Ansel
I wake, feeling a pounding pressure in my head. I groan softly then whimper. A Light shines on my face and I don't want to risk opening my eyes only to be in more pain. I feel that I am on a bed. An unfamiliar one. Maybe I had been rescued and brought to safety. But then I remembered that everyone probably bought I was at the safe house already. Maybe I had been taken as a hostage.
I feel a pang in my heart. Father and Mother were still at the palace. I say a quick prayer to the Moon Goddess asking her to help my parents.
I take a deep breath smelling many scents. None familiar. There were so many people here. This is not my pack or a safe house. I smell once again that beautiful rose scent. This time it is almost overwhelming. But somehow it makes my head hurt a little less.
I have to open my eyes. I have to escape wherever I am.
I slowly crack my lids open. The light which I thought was bright, is only a small strip of golden light coming from a cracked door. I look around to see that I am in a small room. The walls are a rose gold pinkish color. I lay atop a little bed with white fluffed covers. I feel them, finding that the top blanket is stuffed with feathers. The only things in this room that I can see is the bed and a small table that holds a candle and a glass of water.
Noticing details was quite hard with my heavy eyelids closing on my every few seconds. But I do notice that I am clutching an object close to my form. I peek down to find Father's crown. I stifle on a sob, remembering the last time I saw Father. At least I had gotten to keep the crown with me.
I jump upright into a sitting position when I hear shifting and creaking of floorboards in the room coming from behind me. I clutch Father's crown close to my chest, and I turn around to find a man that looks like Father sitting in a chair. His eyes open and meet mine. Fear courses through my veins as I scramble out of the bed.
"Ansel? Ansel!" The man exclaims. He hops out of the chair and makes his way over to me.
I let out a blood-curdling scream and fall to the floor. I scoot backward using my free hand until I press against the wall behind me. I back myself further into the corner and let out another terrified screech. Tears begin to pour down my cheeks as I look up at the man in front of me.
The man stops and stares at me with the most pain-filled eyes I'd ever seen. I hear thundering footsteps towards the door and I begin to wail. I can't remember the last time I had cried like this, but I never wanted to again. It made me feel so...weak.
The door swings open, slamming harshly against the wall behind it. I cry out at the loud noise and bury my face into my knees which I hold tightly to my chest.
The overwhelming scent of rose enters the room. My body shakes, but this time from an unexpected wave of pleasure. I slowly raise my head to find an extremely tall man with the powerful aura of an Alpha. But not a full Alpha. Which means the Alpha before him has yet to retire from his position.
He has beautifully tanned skin with big muscles. His hair is a midnight black that shines in the dull light coming from outside the door. His eyes are a bright golden hazel color. This man was so handsome. The amazing scent that I keep on smelling was coming from him.
Mate.
No. No, no. This cannot be happening to me. The Alpha of our enemy pack could not be my mate.
The man stalks over to me and lifts me up by my arms. I cry out and struggle against his tight hold. He presses his face against my shoulder and lets out small chuffing noises followed by little growls. I still scream and kick at his body, refusing to submit to him.
"Calm down, little mate. You are safe now. Everything will be alright."
What the hell is he talking about?! They kidnapped me, for Goddess sake!
I sob and beat at his chest with a closed fist. My other hand still clutching onto Father's crown. The man snarls and pulls me closer to his chest. One of the sharp tips of Father's crown pierces my skin. I gasp, my breath hitching. The tip drags down my arm, slicing it even further.
"Ah-," small noises of pain make their way past my chapped lips. Thick crimson blood trails down my arms and drips off of my fingertips onto the floor.
"Stop! Stop this at once! You are hurting him!" Someone says from somewhere behind the man.
The man pulls me back and growls ferociously when he sees the blood on my arm. He drops me to the floor, pain shooting up from my knees as I hit the floor hard. He bends down, ripping Father's crown from my shaky hands.
I cry out and stand on wobbly legs. I reach for the crown but he holds it away from me. There is now a large puddle of thick dark red liquid on the floor. The blood staining my already dirty clothes.
The man throws Father's crown onto the bed and grips my arm just above my wound. I moan and sob in pain as blood spills faster from my wound from the added pressure. All the while I hear protests from behind us. Disapproving on how my "mate" was handling this.
The man picks me up and cradles me to his wide chest. I have no more strength to fight as he makes his way out of the room. I simply go limp in his arms, fearing that if I move even the slightest, he will hurt me again. I close my eyes, feeling sick from all of the swaying motions as he walks.
