least toss an ipad in here, or something?"

They did not toss her an ipad, but they did bring her food. Six guards entered the cellar, and with five of them keeping aconite guns trained at her chest, the sixth guard placed a simple dinner meal in front of her.

"What about the bathroom?" Bianca demanded.

They ignored her. Bianca was about to hurl her platform boots at the guards' faces, regardless of the consequences that would follow, when a college aged man in a white shirt and a denim jacket entered the room. "Let her through," he told them. "She won't be causing any trouble, not with the I've got leverage over her." The guards hesitated, but only for a second.

Frowning, Bianca made her way to the door and stared at the man. "What do you mean, leverage?" she asked.

"Shall we?" the man swung his arm around her shoulders, and like a reflex, she shoved him off of her.

"Don't touch me," she snapped.

"Not how you treated Gray earlier, but fine," he shrugged.

Bianca felt her face burning up. To hide this, she scowled at him and gave him another shove. "You can tell Gray that I only did what I did because it was the easiest way to get information out of him," she lied.

"Whatever you say, princess." He tried to lead her toward the stairs, but she didn't budge.

"What leverage?" Bianca repeated her question.

"I caught your little friend and his family trying to skip town. Like you, we have them locked up. Unlike you, keeping them alive isn't really a top priority of ours."

Bianca's heart sunk to the ground. "You're bluffing," she said, though she was only half sure. She took pride in being able to detect lies easily, but that was only with humans. Lies were harder to discern when it came to wolves. Still, something wasn't right.

"Well, if that's the case, I suppose you can pummel me to death right now," the man said.

She glowered at him, knowing she couldn't risk doing that just yet.

"Roman Reyes," he offered her his hand.

The name was familiar to her, and Bianca recalled having heard it during one of her father's meetings. "One of Briare's lackeys, I presume?" she said, knowing full well this wasn't the case. She just felt like provoking him.

"Briare's right hand man, actually," he answered with a smile.

She walked up the stairs with him right behind her, and found herself in a polished marble corridor. "Tight through there," Reyes pointed to the door ahead of them.

She entered the bathroom with the goal of spending as much time in there as she could, and made it a point to slam the door loudly behind her. Reyes's comment about Grayson may have played in as a factor in her actions- She furiously turned on the faucet and brought icy cold water to her neck and chest.

"Twenty minutes," Reyes glanced at his wristwatch, once she'd walked out. "You spent twenty minutes in there."

"I'm sorry, did my bathroom break mess up your perfect little schedule?" Bianca huffed.

"Just get back inside." He took her by her arm, and in response, she elbowed him in the gut. "Sorry," he raised his hands in defense. "I forgot you only like being touched by homicidal nineteen year olds."

Bianca let out a frustrated scream which seemed to amuse him, then marched back into the wine cellar of her own volition. Being alone in an empty underground room was ten times better than having to spend another second with him. She hated all of them. The guards, Reyes, and most of all, Grayson. What business did he have, going around blabbing about what she and he had done?

Then again, maybe she was giving him too much credit. Sure, he was an infamous alpha with vast resources, but at the end of the day, he was a boy. A stupid boy who did stupid boy things like telling his friends all about the girl he'd almost fucked.

God, what had Bianca been thinking? Consorting with the enemy was one thing. But trying to seduce the enemy? What would her father say?

Speaking of, where was her father? Questions of whether or not he cared for her aside, his only child being held leverage by an opposing power was a weakness. And there was nothing Lorenzo Blackburn hated more than being weak. Bianca would've expected him and an army to come kicking down the doors to this house by now.

Bianca finished her dinner, then laid down on the ground to get some sleep. But after half an hour of tossing and turning around, she couldn't take it anymore. This place was too damn uncomfortable, and it seemed the only way she would be able to fall asleep was if they shot her with the aconite darts again.

That was when it occurred to her that she was sitting in a wine cellar. A wine cellar whose shelves were lined with expensive bottles of all kinds. She took an especially pricey looking one, and took a large gulp. She came out coughing, and, feeling grateful that no one had been in here to witness that, continued to drink. This was probably why she was hobbling around at three in the morning, demanding that someone let her out so she could use the restroom. Three annoyed looking guards opened the door for her, but she ended up vomiting onto the staircase before she could reach the restroom.

"Have a fun time cleaning it up," she grumbled to the guards before staggering back into the cell.