Running Away From Truth

POV: Calla

"There's a ritual. It's dangerous and painful, but it will unbind you from Vane," my mother retorted. The words hung heavy in the tense, stagnant air of the office.

I froze. Shock paralyzed my lungs. The floor felt like it was dropping out from under my feet. My own mother sat there, staring me in the eyes, genuinely suggesting I undergo a horrific process that would brand me a Scarred One. It meant permanently severing my bond. It meant stripping away my ability to shift forever. My wolf would be trapped in the dark. I stared at her, horror boiling into a raw, feral frustration. I refused to stomach another word of this insanity.

"Are you out of your mind?" I screamed, the sound tearing up my throat. "Do any of you care for me at all? You want to mutilate me!"

I didn't wait for an answer. I spun on my heel and stormed out of the office. My vision tunneled as I raced to my childhood bedroom in a frantic blur. I dragged my suitcase from the closet and threw clothes inside, not caring what I packed. Shirts, jeans, and random shoes piled up in a chaotic mess. I yanked my phone from my pocket and typed a text to Vane with shaking thumbs.

*I'm heading home early. I'll see you soon.*

His reply pinged back in seconds. *See you soon then.*

A strange chill crept down my spine at the brief response, but I shoved the phone away. I zipped the suitcase shut, grabbed the handle, and sprinted down the stairs. I bypassed my siblings, ignoring their voices calling my name. I fled the house without a single goodbye, desperate to outrun the truth they were trying to force onto me. I threw my bag into the backseat of my car, slammed the heavy metal door, and gunned the engine.

I sped recklessly down the highway. My knuckles turned white around the steering wheel, and my foot pressed heavy on the gas pedal. Inside my mind, Rhea stirred. She clawed at my consciousness, pleading with me.

*Right now, you are walking directly into the open arms of your prison warden,* Rhea snarled. Her primal instincts screamed of impending doom. *Turn this car around!*

*I have to try. He’s my fated mate,* I insisted aloud to the empty car. *There's a reason we are together. I just need to fix this. I can make him see reason.*

*Losing our ability to shift is a worthy sacrifice if it means staying alive!* Rhea argued back with fierce, desperate passion. *He is an escalating monster. It is going to get worse. We cannot go back to him!*

I shook my head, gripping the leather wheel tighter. I desperately clung to the delusion that I could salvage my toxic relationship. I wanted to prove my overprotective family wrong. I could not accept the ritual. I could not just throw a sacred mate bond away because things were difficult. I spent the rest of the drive in a heavy, suffocating silence. Rhea refused to speak to me anymore, retreating into the back of my mind.

I pulled into our driveway mid-afternoon. My stomach twisted into tight, painful knots. I expected screaming. I expected harsh punishment for running off to my parents' pack without his permission. I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag from the back, and pushed the front door open.

"Hey babe, I'm home," I called out, plastering the best fake smile onto my face to hide my lingering terror.

Vane stepped out of the kitchen. There was no anger in his eyes. There was no clenched jaw or balled fists. Instead, he greeted me with a shocking, sweet demeanor. He smiled warmly, stepping forward to meet me in the hallway.

"Cal, leave your bag right there. I'll take it up later. Come sit in the kitchen," he said, his voice smooth and accommodating. "Tell me how your visit to your dad's pack was. I brewed you some tea."

A massive, foolish weight lifted off my tense shoulders. The old Vane was back. He cared. He missed me. My fear dissolved into overwhelming relief.

*See?* I snapped at Rhea in my mind. *You were wrong about him. You are always so paranoid.*

Rhea remained fiercely guarded. She fell silent, but her hackles raised. Her primal senses bristled, sensing something terrible lingering in the room. I ignored her warnings and sat at the kitchen island.

Vane placed a steaming mug right in front of me. The rich, sweet aroma filled the air. It was a delicate blend of rose, chrysanthemum, and fennel. My favorite. He had even added the perfect spoonful of honey.

"How was the heir ceremony?" Vane asked, pulling out a chair and sitting across from me, smiling like a perfect, doting mate.

I lifted the mug and took a long drink. The sweet, warm liquid coated my dry throat. I drank it down to the dregs, gleefully recounting the mundane details of the trip. I talked about the food shortages, the decorations, the political chatter. I let my guard down, relishing in the false peace of our home.

Then, a sudden, heavy wave of dizziness hit my brain. The kitchen tilted sideways. The edges of my vision blurred into a thick, gray haze. My heart began to palpitate.

"Rhea, what's going on?" I panicked, gripping the edge of the granite counter to steady myself.

*I can't hold on much longer,* Rhea whispered weakly. Her presence slipped. The spiritual bond stretched paper-thin before she faded away into a deep, unreachable, medically induced sleep. Wolfsbane. He had spiked the herbal tea with concentrated wolfsbane.