Tears flow from my eyes like a waterfall as I clutch my bloody arm. I begin to wail again as my arm begins to throb with immense pain. The man above me sets me down on what feels like a table. I open my eyes to see that it is a doctoring table.
"Ansel," the man standing in front of me says. How does everyone know my name? "Ansel, don't you remember us? Remember me?" The man looks hurt as I shake my head no. "It's me. Greyson. Please remember."
I search my mind for the name Greyson. I do remember the name. But I can't place any memory to it. As I am thinking about where I could have possibly met this beautiful man before, I feel a sharp prick on my wound.
I cry out and try to pull away but a new person, a short woman with brown hair and grey eyes, gently tugs my arm back.
"Stay still for just a second. I almost have the stitch in. It looks like a sharp object dragged down and cut a gouge into your arm. It's a very nasty cut. You should need at least twenty stitches. The more still you are the faster I can get done with this. Alright?" The woman says with a kind voice.
I nod, confused as to why they were treating me— a hostage — kindly.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Alpha Greyson." The woman says. Greyson nods hesitantly and leaves the room. I let out a sigh of relief as his scent disappears from the room.
I flinch slightly every time the needle pokes through the skin on my arm. After the woman is done she cleans the drying blood from my skin. She checks on the other cuts on my body from the previous night then tells me to lay down.
"Why?" I ask her.
"Even though you just woke up you should get some more rest. And drink some water. As of now, you are very dehydrated. I will be just outside this room in the first door to the left if you need me. Please get some rest, Beta Ansel."
The woman walks out of the room and I stare as she leaves with a confused expression, no doubt.
Beta Ansel? What's going on here?
I take a deep breath and lay back to find an uncomfortable pillow beneath my head. Closing my eyes for a little bit won't hurt. I firmly shut my eyes, only to bolt upright at the sound of the door opening.
The man who looks like Father walks into the room. I jump off of the "bed" and take a long sharp pair of surgical scissors from the metal table to the side of me. I point them at the man and back up.
"Ansel," The man says. He puts his hands up. "Don't you remember me? Your father?"
I scowl. "You are not my Father! My Father is Asmodeus. King and Alpha of the Blood Claw Pack. And once he finds out where I am he will kill you! He will kill all of you! So stay the fuck away from me!" I scream at the man. My uncle. Ammon.
I feel a sudden pang of guilt though. I had never once sworn out loud before in my whole life. Mother taught me never to use bad language because she had said that it was not appropriate for a royal to be so foul-mouthed. And out of all the nasty words I just had to scream, it was one of the worst ones.
"Ansel," Ammon's voice cracks. "Please. I'm your real father. You were four and you went into the woods. You were playing hide and seek with Greyson and you disappeared. We have never stopped looking for you. And when we found out that you were taken hostage by my broth—"
"Lies!" I yell. "All lies! You were the one that kidnapped me! Twice now! You are only trying to turn me against Father! Everyone knows that you were jealous of him. How you wished to be an Alpha like him when you were born a Beta. And you had the audacity to try to kidnap me when I was just a small baby, so you could take over because you could have a pup with Alpha blood. Well, guess what? I'm going to get out of here, and when I do your pack will not exist anymore! My kingdom will tear your kingdom to shreds. Until there is no one left! Mark my words. You. Will. Pay."
"Ansel," The Ammon pleads. At the same moment, another man walks in. His aura reads as an Alpha and I suddenly get scared. They could both easily overpower me. I need to think of a way to get out of here. Now.
"What the hell is going on here?! What is all this commotion about?!" The man demands. His angry face forms into one of shock as his eyes fall on me.
"Ansel?" The Alpha asks. "Oh my Goddess, Ansel, look at how grown-up you are. Why are you holding scissors? Can you put them down for me? We only wish to talk with you. Please, Ansel."
Ammon, who watches me with cautious eyes, tries to approach me. Slowly making his way over to my shaking form. His hands still held out in front of him. But I know better. If he does overpower me there is no stopping them if they wanted to hurt or kill me. I am not going to let them get close to me without the two men getting hurt themselves. I will not back down without a fight. If they think I will just submit to them, they are highly mistaken. I will get out of here and I will see my parents again.
When Ammon gets close enough that I can reach out and touch him, I cry out. Swinging my arm backward and then forwards, driving the sharp tip of the scissors into his side.