Nathan's POV
I was chained like a criminal, my two wrists bound together as we journeyed to the Brainstorm Pack, which was a one-hour trek through the dense forest.
Derrick and his beta rode on horses, while the soldiers and I walked on foot. The only difference was that I wasn't just walking, I was being dragged like a disobedient dog. My feet stumbling over the ground. The guards on either side of me had no patience for my sluggish pace, their rough hands yanking me forward each time I lagged behind.
My stomach clenched painfully from hunger, my throat dry and raw. I hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours, and my body was beginning to shut down. Every muscle screamed in protest, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me.
I tried to take another step, but the world tilted violently. A wave of dizziness crashed over me, and before I could stop myself, my legs gave out.
I collapsed onto the ground, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My vision flickered, the sounds around me fading into a dull hum.
The marching stopped.
Silence settled over the warriors, thick with tension.
I barely registered the sound of hooves approaching before a pair of heavy boots landed in front of me.
A strong hand gripped my chin, forcing my head up. My blurred vision cleared just enough for me to see Derrick crouching in front of me, his green eyes dark with irritation and impatience.
"If you collapse one more time," he murmured, his voice deceptively calm, "I'll fuck you right here."
The words were like ice water thrown over my skin.
"Right in front of all my warriors," he continued, tilting his head as if considering the idea. "I believe they'd enjoy the entertainment. Don't you think?"
I shuddered, my breath hitching.
The look in his eyes told me he was more than capable of doing it.
Derrick's fingers dug into my jaw before he suddenly let go, shoving my face away as if I disgusted him. He rose to his feet without another glance at me, turning on his heel and mounting his horse with ease.
"Get him up," he ordered lazily, his voice full of command.
Rough hands grabbed me from both sides, yanking me to my feet. My legs barely held me, but I knew better than to collapse again.
I had no choice but to keep moving.
Even if I felt like dying.
As we reached the border of the Brainstorm Pack, the sight before me was almost overwhelming. A large crowd had gathered, pack members standing in neat rows, their expressions full of admiration and pride as they awaited their Alpha's return. Banners waved in the air, warriors stood tall, and the scent of burning torches mixed with the evening breeze. The entire scene reeked of victory—Derrick's victory.
The moment his horse stepped past the threshold, a deafening cheer erupted from the crowd. Warriors pounded their fists against their chests in salute, while others howled in celebration.
But my eyes fell on a lady.
A woman dressed in flowing royal attire, her dress a deep shade of red, clung to her figure in a way that accentuated her power and elegance. Golden embroidery laced the fabric, shimmering under the flickering torchlight. She stood at the center of the crowd, while two women dressed as maids stood beside her.
Without hesitation, she moved forward, her gown trailing behind her as she made her way directly to Derrick. The moment she reached him, he dismounted effortlessly, landing with practiced ease.
Then, unexpectedly, she threw her arms around him, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was nothing short of possessive.
The crowd cheered louder.
I watched as Derrick kissed her back, his hands gripping her waist firmly as he deepened the kiss. There was no hesitation, no reluctance. It was clear that she belonged to him, and he to her.
His woman?
His wife, perhaps.
The realization settled in my stomach like a stone.
When she finally pulled away, her fingers traced the sharp lines of his jaw before she turned her gaze toward me.
Her expression darkened instantly. She furrowed her brow and glared as though my mere presence offended her. "Who is that?" she asked, sounding irritated by the sight of me.
Derrick barely spared me a glance before returning his attention to her. "My prisoner," he stated firmly and began walking away from her.
Her glare lingered on me, filled with hate.
Like I was filth beneath her feet.
Like I had no right to exist in her presence.
Then, just as coldly as she had regarded me, she turned on her heel and followed Derrick.
"Move!" the warriors barked, shoving me forward.
As I walked past them, I felt their eyes settle on me.
Some held pure hatred.
Some were blank.
Some—curious.
And a few… looked at me with something far more disturbing. Lust.
I lowered my gaze, keeping my eyes on the ground as they led me away.
After a short walk, we arrived before a massive black gate, and instantly, I knew this was the pack house.
The warriors shoved me inside. The moment we crossed the threshold, my brow furrowed.
The interior was grand, far more luxurious than I had expected. Ornate walls, lavish rugs, towering ceilings—it felt more like a palace than a pack house.
But I didn't have time to take in my surroundings.
"Keep moving," one of the guards snapped, shoving me forward.
I stumbled but forced my feet to keep up.
We walked past long hallways, turning corners, descending stairs, deeper and deeper into the belly of the pack house. The air grew colder, the scent of damp stone filling my nostrils. I already knew where they were taking me.
The dungeons.
The moment we reached the bottom of the final staircase, I was yanked roughly toward a row of iron-barred cells. The dim light from the bulbs barely illuminated the space, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
A guard unlocked one of the cells, the rusted hinges groaning in protest.
Unexpectedly, I was shoved inside. My body hit the cold stone floor hard, pain jolting through me.
"Welcome to your new home, prisoner," one of the warriors sneered, slamming the cell door shut behind me.