My physical body grew heavy, resembling dead weight. My fingers slipped from the counter edge. I collapsed dramatically from the kitchen chair, crashing hard onto the wooden floorboards. The impact rattled my teeth, but my limbs refused to move. I lay paralyzed on the floor.

Vane pushed his chair back. The scraping sound echoed like a death knell in my ears. He crouched down directly above my face. His sweet facade melted away in an instant, replaced by the most vile, psychotic grin I had ever seen.

"So, you really thought you could get away from me," he sneered maliciously, his voice dripping with pure, dark poison. "Just so that you know, you are mine forever."

The darkness claimed my consciousness, pulling me under the icy surface.

I woke up an unknown amount of time later with a blinding, pounding headache. I blinked through the haze, staring up at the familiar exposed wooden beams. Dust motes danced in the dim light. I was lying on a thin mattress in the dusty loft located directly above my jewelry shop.

I tried to shift my legs, but a sharp, burning agony shot up my calf. I gasped, sitting up in a panic. A heavy silver cuff clamped viciously around my bare ankle. The magical metal seared my skin, turning the flesh angry red and blistering the surface. It painfully and effectively suppressed any of Rhea's desperate attempts to surface and heal me. I could feel her trapped somewhere deep in the dark, unable to reach through the silver's poison.

Pure, unadulterated terror set in. I threw my legs over the side of the mattress and dragged my heavy body across the floor. The metal chain clanked against the wood. I reached the loft door and grabbed the iron handle. It didn't budge. I rattled it hard. It was padlocked from the outside.

"Help!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Someone help me! I'm locked in!"

I slammed my fists against the thick wood. I banged on the door until my knuckles split open and bled, smearing red streaks across the grain. My throat burned from screaming for a savior that was never going to come. I fought against the chains, panting and sobbing on the floorboards.

Footsteps sounded on the wooden stairs. Heavy, deliberate boots. I backed away from the door, my chest heaving. The heavy metallic locks clicked, one by one. The door swung open.

Vane stepped inside. His sickening, triumphant grin returned in full force. He looked down at me like I was a trapped animal.

"Glad to see you are finally awake," he said, looking around the dusty room. "Since you like being at this shop so much, I figured you should just live here now."

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had to fix this. I had to talk him down from this ledge.

"Vane, please," I begged, my voice cracking. "You know you can't do this. I know you are mad I went to my parents, but I'm home now. Let's just sit down. Let's talk about this like civilized mates. We can work this out."

He didn't stop. He marched aggressively toward me, his boots thudding against the floorboards.

"There is nothing to work out. I am your mate. You are mine. End of discussion!" he roared, the sheer volume shaking the walls of the loft.

He lunged forward. His hands gripped my shoulders, and he shoved me backward onto the small mattress. The old springs groaned under my weight. He stood over me, his face twisted in a dark, feral snarl. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the mattress, and demanded I stop fighting. He told me to show him exactly how good of a submissive mate I could be. He leaned his heavy body over mine, intent on forcing his will.

Survival instinct kicked in. I twisted my hips and kicked out, my heel catching his shin. I scratched at his arms, fighting him off with everything I had. But the silver cuff sapped my energy. Without Rhea's enhanced strength flowing through my veins, my human form was far too weak. I was nothing compared to a fully grown adult male wolf.

My fierce physical resistance only served to enrage him further. His eyes darkened with sheer fury. For the very first time in our relationship, he drew back his hand.

He struck me hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the small loft. My head snapped to the side. A blinding flash of pain erupted across my cheekbone. The metallic taste of blood rapidly pooled in my mouth. I choked, spitting red onto the worn sheets.

The terrified tears I had always forcefully held back finally spilled over my bruised cheeks. They fell hot and fast, mixing with the blood on my face.

Vane stood up, adjusting his shirt. He stared down at me, his eyes devoid of any humanity.

"Next time, just do exactly as you are told," he threatened coldly. "Or I promise you it will be much worse."

He turned his back and stepped out of the room. The door shut heavy and loud. I laid there on the mattress, trembling as I heard the heavy metallic locks sliding firmly into place, sealing my fate.

The silence crashed down on me, suffocating and thick. My cheek throbbed. The silver burned deep into my ankle. I pulled my knees to my chest, curling into a tight ball. My fatal mistake of returning to my abuser out of fear and denial had led me straight into a cage.

"Rhea, you were right," I sobbed into the empty room, my body shaking uncontrollably from the physical trauma. "I became his prisoner."

Deep within my mind, through her own quiet, suppressed tears, Rhea stirred weakly. *We are going to be okay,* she softly promised, her voice a fragile whisper against the pain of the silver. *We will somehow, eventually make it out of this hell.*

I fully accepted my status as a hostage. Utterly broken and physically battered, I laid my head down on the cold bed and cried myself into an exhausted, pained sleep.