Chapter 2 Murdered

ISOLDE

I’m a cold blooded murderer.

I killed my own husband, and I don’t even regret it. Instead, the excitement bubbling through my veins is unmatched with anything I’ve ever felt.

I’m free.

Even with the loud voices bouncing off the walls from raging warriors eager to have my head, a crazy laugh still crawls out of my throat.

Clutching a black robe I’d snatched from my closet minutes ago, I slide into Bernard’s chambers, and lock the door.

“Get her!” A loud boom nearly deafens me as the door blows into pieces. Hiding under a wooden table, I pull out a sharp wood from my arm, groaning low when my flesh tears along with it.

Pack warriors barge inside, scanning the entire room, and I shakily grab Bernard’s pistol that’s always under his desk drawer. For a second, I'm grateful that lunatic never goes anywhere unharmed.

I raise my head slightly and fire.

One pack warrior goes down, and I smirk.

Bullets fly over my head, the sound so loud, my heart nearly jumps out of my chest, but I remain pressed to the table, sucking deep breaths before firing at another warrior.

“She’s hiding behind the fucking table.” One of them yells, and I crawl away from the table, only standing when I’m running through Bernard’s secret passageway.

Knowing that this fucking passage isn’t meant for escape but execution, I pick up my pace, not ready to die before I reach the pack boarder.

A dozen synchronized footsteps echo, followed by gunshots and curses, and when I’m finally near the exit, I whirl around, firing at two warriors that’ll most likely catch up to me.

“She mustn’t get away! The pack wants her head!”

I jump when I finally reach the exit. My toes sink into wet dirt as I fall face forward on the ground, and the intense pain I feel is enough to make me give up.

But I won’t.

I’m finally free from Bernard’s grasp. I can’t let it all go to waste. Lowering my back, I tear off a part of the robe, then tie it around my bleeding arm.

“Follow the trail of blood,” someone’s gruff voice makes me panic. Fuck it.

Pressing my arm, I limp behind a large tree, leaning against it when a warrior finally catches up to me.

I bite my lips to avoid making a sound.

He steps on a thin branch, and I gasp when he turns to the tree. He takes slow steps forward, the pistol pointed at the damn tree, and my heartbeat slows. I press my palm to my mouth.

“If you’re here Luna, get out before I make you regret it.”

I suck in a breath. Is this really it? Will I really get dragged back to hell? No! I’d rather let him kill me than get dragged back.

I lift up a leg, then push it until the warrior sees it, and suddenly a loud bang goes off, making the warrior fall to the ground. A deep hole on his head sends a wave of shivers through me.

Eager to get out of here, I shakily grab his gun, but someone grabs me from behind, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other pressing against my mouth.

I elbow him, but it hits something so hard, I wince.

He’s strong.

And he smells different.

“I don’t like it when visitors roam my pack borders,” a thick voice tickles my ears. “Especially when the visitor seems to be a wanted criminal.”

“Mmmm.”

“I heard Ashlore pack is searching for their Luna, and you seem to fit the description."

“Mmmm.”

“And you’re bloodied, soaked with your husband’s blood from head to toe.”

My eyes fly open when he grabs my throat, “why did you do it?” He tightens his grip, slowly lifting me off the ground, and my feet dangle in the air.

Since he isn’t covering my mouth anymore, I rush out. “I…you can’t just call me his Luna because I’m bloodied.”

He turns me to face him, and my stomach instantly knots. He’s still gripping my throat, and I’m finding it hard to breathe with each second that goes by.

“That dead warrior,” he kicks something, perhaps the dead body, “called you Luna some minutes ago. And judging from the fierce flame in your eyes, I can tell you’re Luna Isolde.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’ll have to see for myself,” his lips twitch, forming a smirk that makes my body tense. “How about we wait for the other warriors to return? Even if you’re not the Luna, I'm sure you’re wanted for one crime or the other.”

I stiffen, beads of sweat forming on my forehead. “No….no..wait.”

He tilts his head, “wait?”

I tap his hand around my throat when I can’t breathe anymore, and he releases me. I hit the ground with a soft thud his gaze pins me in place. “If you run,” he taps his own gun. “I don’t mind killing you right here. You’re of no use to me anyway.”

“Then let me go.” I cough, “why do you care if I’m the freaking Luna or not?”

He kneels down beside me and grabs my chin. He’s sucking me in with those eyes again, and I sickly can’t look away.

They’re beautiful and frightening at the same time, and what snaps me back to reality is the tight grip on my chin.

“Fine then, I’ll let you go.” Loud footsteps pound in the distance, and I realize the warriors are almost here. “You won’t get far before a bullet goes into your head.”

Think Isolde, think. He starts to pull away, but I grab his arm. “Help me,” I mumble, lowering my head to stare down at my wounds. “I can’t go far with my body screaming in agony, so please, help me.”

“And why should I help you?”

I tug at my robe. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

And then he laughs, the cold sound cutting through me like a blade. “I don’t want that,” he shakes his head. “I want you to live under my control.”

“As your what?”

“My prisoner. You breathe when I ask you to, speak only when I order you too, and of course,” a dark glint shimmers in his eyes, “serve me until I figure out what to do with you.”

Anger burns through my veins. “You’re a pathetic bastard,” I bark, forcing back the tears that threaten to spill. “I’d rather die than live like a fucking slave again! The fact that I'm at your mercy doesn’t mean you own me.”

“You have three choices,” a cold metal presses against my forehead. “Run or die, stay under me and live under my rules, or convince me you’re worth more alive than dead.”