Page 9 of The Alpha King's Curse: Part Two

But how was she supposed to trust a man who had openly admitted that he had intended to kill her instead of taking her to her sister?

“Sorry, my head is all over the place right now. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Is that what it is?” Dylan said with a sigh as he walked back to switch the light on. It seemed he had something to say about that, too, but he had chosen not to question her further. “Watch your feet. You aren’t wearing any shoes.”

Instead of heading to the door across the room where the garage was, he turned to his left. She saw another door, and this one had a lock on the outside. Dylan pulled some keys out of his pocket and then went through several before he found the right one. The door was metal and rusty, and it opened with a loud squeak.

Even with her improved vision, she could barely see what was in the room. Dylan didn’t move away from the doorway to allow her inside.

“I’m sorry,” Dylan whispered. “All of this is my fault. People are dead because of me.”

“No. This one is all on me,” she answered with a sigh.

“I knew what the risks were. I knew this was going to happen,” Dylan said as he turned to face her. “And I knew he’d get angry and possibly kill me. I did it anyway because I thought... I didn’t realise he had become that strongly attached to you.”

“So attached to me, he’s thrown me into a dungeon.”

“Believe it or not, this isn’t our dungeon,” Dylan said. He turned back to the room and put the light on. “He should have killed both of us, but you stopped him. The only way that would be possible is if you’re... But that doesn’t make sense.”

He said that as if he was speaking to himself. What was he going to say?

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Dylan sighed and walked into the room. It was a long, dusty room with a small table and chair beside the door. Along one wall were four doors, also locked from the outside.

“I’ll clean this up for you and bring fresh bedding and food,” Dylan said without answering her question.

“You don’t have to do that. That’s what I do for a living; I can handle it. I’m sure many people need your help right now.”

He walked to the furthest door and unlocked it. The light switch was outside the room, meaning they could make her sit in the dark all day if they wanted to. The room had no windows, and the only furniture was a narrow cot along one wall. The toilet was on the opposite side, and a sink was next to it, but there was no shower. It was how she imagined a jail cell to look like, and she couldn’t imagine how much worse their actual dungeon looked.

“It’s the least I can do, Layla. And Jackson sent you here, but I’m sure he’ll still go crazy if you’re not cared for.”

“Why are you so sure about that?”

Dylan stopped talking and met her gaze.

“You know you’ve been talking to me about things I’m not supposed to know since we got down here. What’s one more thing?” she pointed out.

“I’m not sure what’s happening yet,” Dylan answered, “but once I find out, I’m not sure I can tell you about it. I’ll go and get—”

Dylan stopped mid-sentence as they all did when they did their telepathy thing.

“I have to go. I have to make sure the kids are okay for the night,” he said as he turned away.

“Wait. The kids that made it inside the house... Are they okay?”

Dylan turned back to her with a thoughtful look. Had she done something wrong? Was she not supposed to know anything at all about what had happened?

“I’ve not really had a chance to speak to them because we have too many injured, but they are being looked after,” he answered before finally walking out of the room.

The metal door creaked as it shut, and then the sound of the lock echoed in the small space. Moments later, another key being turned echoed. She was left in the middle of the room with nothing but her thoughts. The very thoughts she had been trying to escape from that had been hidden under the shock and guilt of what had happened. And what she had done.

She looked down at her hands. Though it had been hours since she had showered, she could still see the blood dripping from her fingers. She could still feel echoes of her anger as she had used her hands to do something she’d never imagined she would do. Something that had made her scared of Jackson when she realised it was his nature.

How could she live with herself now, even if she somehow left this place? She would never be whole again.

When those thoughts threatened to push her over the edge again, she took a deep breath and focused on the room. She would keep busy somehow, even if she had to clean over and over again. It was a temporary fix. Like putting a plaster on an infected wound. She would have to think about everything eventually. She would have to decide what she would do with her life.

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