Page 55 of My Fated Mate

The urge to run, to put as much distance between me and Thorne as possible, is almost primal.

But I know better.

Every attempt I've made to escape has been thwarted—the guarded perimeter, the watchful wolves, even the dense forest that seems to twist in on itself, disorienting and confusing.

Frustration bubbles up inside me, hot and bitter.

I hate this. I hate feeling trapped, vulnerable, like a pawn in some game I don't understand.

As I walk, I can't help but notice the way some of the pack members stare at me. Their gazes are a mixture of curiosity, suspicion, and something that feels suspiciously like hostility.

A young female wolf with fur the color of burnished copper walks past me, her nose held high.

"Well, well," she snickers. "Looks like the Alpha's little wolf isn't too happy."

I don't respond. I don't have the energy for their petty taunts.

Further down the path, a hulking male with broad shoulders and fur the color of storm clouds blocks my way.

"Lost, little wolf?" he growls, his voice low and menacing.

I glare at him, my back stiffening.

"No," Trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Just looking for some fresh air."

He leans in closer, his hot breath washing over my face. "Word of advice. Don't get too comfortable here. You're not one of us."

My jaw clenches angrily.

"Actually," I say, "I'm not here by choice. So maybe you should take your advice and shove it."

He growls again, but before he can say anything else, a sharp bark pierces the air. Shadow materializes at my side, his obsidian fur bristling, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

The male wolf backs away, his eyes flickering nervously between me and Shadow.

"Fine," he mutters, stepping aside. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

I continue walking, Shadow padding silently by my side. The encounter leaves a sour taste in my mouth, a reminder of the uneasy truce I exist in with this pack.

Disoriented, it takes me a while to find my room, unfamiliar with the layout of the den. Finally, I spot the small wooden door tucked away in a secluded corner.

Relief washes over me as I push the door open. This small space, with its simple bed and a window overlooking the forest, is the only place in this entire pack that feels vaguely familiar.

I collapse onto the bed, exhaustion finally catching up to me.

But even here, with the thin walls offering little to no privacy, I can't seem to escape the feeling of Thorne's presence. It lingers in the air, a constant reminder of his betrayal and the impossible situation I find myself in.

Tears prick my eyes. I clench my fists, willing them back. Crying won't solve anything. I need to get out of here.

But how?

I haven't slept, the image of Thorne's pleading face and the absurdity of his words – "you're the key" – replaying on a loop in my mind.

The sound of a soft knock at the door makes me jump.

"Elowen?" Thorne’s voice comes through, low and hesitant.

I don't answer. What is he even doing here?

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