CHAINED FATE

ASTRID

My eyes fluttered open, the world around me slowly coming into focus. I blinked, disoriented, as a dull ache throbbed through my body. Cold air brushed against my skin, and I shivered involuntarily. It took me a moment to realize that my wrists were bound above my head, and my arms stretched out painfully as I hung from a massive tree. Panic surged through me as I tried to move, only to feel the sharp, burning sting of silver against my skin.

I gasped, my breath hitching as I looked down at the chains that held me. They were thick, heavy, and shined in the dim light. The silver cut into my wrists, preventing me from accessing my wolf. The familiar warmth of my wolf's presence was distant, muffled.

"No," I whispered, struggling against the chains. The more I pulled, the tighter they seemed to grow, biting into my flesh and sending agony through my body. I winced, biting my lip to stifle a scream as I looked around, trying to make sense of where I was.

The forest surrounding me was dense, the trees towering above. The weeds were thick, and the ground was littered with fallen leaves and broken branches. The air was filled with the scent of damp earth and decay,

I was alone—or so I thought.

A rough voice broke through the silence, dripping with malice. "Look who's awake."

I turned my head, my heart hammering in my chest as I saw them—five men standing in a semi-circle around me. Their face looked like they had met with severe hunger; their clothes were tattered and dirty, and their hair was matted and unkempt. The stench of sweat and blood clung to them, making my stomach churn.

"Rogues," I muttered, fear tightening its grip around my heart. They were the worst kind of wolves—exiled from their packs, living on the fringes of society, preying on the weak and vulnerable. I knew what they could do, which sent a chill down my spine.

The man who had spoken stepped forward, a cruel smile twisting his lips. He was tall and lean, with a gaunt face and hollow cheeks. His eyes were cold and calculating, and he looked at me like I was meat on a butcher's slab.

"Go on, scream all you want," he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. "No one's going to hear you out here."

I swallowed hard; my throat dry as I tried to stay calm. "Please, let me go," I pleaded, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound firm. "I haven't done anything to you."

Another man laughed, a harsh, guttural sound that grated against my ears. He was shorter and stockier, with a thick neck and arms covered in scars. His teeth were yellowed and jagged, and his breath reeked as he leaned in closer to me.

"Begging already?" he mocked, his eyes narrowing as he reached out to tug at the tattered remains of my shirt. The fabric was torn, stained with blood, and hung limply from my body. "You think that's going to help you?"

Tears stung my eyes as I yanked myself away from his touch, but the chains held me in place. "Please," I whispered again, my voice breaking. "Don't do this."

The man's smile widened, revealing more of his rotting teeth. "What's the matter, princess? You scared?" He glanced at the others, who chuckled darkly, enjoying my torment. "Go on, scream some more. No one's coming for you."

"Please," I cried, echoing through the trees. The forest swallowed my words, leaving only the mocking laughter of the rogues. I strained against the chains again, desperate to free myself, but it was no use. The silver burned my skin, and the pain was excruciating.

"Leave her to struggle," the leader said, waving a hand dismissively. "She'll tire herself out eventually."

The others nodded in agreement; their expressions twisted with satisfaction as they watched me writhe in pain. The night crept in, the temperature dropped, and I shivered, my body weak and trembling from the cold and the agony of the chains.

I slumped against the tree, my strength waning as the hours dragged on. The rogues moved about lazily, setting up a makeshift camp around me. They built a small fire, the flames casting shadows across their faces as they ate, laughed, and ignored my suffering.

My stomach growled painfully, the sound echoing loudly in the silence. I hadn't eaten since… I couldn't even remember when. I was so hungry it hurt, but I knew better than to ask for food. They wouldn't give me anything—if anything, they'd take pleasure in my suffering.

One of the men, a lanky rogue with greasy hair and a leering grin, caught the sound of my stomach and sauntered over to me. He held a piece of beef in his hand, waving it under my nose as if taunting a starving animal.

"Hungry?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Here, have a bite." He brought the meat closer to my lips, and for a moment, my instincts kicked in, my mouth watering at the sight of food. But as I opened my mouth, he pulled it away, laughing cruelly.

"Did you think I'd give you any?" he jeered, shoving the meat into his mouth and chewing loudly, the juices dripping down his chin.

I turned my head away, closing my eyes to block out the sight, but the tears that had been threatening my tear ducts finally spilt over. Hot, angry tears of frustration, fear, and hopelessness. I had never felt so powerless, so utterly defeated. My thoughts drifted to Magnus, and my heart ached with a longing I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge until now.

I thought of his eyes, the way they softened sometimes whenever he looked at me. The way he had saved me from my parents, only to bring me to his pack where I thought I'd find peace… But had I? Or was I always meant to suffer?

Why did I leave the pack? Why didn't I stay where I was safe?

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts, but they came rushing in like a flood. I missed him. I missed Magnus with a desperation that clawed at my chest, making breathing hard. I wanted him here. I wanted him to save me again.

The men continued their cruel games, oblivious to my inner turmoil. Another rogue approached me, this one even more repulsive than the last. His face was covered in scars, and his nose was crooked as if it had been broken too many times to count. He grinned at me, revealing a set of filthy, uneven teeth.

"Let's have a little fun, shall we?" he drawled, his voice thick with malice. He reached out, his hand groping at my chest, fingers digging into my skin.

"No," I whimpered, twisting away as much as I could. But the chains held me fast, and he only laughed at my futile attempts to escape.

"Come on, princess, don't be shy," he mocked, his breath hot and rancid against my face as he leaned closer. I gagged at the stench, trying to pull away, but he was relentless. His hand slid down to my waist, his touch repulsive and cold.

"Back off," another rogue snarled, stepping forward and shoving him away from me. The force of the push sent the man stumbling back, and he glared at his companion, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"What's your problem?" the scarred rogue snapped, baring his teeth.

"Touch her again, and I'll gut you," the other rogue growled, his voice low and menacing.

The scarred man hesitated, his eyes flicking between me and the other rogue, before he let out a derisive snort and backed off, muttering under his breath. He spat on the ground, shooting me a hateful glare before retreating to the fire.

The rogue who had intervened lingered longer, his gaze shifting to me. His eyes showed no kindness, only a cold, calculated look. He turned away without a word, rejoining the others as if nothing had happened.

I was left hanging there, my body trembling, the cold seeping into my bones. The men continued to eat, their laughter grating on my ears. They smelled of sweat, blood, and filth, the stench growing stronger as the night deepened. Their faces were gaunt, their hair greasy and matted. Each one seemed more monstrous than the last, their features twisted by cruelty and years of living as outcasts.

My head began to swim, the edges of my vision blurring as exhaustion set in. My stomach growled again, but I no longer had the strength to care. I was too tired, too weak, too broken. The pain from the silver chains was unrelenting,

As the night wore on, my thoughts grew hazy, my mind drifting in and out of consciousness. The voices of the rogues faded into the background; then everything turned black.