Vincent groaned in pain as he was chained to the silver chair. He forgot how many times they had pressed the hot metal against his skin since he was abducted. There was no slowing down for his captors to torture him for information. Every three hours, they would chain him to the chair and the interrogation would begin again. The more they tortured him, the harder he kept his mouth shut. Now, Vincent understood why Mira was adamant about these people—why she told him to not chase after them.
He stopped his motorbike and kicked the kickstand before he hopped off. It had been four months since he saw her. This time, she decided to meet him regarding an important matter. Vincent headed to Room 12 of the motel and knocked on the door. After three knocks, the door opened, revealing Mira in just a white bathrobe. He spotted a few bruises and cuts on her face. Mira gestured for him to enter and he did.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, unzipping his jacket to take it off. “What happened to you?”
“Rough night,” Mira grunted.
He saw her left thigh was heavily bandaged. Never saw her in this terrible condition. Why would she need to bandage her thigh? She had a very fast healing speed. It should have healed by now. Mira could heal in a matter of minutes. Even one broken bone could heal in an hour with her healing speed. That was how fast her healing as a demon wolf.
“Vincent, I want you to remember this crest,” Mira showed a silver crest to him.
He stared at the crest for a moment before he looked back up at her, looking puzzled why she wanted him to remember the crest.
“Just remember how it looked like. There are people who wear this crest and they aren’t someone we wanted to mess up with.”
She turned around. “You don’t need to know their names. As long as you see this crest on them, turn to other direction, go as far as fast as you can.”
“If I don’t?”
“Then, I wouldn’t know where to find you.”
“Mira, I can’t just—”
“Vincent, just trust me on this one. If they get a hold on you, there is no escaping. I wouldn’t be able to find you.”
Vincent stared at his own thigh. He knew what was on her left thigh. It was the same burnt mark he had right now. Mira was captured by these people once. How did she manage to escape? Did they let her go? They couldn’t have let her go just like that. He had spent hours looking at the door of his jail cell as he forced himself to figure out its weaknesses.
He spat blood to the floor, “You wouldn’t get anything from me. I can assure you, no matter what you’d do to me, you get nothing from me.”
A masked man stepped into the light, “I don’t have to,” he said with a smile. He made a beeline towards Vincent’s back and placed his cold hands on his temples. “Imagine the world where you would be able to be with your mate, Kelsie, and just lived happily. No war. No suffering. Just a pure love and happiness.”
Vincent’s eyes shut involuntarily. He felt like he was being sucked from the world and entered somewhere else. By the time he opened his eyes, he was in a bed with a pair of deep caramel eyes blinked attentively at him.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” She smiled, scooting closer to his body.
“Kelsie?” he mumbled in disbelief. “How did—”
Vincent shot up right on the bed and hugged her tightly. Her scent smelled like strawberry just like how he remembered it. His heart was yearning for her.
“Whoa, honey, are you okay?” she pulled away, looking at him curiously. “Why are you looked shocked seeing me?”
“No, I’m just—” he paused.
He was shocked. How did this happen? Fuck, he cursed. Was this for real? Was Kelsie really in front of him?
“Vincent,” Kelsie leaned in closer, “What are you thinking?”
Vincent looked between her eyes and her tempting red lips. As much as he loved to be with her again, this world was nothing but the back of his mind. He got up from the bed, shaking his head. There was no way this could be happening to him. Sure, Mira was resurrected. But his Kelsie? No, he buried her ten years ago. She was gone along with his parents. He cradled her lifeless body on that night. He buried her by his own hands. This world was a fake. His Kelsie was long dead.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Vincent said sadly. “I love you, baby, but you’re not real.”
He punched the mirror on the wall and Kelsie screamed in horror before he used the broken shard and stabbed his own thigh with it.
Vincent screamed, looking at the ceiling before the spell was broken and he was returned to reality. His thigh bled once more as if he stabbed himself for real. Vincent was mad at these people for using his dead mate to get information.
“Impressive,” the man complimented him. “Many didn’t manage to pull away from that.”
Vincent chuckled. “You had the wrong man to interrogate and manipulate.”
Another man came in and stood next to the one in front of Vincent. He was whispering something that Vincent couldn’t really catch any words. It seemed like they weren’t speaking English.
“Ah, it seemed like we don’t need you and your friend anymore.” He said, clasping his hands in a happy manner.
Then, Vincent realized. They found Adeline. They were going to attack Cohen’s pack to get her for whatever they wanted from her.
“Move them out. Make sure their bodies would be found.” He instructed the second guy. “Thank you for your unwilling participation, Vincent Hale. Fortunately, you and your friend don’t have to go through this session anymore. Unfortunately, your time is limited. We’re moving now.”
They chained Vincent with a separate chain with a blue light was lingering around it before they put a sack over his head. He was forced to walk despite his legs were in bad condition. Vincent tried to focus on catching anything of his surroundings—smells or sounds of something but he got nothing. He was thrown into a van and bumped into someone and made the person to grunt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the other guy was Brandon.
This wasn’t how he expected his life to end.