Mates of a Werewolf Hunter

Chapter 16 Blades of Regret

Valentine Winters P.O.V

He moved toward me, unlocking the chains that had kept me prisoner. I barely had time to react before he flung me onto the bed. His presence loomed over me, suffocating and menacing, as he pressed a sharp blade to my neck, daring me to resist. My breath caught in my throat, my entire body frozen in terror.

The cold steel of the blade trailed down my shirt, sending a surge of fear straight to my core. Every nerve in my body was screaming, the icy metal against my skin a brutal reminder of how helpless I was. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately hoping this was all just a nightmare.

"Don't," I whispered, my voice trembling with fear.

He ignored my plea, raising the blade just below my chest, letting it glide down to my stomach. The sharpness of it left a burning sensation in its wake, the pain almost too much to bear.

"What do you want?" I managed to whisper; my voice barely audible. But before I could utter another word, a soft slap landed on my face.

"Did I permit you to speak?" he hissed.

"What do you want?" I whispered again, my voice shaky, a single tear slipping down my cheek.

"You humiliated me." he snarled, his voice a twisted mix of anger and something else—hurt. "I saved you, and this is how you repay me?"

I couldn't find the words to respond, my mind too clouded with fear and pain.

"What's done is done." he said coldly, his eyes boring into mine. "Do you know what this blade is made of?"

I shook my head, too terrified to speak.

"It's made of silver. The pain," he paused, savoring the moment, "unimaginable."

"Please don't." I begged, my voice breaking.

"I thought you might say that." he smirked, and before I could react, he brought the blade down, slicing into my skin.

I winced as the blade cut through my stomach, the searing pain leaving me breathless. Blood pooled around the wound, the agony unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

"Stop." I pleaded, my voice cracking.

"Please." I sobbed, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

He continued carving into my flesh and when he finally finished, he wiped the blood off the blade with a sickening calmness, using my shirt as his cloth.

"A free tattoo." he sneered.

I couldn't see what he had written, but the pain, the raw, burning pain, was etched into my memory.

"Can't see?" he asked, his voice laced with sadistic satisfaction.

He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture, and shoved it in my face. The words "Dirty bitch" were scrawled in my blood. Tears streamed down my face as I took in the horror of what he had done.

He shoved me toward the bathroom. "Pathetic. It'll heal in time. Tell your dad you won't be coming home." he ordered before slamming the door behind me.

Lucifer Argent's P.O.V

She punched me in front of everyone, a fragile girl against a predator like me—especially a werewolf. Where did this sudden courage come from? Was it when I showed her a sliver of kindness? But kindness is a weakness, and I am anything but weak. I felt no remorse for what I did to her. The pain I inflicted was necessary, and I felt every bit of it.

I will break her. I will make her fear me so deeply that she'll never dare to seek help again. She will learn that defiance comes with a price.

Valentine Winters P.O.V

I messaged my dad, fabricating a story about staying at a friend's house for school assessments. I felt sick to my stomach. I had just lied to him.

"Sit there in the corner." he commanded, his voice void of any emotion.

I obeyed, moving to the corner and sitting down, the pain from my stomach throbbing with every movement.

"If I catch you sleeping, you'll be severely punished," he threatened.

I nodded, too scared to respond.

I fought to stay awake, but my eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion from the day's events weighing down on me. His soft snores filled the room, indicating he had finally fallen asleep.

I tried to keep my eyes open, fighting against the pull of sleep. But eventually, I lost the battle, and sleep claimed me.

I woke with icy cold water splashing over me, drenching me to the bone.

"Stubborn." he remarked, his voice filled with disdain.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, shivering from the cold and the fear.

"Be prepared when I return," he said, his tone ominous before he shut the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts.