2. Mate.

~ LAYLA ~

I yank at my restraints again.

“I see you’re awake.”

The haunting tease in the voice of the male—still approaching me—is evident, followed by a dark chuckle that sounds like a deep rumble from his throat.

I stay still and say nothing.

For now, it will be better and safer for me not to speak rashly.

The approaching footsteps get closer and closer, and then, they finally deliver my new company—or should I say my new captor—into the light puddle right there at the center of my cell floor.

When the light illuminates his face, I gasp.

Raelin Michaelson. The infamous Midnight alpha.

I feel it. I know it. I can't be mistaken.

The pack crest.

The alpha aura around me and almost choking me.

Even the ‘M’ engraving on the signet ring I now see around his left index finger all point to the realization that I am indeed in the presence of the alpha who loathes and despises the likes of me.

The alpha who I just discovered seconds ago…. is my mate.

Silence descends down on us once more—colder and now tainted with something sinister and full of hate.

I can feel the hate emanating from his alpha aura, harsh and cruel. He is tall and intimidating, his aura and commanding presence filling the small cell with a raw power that I know comes from his alpha blood.

His eyes are dark teal green, nearly black, and they are regarding me like I am nothing. Worthless.

A mere piece of rogue trash that had the guts to stumble into his pack territory.

“I can't believe Selene chose a lowlife like you to be my mate.” He spits out, his eyes still burning me with a gaze so intense it feels like they are burning deep into my very soul.

He knows I am his mate too. Interesting.

I guess the hatred is mutual between us then.

I never asked for this pathetic life. I also never asked to be mated to an alpha, much more an alpha with a taste for rogue blood.

An alpha who has sworn to destroy any rogue that dares venture into his territory again.

But wait, why am I still alive? Why has he kept me alive until now?

The reason can't possibly be because I am his mate.

The thought almost lures me into spitting out a scoff, but I hold in the urge to do so.

“Why am I here?” I demand instead, my voice hoarse but steady. “What do you want from me?”

My throat burns the more I speak. I am parched. I can't remember being fed even the slightest, tiniest drop of water ever since I was captured and locked in here like a fucking criminal.

“What do I want from you?” He repeats, and his lips twitch into something that might have been a condescending smirk, but the expression is gone too quickly to be sure.

He takes a step closer, and I press back against the wall, the cold stone digging into my skin.

“What do I want from you?” he says again, his tone now mocking me. He is close enough now that I can feel the heat radiating off him, and it takes everything in me not to shrink away in fear.

I keep mute, not saying anything.

I know that I am the prisoner here and he is my captor. But I will not allow even that circumstance to deter me or intimidate me into saying something that I might end up regretting.

Also, I will not let him see my fear. I will not give him the satisfaction of watching me squirm like a worm under his wicked hook.

His intense gaze flicks from my face down to my neck, then further down to my half-exposed breasts—straight to the locket necklace I always wear around my neck.

The only possession I have left of my family. Of Erin.

His eyes stay on the locket necklace, looking so intense, and I almost squirm in fear, the ringing in my ears getting louder and louder, almost deafening.

My hands ball into tight fists around the chains still binding me to the wall in an effort to resist myself from giving away my fear to him.

No. Please look away.

Please don't take the only physical memory I have left of my family from me.

Please.

As if he can hear the cry of my desperate thoughts, he looks away from the locket necklace and pins his attention back to my face.

“You asked what I want from you.” He takes a menacing step closer, his voice lowering into a much darker tone. “I want to know why a filthy rogue was trespassing my territory.”

The manner with which he spits out ‘filthy rogue’ is filled with so much disgust. So much disdain.

I swallow hard, my mind racing.

I can’t tell him the truth.

If I do, he will kill me, or worse, he might decide to successfully find a way of getting rid of me by sending me back to Kaliq.

Mate or not.

I may not know my exact fate in this place now⎼⎼whether I may eventually die here or not⎼⎼but I am very certain about what will happen to me if I ever cross paths with Kaliq again.

I will be dead by Kaliq's hands if Raelin ever hands me back to that monster.

However, what can I say now that can convince Raelin and make him believe me?

“Are you deaf, or just dumb to speak?” He rashes out impatiently.

“I wasn’t—” I start, but he cuts me off with a low growl, his eyes narrowing.

“Don’t even think about lying to me,” he warns, his dark tone of voice sending a dangerous shiver down my spine. “I can smell the fear on you, rogue. When I found you, you were running from something. Or someone.”

My heart skips a beat, and I force myself to keep my expression neutral, to keep my voice steady.

“I wasn’t trespassing.” My throat hurts. “I don't even know how I got here. Yes, I was running from someone, but that is the last thing I can remember.”

He does not look convinced by my answer. In fact, he looks like he is restraining himself from ripping my throat out.

“You expect me to believe that?” he asks, his voice dripping with skepticism. “You expect me to believe that you just happened to wander into my pack territory by accident?”