Chapter 5

• Ayla
• The guard had an iron grip on my hands. I tried to release myself but each tug a fresh wave of panic. “Let me go! What is this? Who are you people?” My voice echoed in the dark chamber, swallowed by the shadows that clung to the walls. The sharp smell of blood invaded my nostrils, the air was thick and musky and it made the hairs on my neck stand.
• I strained against the guards' grip and thrashed wildly. My heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped animal in a cage. The flickering torchlight danced across their faces – hard, unyielding, and utterly foreign. Their clothes were made of roughspun fabric and leather, their expressions were filled with suspicion and something akin to reverence. Reverence for him.
• My gaze locked onto the figure emerging from the darkness at the far end of the room.
• He’s the Alpha.
• Even in the dim light, he radiated power, a raw, untamed energy that sent a shiver down my spine. His presence was a physical thing, heavy and oppressive. He was tall, impossibly broad, with a face carved from granite. Short, almost buzz cut black hair framed a jawline that could cut glass, and his eyes… his eyes were burning, burning with an intensity that seemed to see right through me.
• A low growl rumbled from his chest, a sound that vibrated in the very air. “Let her go.”
• The guards froze, their eyes widening in shock. They exchanged nervous glances, clearly hesitant to disobey. But the authority in his voice was undeniable. Hesitantly, they loosened their grip, and I stumbled forward, rubbing the raw skin of my wrists.
• “Leave us,” he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous purr.
• The guards practically tripped over themselves in their haste to obey, melting back into the shadows. Even Captain Eli, a man who looked like he could wrestle a bear and win, hesitated, his brow furrowed with concern, before finally bowing his head and retreating.
• I was alone with him.
• The silence was deafening, broken only by the crackling of the torches and the frantic thumping of my own heart. He moved then, slowly, deliberately, like a predator stalking its prey. Each step brought him closer, filling the space between us with a palpable tension.
• He stopped directly in front of me, his nearness stealing my breath. He was even more imposing up close, a wall of muscle and raw male energy. An involuntary whimper escaped my lips.
• He reached out, his hand large and calloused, and clamped it onto my chin, tilting my head back so I was forced to look up at him. My breath caught in my throat. He was… beautiful. In a savage, dangerous way. His rugged clothing – thick trousers tucked into high leather boots, a tunic that strained against his chest – only accentuated his primal appeal. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden, suffocating silence.
• “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice rough, like gravel grinding against stone. “And where do you come from?”
• It took me a moment to find my voice, to remember who I was, where I was supposed to be. “My… my name is Ayla Zane,” I stammered, the words sounding alien in this strange, medieval setting. “And I’m from… New York City.”
• He stared at me, his eyes narrowed, unreadable. Then, he rolled his eyes, a gesture of utter disdain. He released my chin, stepping back as if I disgusted him.
• “Enough of your riddles. Which kingdom do you serve?” he barked, his voice laced with impatience. “Do you think to play me for a fool?”
• “No! I… I don’t know what you mean,” I protested, desperately trying to make him understand. “Look, New York City… It's a city. A real city. With… with technology. Cars, skyscrapers, the internet…”
• My voice trailed off as I saw the fury building in his eyes. He took a step towards me, and I flinched, instinctively drawing back. My heart was beating out of my chest.
• “Enough!” he roared, his voice shaking the very stones around us. The torches flickered violently, casting grotesque shadows that danced across the walls. “I have heard enough of your lies and your ridiculous stories. You think I am so stupid ?”
• He turned abruptly, stalking towards a dark corner of the room. A whimper, a choked sob, echoed from the shadows. My stomach lurched.
• He grabbed something, something heavy and unyielding, and dragged it into the light. It was a man, bound to a rough wooden table, his face bruised and swollen, his clothes torn and stained with blood.
• “This is another spy,” Alpha Rex said, his voice low and deadly. “He has been telling me similar tales filled with lies. He refuses to confess the truth. But here he is, ready to say anything and everything.”
• He gestured towards the tortured man with a dismissive wave of his hand. “This is your future, Ayla Zane. Unless you start confessing who sent you, and why you are here.”
• My blood ran cold. I stared at the battered, broken man, his eyes pleading with me for help, for release. I looked back at Alpha Rex, his face a mask of implacable fury. He was serious. He would do this to me.
• Fear, raw and primal, consumed me. This wasn't a game. This wasn't some bizarre dream. This was real. And I was trapped.
• “I… I’m not a spy!” I cried, my voice trembling. “I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I just… I just woke up here!”
• But the words felt hollow, useless against the weight of his suspicion, against the overwhelming power that radiated from him. He didn't believe me. And I knew, with a sickening certainty, that unless I could somehow convince him of the truth, I was doomed.
• The smell of fear, my own fear, filled the air. The wild, musky scent that had initially made me uneasy now seemed ominous, predatory. I was in the heart of the wolf's den, and I had no idea how to escape.