Forced Mate

23: Fatum Circulo Facit

A/N: Okay guys! We're nearing the end. Just a couple more chapters until it's over. 

            It's New Year's Eve. A weight that settles over me as I come to in that same room. My blindfold is gone now, though, but I'm still bound. Darkness streams in the skylight, so I know the ritual is soon. I'm just not sure how soon. My question is answered when the door bursts open and there stands Yara, flanked by four, bulky Mistletoe wolves. Their eyes glow differently—it's a full moon.

She commands them in her foreign language and they converge on me, untying my binds. I'm only free for a split second before they're pressing my back against the floor, each pinning a limb down. I fight them off as best as I can, but I'm no match for their strength. The powder she used to incapacitate me must have dulled my already weak defenses. 

My eyes meet hers across the room. My mother. The woman who brought me into this world. The woman I once loved with all my heart. But all that love left when she did. All I feel for her now is pure hatred, bolstered by the smirk that rises across her countenance while she glides toward me.

She holds something behind her back, which she reveals beneath the dim light from the skylight. A ceremonial, silver knife—like the one used in inductions. It glints at me and bile rises in my throat at the threatening sight. There's no good reason for her to have it now. 

"The ritual takes place at midnight. That's a couple hours from now. We have to prepare you." Her fingers slide over the sharpened edge before pricking the point with her thumb. "Which includes the carving of the runes."

Carving of the runes. Carving. Carving!

Mayday, mayday, mayday, My mind screams at me as warning bells go off. I start to fight harder against their grip, but I can't quite break free. She begins chanting—it's not Latin, it's something more guttural, more ancient, as she kneels down at the side of me. I'm still wearing the shorts and t-shirt I had on when they found me. She pauses, hums, lifts my sleeve up, and begins drawing the rune into my skin. The pressure of the knife is hard enough to draw gushes of blood, hard enough to scar. 

She continues to chant as she draws and I scream in agony at the fire shooting through my veins. It's takes her about a minute to draw the first one, the puddle beneath my arm warm and sticky as stars sprawl over my eyes.

"Agliz," She murmurs. "Protection." My breath comes out in pants as I try to ground myself to something besides the pain spreading over my skin. Her face appears over mine, eyes glowing purple now as the chanting incited her powers. "Don't worry, darling. One down, thirteen more to go."

Thirteen?

"No," I cry desperately, shaking my head, "please, mommy, don't do this."

"Shh, shh," She hushes me, brushing her hand over the top of my hair. "This is for your benefit. They'll make you stronger, and they'll solidify your bond with Alpha Hayes."

"No!" I cry out as she retreats from me, posed to cut into me another time. "Please! Don't!"

My begging falls on deaf ears as she begins to slice into me again. I writhe against the wood floor as I scream, wet sounds reverberating through the room as my skin slaps the pools of blood beneath me. Blood. Too much blood. I'm dizzy. I'm dying.

By the time she reaches the seventh rune, I can barely see straight. I'm losing too much blood—does she know that? I think she realizes, as she stops her butchering and moves to the other side of the room. There's a counter against the wall, lined with bowls and bottles of what look like herbs, liquids, and so on.