chapter four

Nikolas's pov

It had been months since I arrived at Raventhorn, and in that short time, I had seen things that made no sense.

One time, I walked past a room and saw what looked like a wolf except it wasn't just any wolf. It was massive, its body rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths. I hadn't stopped to look too closely, but the image stayed with me.

Other times, I noticed strange wounds, injuries that didn't seem to come from regular animals. Claw marks too deep, bites too precise.

I kept my head down, focusing on work, but the unease never left me.

Then, one afternoon, just as I finished organizing medical supplies, a group of young men walked into the clinic. They weren't doctors. They carried themselves differently confident, a little reckless, and armed.

"Hunters," Dr. Holloway had called them before.

One of them grinned at me. "Hey, come with us. We're going to get supplies."

I frowned, shutting the cabinet. "Why me?"

"Why not you?" another guy asked, smirking.

I sighed. "I have work to do."

"Come on," the first guy said, nudging me lightly. "Do you really want to stay here all day, or would you rather come with us and have a little fun?"

I hesitated.

The past few months had been exhausting, confusing. Maybe getting out for a bit wouldn't be the worst thing.

"Fine," I muttered, grabbing my jacket.

The hunters exchanged amused glances before leading me out.

We spent the afternoon gathering supplies medical boxes, food packs, bandages, things I barely paid attention to because the hunters never stopped talking. They joked, laughed, teased each other like old friends. I stayed quiet, only speaking when necessary.

On our way back, one of them suggested stopping for drinks.

"Come on, loosen up a little," one of them said, nudging me.

I shook my head immediately. "No, I don't drink."

"A little won't hurt," another grinned.

"I said no."

"Fine, fine," the first one waved his hand, calling over to the bartender. "Get him something soft. Coconut water or whatever."

They handed me a bottle, and I took it reluctantly, sipping slowly while they continued talking mostly about women and wild stories from their hunts. I rolled my eyes at some of their ridiculous comments but kept quiet, watching them and wondering how they lived so carelessly in this strange, guarded place.

On our way back, everything shifted.

As soon as we approached Raventhorn, we saw it the big gates were crowded with people. Shouts echoed in the air, bodies pressed against the barriers. There was chaos and excitement, voices calling out.

"They caught a big one!"

"Look at the size of him!"

"He almost got away!"

I felt my stomach twist.

The hunters rushed forward to get a better look, and despite myself, I followed, curiosity pulling me closer.

That's when I saw him.

A massive man, taller and broader than anyone I had ever seen, was being dragged. his body rippling with restrained power despite the heavy chains wrapped around him. His arms were bound behind his back, metal cuffs digging into his wrists. More chains looped around his chest and ankles, locking him down like some kind of wild beast. His clothes were torn, blood staining the fabric, and yet, he still looked… undefeated.

Even with his knees slightly bent, as if the drugs were weighing him down, he held himself with an unnatural strength.

The men surrounding him struggled to keep him under control. Some held the chains, some had weapons aimed at him, but none of them looked relaxed. They knew he wasn't truly captured.

His eyes were wild, dark and dangerous.

Then he paused.

He sniffed the air like a predator catching a scent, and his eyes locked onto mine.

The noise faded. Everything else disappeared.

He stared at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Something in his gaze softened just slightly. His shoulders eased, almost like he was surrendering. The chains snapped tighter around him, but he didn't fight them anymore.

He just kept looking at me.

Then, the corner of his mouth lifted in a slow, knowing smirk.

And I couldn't explain why but it felt like that look was meant only for me.

And despite the chains, despite the drugs in his system, despite the fact that he was a prisoner here—

He looked at me like he was the one in control.

The smirk on his lips sent a strange chill down my spine. It wasn't cocky or amused it was knowing.

Like he had expected me.

The hunters pulled at the chains, forcing him to move forward, but his eyes never left me. Even as his body swayed slightly from the drugs, even as they tightened their grip on him, he stood tall unshaken.

"Move it," one of the men barked, yanking hard.

The captive finally shifted, his lips parting just enough for me to see sharp canines. A low, rough chuckle escaped him, almost drowned by the noise of the crowd.

And then, just before they dragged him past the gates, he spoke.

"Mine."

It was one word. A whisper. But I felt it everywhere.

Like a claim. A promise. A warning.

The breath I hadn't realized I was holding finally escaped, but my chest felt tight. The moment passed, and the hunters pushed him forward, disappearing beyond the second set of gates.

"Who the hell was that?" I asked, voice lower than I intended.

One of the hunters beside me let out a whistle. "That? That's the biggest catch we've had in months. He tore through half the squad before we finally brought him down. Took more tranquilizers than I've ever seen used on a single beast."

Beast.

That word again.

I swallowed. "What… is he?"

The hunter grinned at me, like I had just asked something stupid. "You'll find out soon enough, nurse boy. Welcome to Raventhorn."

The hunter's words lingered in my mind long after we walked through the gates.

Welcome to Raventhorn.

As if this was normal. As if I hadn't just seen a man or something close to one bound in chains, his body wrecked with wounds, yet still smirking like he had the upper hand.

And then there was that word.

"Mine."

I shook my head, pushing the thought aside as we unloaded the supplies. The hunters continued talking, laughing, making crude jokes about their 'catch.' I barely listened. My mind was stuck on what I had just witnessed.

The marks I had seen on the injured patients. The whispers about beasts. The way my uncle had said I'd be working with animals.

This place… it wasn't just a clinic.

I was treating something more than just injured men.

That thought followed me through the rest of the evening, through dinner, through the exhaustion settling into my bones.

By the time I got back to my quarters, I felt drained.

I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the small shower, letting the cold water run down my skin. The night air outside was thick, humid, pressing against the walls. I let my forehead rest against the tiled wall, breathing slowly.

This place was going to drive me insane.

After drying off, I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

I told myself I wouldn't think about him.

The man with the chains. The smirk. The way he had looked at me, as if he recognized something in me that I didn't understand.

But the moment I closed my eyes, I saw nothing else.