Claire POV.
Edited.

I don't know how long I've been down here. A couple of days, maybe two weeks or so? I'm not certain, but I know it's been a while. Mecca and I have grown pretty close during our time in bondage. Well, as close as we could be, I guess. She still talks to me like I'm less than her, with me being human and all. And let's not forget about her prize-winning growl that she releases whenever I call her a dog. But other than that, she's actually a pretty interesting person.

Listening to her stories about the different werewolf tribes and learning about their saviors, the Lycans, have become the highlight of my day. I find myself daydreaming about becoming a mate of one of the famous alphas, or a destined of any of the powerful Lycans, which would never happen of course. But it's still pretty exciting and absolutely romantic to dream about.

The love stories that Mecca has told me are super intense, terrifying even, yet they still manage to warm my heart as I just listen to her every time she talks about them.

It's really unfair that the other species are born with another half.

Mecca explained to me that vampires, werewolves, witches, gypsies, hunters, and lycans were all split into two. Then they're meant to find their other half regardless of place, time, or circumstance. They will find each other and become one instantly. Only a few humans have ever reported having that special companion of one of the other species, so it's extremely rare.

She also informed me that the Awakening happened because the vampires had become bitter towards a human destined to a lycan, specifically because she happened to catch the eye of one of the vampire kings. Apparently, she broke his heart, and he started a rebellion to enslave her entire race because of it.

Could you believe that? My entire race has been enslaved because of hatred and bitterness towards one human, who did nothing but find her other half. I guess that could be expected. They are selfish and cold‑hearted creatures.

Mecca's voice is the first thing I hear as I wake up. My stomach growls because of the little food intake I had since I have been sharing my food with her.

"Little human, the leech king came to visit you again while you were sleeping." She giggles and starts to further tease, "He even brought you a blanket. How cute!"

I sit up, just in time to see her sniff the air.

"Now, how strange is that?"

Her question seems to be directed more to herself than towards me.

A mischievous glint beams around those amber irises before they flicker that fascinating color of neon yellow. She has healed a lot because of me sharing my food portions with her, even though she doesn't take much—a little bread and water here and there.

I stretch my arms out.

"That is pretty strange," I confess while rolling off the cot.

I haven't seen King Nicklaus during my entire stay in the dungeon. Mecca has watched him from the shadows, coming to visit me every night. This is not the first time he has left me something behind. He's left me extra water or a change of clothes. I don't know why he does it, but he does. I try not to dwell on his strange actions too much. Every time I think about him, a piercing ache surfaces in the center of my heart.

A few moments of silence go by before she starts to fiddle with her collar.

"I have started to come to my own conclusions of his strange actions," she informs with a low growl.

"Is that so?" I respond, drawing my brows together. As soon as I stand my body starts to shake. It's colder than usual. I grab one of the sweaters that King Nicklaus has provided for me, and an idea pops into my head. "Do you think you can do that creepy she-wolf thing and stretch your arms out of the cell?"

She moves closer to the front of her cell.

"Creepy she-wolf thing!" Mecca leans against the bars of her cell, replacing her hands with sharp claws and furry paws.

Creepy, just like I said.

After I quickly pull the sweater over my head, I grab the wool blanket that the leech king has left behind. Then I move towards the front of my cell, pushing my hand between the bars.

"Here, take this." I search the dark hallway that separates the spaces of our cells. "You need it more than I do. At least I have clothes on."

I close my mouth, watching how she tilts her head from side to side. Her eyes glow that fascinating shade of yellow before she says, "I hope I'm wrong about my conclusions." She grabs the blanket. "It would really be unfortunate."

I tilt my head to the side. Her statement has already caught me off guard but her tone. . .

"What are you talkin—"

Footsteps are heard, stopping me from finishing my question. Mecca sniffs the air and turns to face me.

"We should meet again, human," Mecca states, as her eyes glow darker than I have witnessed so far, then she transforms into a were- . . . I mean she-wolf. She growls viciously in the direction of the individual who has not yet come into view.

I shift my eyes in their direction as well, only to be met by two glowing red orbs. I take a few steps back. Red eyes are always a bad sign in my experience.

The figure comes into view just as I reach my cot. Mecca continues to growl as I instantly recognize the vampire.

"King Xander?" My mouth hangs open slightly in a moment of pure shock.

Without responding, his red irises scan over me briefly, then he cuts his eyes in Mecca's direction. Abruptly, he slams against the bars of her cell.

She transforms into her full-fledged wolf and pounces on the bars, her yellow orbs dancing with hatred.

