4 The Valentine Brothers III

"You are―"

"Damon's twin brother, yes," Blaise answered. He strolled over to the armchair right by the bed, plopping himself down before resting his chin on the back of his hand. "You're finally awake. You've been out cold for a long time. Damon really needs to know how to hold his punches when it comes to women."

"For how long?" I asked warily. 

I hadn't heard much of Blaise Valentine, only that he had a notorious older brother that he was very loyal to. If he was willing to follow Damon to the ends of the world, he couldn't be anyone good.

"Three days," Blaise said, leaning forward to reach a hand out. I flinched instinctively, thinking that he was going to hit me, but he only placed it on my forehead, feeling for my temperature. I couldn't help but flush at the unexpected gentle touch and my heart fluttered in my ribcage. 

I took a deep breath to calm myself down, but it only caused me to inhale more of his alluring scent. The pull I felt earlier got stronger, and it took every fiber of my being to remain calm and composed. 

"Still slightly warm." He tutted to himself, shooting me a wry smile."It's best to stay in bed for a couple more days. I hope you don't plan on escaping."

My eyes flashed as I rattled the chains angrily. "You can't keep me here against my will!"

"Funny enough, we just did," Blaise shrugged. "Don't worry, we take pride in our hospitality. We have received no complaints so far. No one is unsatisfied with the way things are run here."

I couldn't help the scoff that emerged from my throat. Who would dare to complain after seeing the destructive capabilities of their alpha?

"You don't believe me?"

"I think you are full of shit," I retorted, scooting away from him to increase the distance between us. "If you expect me to believe that your captives are singing your praises, you'll be disappointed." 

Blaise snickered at my words, but then he stood up, looming over my sitting form. I tried to shuffle further back, only for my back to hit the wall. 

"You have a smart mouth, it'll be a shame if anything were to happen to it," Blaise mused, shaking his head in amusement. This time, he tucked my hair behind my ears and cupped my cheek. My heart began racing faster at this intimate gesture. 

"What are you planning?" I demanded, trying to sound braver than I actually was. 

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about. You should just focus on recovering," Blaise said. "We can't have you falling ill so close to the ceremony."

"The ceremony?" I repeated warily. "What are you talking about?"

"Oops, it just slipped out. It's supposed to be a secret." Blaise had a contrite look on his face, but I wasn't fooled in the least. There was a wicked glint in his eyes that led me to believe that he revealed it on purpose, most likely because he wanted to see me worry and panic.

Which of course meant that there was something that would cause me to feel worried and panic. I balled my fingers into fists, longing to let them fly against the disgustingly handsome face right in front of me.

"Don't worry, darling. You and your pretty face simply need to show up. You won't even need to say a single word. The hard work will be done by the pack. Now, rest well, I'll see you soon." With that enigmatic promise, Blaise finally stood up to leave. 

But I wasn't done with him yet. There was something more important than the cryptic ceremony that I absolutely needed to know about. If I didn't get answers now, I might never get them. Who knows how often prisoners get such esteemed visitors?

"Wait! Wait! Blaise!" I yelled desperately.

Just as I hoped, Blaise stopped walking and turned back to me with a raised eyebrow. The gentle smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes. "What do you need? If it's information about the ceremony, it's still a secret, no matter what you're willing to give me."

His eyes roved all over my body as a smirk crossed his face. I wanted to cover my body with my hands, but the uncomfortably tight silver chains made me reluctant to move, leaving my body free for his hungry eyes to devour. His scent suddenly grew stronger, and I had to squash down the whimper that was threatening to claw out from my throat.

"No, no, that's not what I want to ask," I hurriedly said in order to distract him. "I want to know what happened to my friend Lydia. I know Damon… stabbed her… and she's dead…" I blinked back tears as the sight of Lydia's falling body replayed in my mind. "But is she buried somewhere? Can I see her?"

"Oh darling," Blaise murmured, but there was no sympathy in his eyes. "Why would she be buried? There's no body left."

"No… you can't… why…" I choked out a sob as his words finally sunk in. 

So not only did Lydia die, but these bastards couldn't even be bothered to give her a proper funeral, to mourn her with the dignity of a werewolf. Nor did they bury her so she could rejoin the Moon Goddess… 

This was simply inhumane!

To them, Lydia may have been a werewolf from an enemy pack, but she still deserved better. No proper alpha would let them treat their dead so callously! A howl of anguish tore through my throat, and I lunged for Blaise, wanting to rip his head from his neck. 

I wanted to hurt Blaise. I needed to sink my pathetic human fingers into his heart and crush it into pieces, so Damon could feel even the slightest hint of agony I felt from Lydia's passing. 

The chains pulled taut before I could get far, causing me to slam back on the bed as tears rolled down my face. Instantly, I hissed in pain; what was a human's strength against thick metal? 

Already understanding the futility of my attempt, Blaise hadn't even moved a single step back. 

Instead, he stepped closer and loomed over my prone body, gently wiping my tears away with the pads of his thumbs, the parody of a loving mate.

"There, there, Harper. You won't remember her soon enough. It's better for everyone that way."