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My mother warned me about men like Ceth Shawcross before. Men, charming men, that are far more dangerous than they appear. Men I don't need to be directly threatened by to know not to cross them. He knows who I am, he knows what I am. I've spent my entire life hiding from people like him. It would be foolish not to listen to him.

"Please," he says. "Sit."

I do, begrudgingly taking the chair next to his and folding my hands in my lap as he strolls behind me. If he wanted me dead, I would be. I swallow the fear I feel in my throat, staring straight forward. "Where... are we?"

He grabs a goblet from his place setting and pours himself a glass of wine from a crystal decanter. "All of your questions will be answered soon, love." Three platters piled high with food appear when he waves his hand. Those green eyes glitter as he takes his seat, swirling the red liquid around his glass. "Eat."

The smell of herbs and hot spices wafts towards me and I can't deny that the sight of food makes my stomach howl. If he wanted me dead, I would be, I remind myself. Ceth's eyes track my movements as I load myself a plate. I choose against the wine. I need to keep my wits about me if I'm ever going to get out of this place. When I swallow a bite, he grins. With a snap, two servants magically appeared to serve him a plate.

I watch in awe as they pile his food high, top off his wine, and bow before a phantom mist takes them back into oblivion again. I've never seen anything like it. "Where are we?" I ask again.

He stifles a laugh and gives me a saccharin smile that seems to be his signature. "Persistent, aren't you?" his eyes remain focused on me. "Do you know where you are?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I did."

He clasps his hands in front of him, looking clearly amused. "We're not in the mortal realms anymore. Far away from where they found you in Bayport. So I'll ask again. Do you know where you are?" Mortal Realms? I feel my stomach knot, but he ignores the sharpness of my look.

He already knows I have no idea where the hell we are. He's dangling information in front of me. Baiting me. "Where is my family?"

He smiles wickedly, a private joke I'm not in on, and rests his chin on his knuckles. "Do you know why you're here, Brenna?"

I think back to what one of the soldiers said: "She's pure."

"No," I lie instead.

"Do you know what I am?" Werewolf. Pure-blooded- I can tell just from the gleam in his eye. But he's something else too. "My family has ruled Vervale and the northernmost mortal realms for over seven centuries now. I rule every pack, every rogue commune like your family's." His head swells with pride, but my brain searches for any possible explanation. "Do you know what I am?" There's only one answer. He leans forward, his wicked grin baring two razor sharp canines. "You know," he whispers. Dread settles in the bottom of my stomach. "There are only five others like me."

Everything falls into place: The soldiers who'd come for us. They weren't just looking to kill us. They were looking for pure-bloodlines. Which means that alphas, betas- things I only heard about in stories my mother told me as a child- they're real. So, what does that make me? I don't ask the question. I still have no idea why I'm here or where my family is. Are they even alive?

The cathedral doors slam open, and I nearly spill out of my seat. Ceth swiftly stands as ten men file in, dragging a single man by his arms. I don't miss a second, grabbing one of the sharp dinner knives and tucking it safely in my sleeve.

"I won't tell you anything! I'll never tell you where they are!!" the man cries. Even from this distance, I can smell blood pouring from his wounds. Ceth beckons me forward, blocking my view of the poor mutt. I catch a glimpse of the commander that escorted me here, and it only confirms my suspicions: He's Ceth's right-hand man. "My lord." He awaits orders with his arms behind his back.

Ceth ignores him, looking at me. "I'll have Moira escort you to the infirmary in the morning. But, if you'll excuse me... I have to retire for the evening." His green eyes dance over me, and he places a kiss on the back of my hand before leaving.

My jaw hangs slack as I watch the soldiers drag the wolf across the hall, blood trailing behind him. The table cleans itself, and Moira and the guards appear from the shadows to lead the way back. I pause at the staircase, my eyes lingering on the bloodshed. Tortured howls echo off the walls just moments later. The soldiers grip my arms, dragging me forward. Darkness has already settled outside and more candles light my room when we step inside.

"Breakfast will be served around eight. Call for me if you need anything else," Moira curtsies.

"Wait!" I step in front of her, and her eyes go wide. "What are they doing to him??"

She disappears before I can object. The door locks. The guards breathe heavily outside my door and the hum of snowfall outside my window washes over me. I sink to the ground in defeat.

I'm a prisoner. I'm alone. I'm more confused than ever. And even as I plug my ears, there's no escaping the screams as they echo off the castle walls.

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