I watch their exchange in silence even though I'm fully aware of what she is. It's not like every day you get to see a woman turned into a giant brown wolf.

Mecca never demonstrates fondness of their kind, and who can honestly blame her for it? But this is different. The glint of detestation in her eyes says it all. She holds great execration towards him.

"Claire," Xander hisses, unlocking my cell without taking his attention off Mecca, "let's go now."

He's in my cell in the blink of an eye and the next thing I know I'm already in front of the familiar door, which leads us out of the dungeon. He moved so fast that I didn't even realize it when he took me out of my cell until the door came into view. I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to Mecca, at least I was able to give her a blanket before I left.

I fight the urge to ask him why he hates Mecca so much. I'm attempting to remember my place, and that others are left to suffer as consequences for my actions.

Painted portraits of the vampire kings hanging on the walls meet us. Suddenly, the story about the lycans human destined that Mecca told me about finds its way back into my mind. I wonder which king started it.

"You have grown fondness over that she-wolf, haven't you?" Xander asks.

I forget that he is able to read my mind. I have to be very careful around him. I wrap my arms around myself.

"Mecca is, interesting. She's . . ."

He steps in front of me, causing me to run straight into him. His hard, muscular body makes me feel as if I run straight into a brick wall, knocking me off balance. He catches me just in time.

"She is a she-wolf . . ."—he pauses as I struggle to balance myself from the unexpected impact—"a very dangerous and bitter one at that."

Apparently, you all are.

Lucky for me he wasn't reading my mind. I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate my sarcastic remark.

Once he realizes that I'm not going to respond to him, well at least not out loud anyway, he turns around, knowing I'll follow behind him without being told. The warmth of the mansion bubbles against my skin, sweat starting to drip from my back.

The sweater is perfect for the dungeon, but not so good for my new environment.

Unlike my first impression of this place, my second encounter is not so glamorous. The stories that Mecca shared with me provided me with vast knowledge of how the vampire kind truly is. Every item in their possession has a monstrous story behind it, including this palace.

Xander glances over his shoulder at me and says, "You're a lot less talkative than I remember."

We only met once, when your brother and king decided to take me as his chosen without my consent, of course!

"Staying in a dungeon would do that to a person," I reply with my head down. I think about my remark. "My apologies. I didn't mean to disrespect our king."

"Our king." He stops in his tracks in front of one of the many red doors. "Since when did you form respect for, our . . . king?" He stretches out his question while his now stormy-gray eyes study me, waiting patiently for my answer.

I release air from my lungs, calculating the right way to respond.

"You don't have to pretend to be something you're not in front of me, Claire . . ." his voice trails off, as he holds the door open for me to step in. "I don't know what that mutt has implanted in your head about me, but I'm sure whatever she said was a single version of the truth."

The single version of what truth? What makes him believe she just patronized him? What am I missing . . . ?

We step inside of what seems to be a bedroom with rich décor. It isn't as massive and expensive as King Nicklaus's penthouse, but it is still impressive. The room is very spacious, but closed-in, not a single drop of sunlight could burst through the covered windows. There's a massive black sofa set in the living room, matching the loveseat sets that sit in the center. All the furniture is black, slick, and stylish, but it did nothing for the gloomy vibe of this room. A grand staircase sits in the center of the room, which must lead to the bedrooms.

"Claire, did you hear anything I said?" Xander asks me, closing the door behind us.

I nod, waiting for further instructions. I'm under the impression that he's escorting me back to King Nicklaus, with me being his chosen and all.

"Where are we?" I ask, allowing my thoughts to slip out.

He reaches for my arm and drags me towards the couch. I flinch at his unexpected touch.

"You're in the room that I reside in, whenever I stay in Nicklaus's kingdom. Is that alright with you?"

Does it matter?

"Well in fact it actually does," he answers my unspoken question.

Stupid mind reader, I think to myself.

Xander smiles.

"You don't like me invading your thoughts, do you?" He takes a seat.

I continue to stand and watch him warily.

"You have my permission to be blunt, Claire. And please take a seat."

I follow his demand without thinking and remain silent for a moment, before finally answering, "No, I don't. But it really doesn't matter now, does it?"

My eyes move down to my lap and study my fidgeting hands as I try my best not to disrespect him. He notices my feelings towards Mecca, and if he's anything like his brother, he will not hesitate to hurt her, or worse. And I will not be able to live with that. Not again.

"Claire, look at me."

The tone of his voice startles me. I slowly bring my eyes up to follow his command.

His body tenses visibly as he answers my question, "Yes, it actually does matter to me."

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