Chapter 6 Trapped

Mira

They came for me the next morning.

No warning. No knock.

Just the cold slam of a black SUV door outside and the clipped footsteps of men who didn't belong in daylight.

I was pouring cereal into a chipped bowl when my stepmother called out, casual as always.

"They're here."

That was it.

No goodbye.

No good luck.

No "we'll miss you".

Just those two words – the same tone she used when Lee's garage truck arrived.

I stood frozen for a moment, fingers still clutching the box, milk halfway poured, my stomach twisting around itself like it wanted to scream.

I didn't ask questions. What would have been the point?

The terms were already set. I wasn't Mira anymore; I was a transaction. A service. A signature on a folded sheet of paper.

I grabbed my backpack-still packed from school-and walked out the door like a girl heading to war.

Because that's what it felt like.

Isn't that something anyone noticed?

Not that anyone stopped me.

Sia was on the couch painting her nails. My father was in the garage, pretending to fix something that didn't need fixing.

And my stepmother? She watched from the kitchen window with a wine glass in her hand.

Two men stood by the SUV. Both tall, dressed in black, their eyes hidden behind dark glasses, even though the sun hadn't fully risen. One of them opened the back door and gestured.

No words.

I climbed in.

The door slammed shut behind me, and with it, the last of my old life vanished.

The car ride was silent.

No one spoke.

No music.

Just the low hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel under tyres.

I tried to track where we were going at first, but the road twisted strangely, doubling back and narrowing. Soon, pine trees swallowed the world out the window.

It was like driving a dream - or nightmare. I couldn't tell the difference anymore.

Every few miles, I'd look down. The mark was quiet again, like it had retreated beneath my skin.

Maybe I was afraid.

I know I was.

We drove for hours. At some point, the road disappeared completely, replaced by a dirt path winding through a thick forest. Mist clung to the trunks of ancient trees, their branches reaching over the car like arms.

And then we stopped.

The driver stepped out. Walked to the stone gate with glowing silver runes carved into it. He pressed his palm to one of the symbols.

The runes flared to life.

The gates creaked open slowly, like they hadn't moved in centuries.

We entered the Dramen territory.

The air changed instantly.

Thick. Sharper. Alive.

I could feel something hum against my skin - like the whole forest was watching.

The manor appeared in the distance, half-hidden by tall evergreens and morning fog.

It was massive. Dark stone and glass twisted together into a structure that looked both ancient and too modern for the world. Like someone had taken a castle and carved it into steel.

I felt small just looking at it.

Like prey.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the entrance. Two wolves stood guard. Not men. Wolves. Massive, grey-black creatures with glowing eyes and no emotion.

My door opened.

I stepped out. Legs trembling beneath me.

Another man waited by the doors-older, pale, wearing a long charcoal coat. How eyes swept over me like I was something disappointing.

"You'll be housed in the west wing," he said, voice clipped. "Until further notice, you are not to leave the property. If you attempt to run, our tracker will find you. You understand?"

I nodded.

He turned without waiting and walked through the grand doors.

I followed, numb.

The inside of the manor was colder than the forest outside. Polished marble floors, long corridors lined with mirrors and moonstone sconces. Every step I took echoed. I didn't see anyone else - no servant, no wolf, no guest, just silence and stone.

He led me down a hallway and opened a heavy door.

The room was ...beautiful.

Soft grey walls. A velvet canopy bed. A fireplace, unlit. Thick curtains drawn slightly shut.

It should have felt luxurious.

But it felt like a cage.

"I'll send someone with your uniform," the man said. "The Alpha will call for you when he sees fit."

Then he left, locking the door behind him.

I stood in the centre of the room, unsure of what to do.

I didn't cry.

There was no one left to cry to.

Instead, I moved to the window and yanked the curtain open.

The view showed a part of the forest - dark and endless. But far in the distance I could make out the training ground. Wolves sparingly in humanoid forms, grunting, growling, and shifting.

And him.

Evan Draven.

Standing on a raised platform shirtless, commanding a group with nothing but a gesture.

He looked like he belonged to the shadows.

And the shadows obeyed.

He didn't see me.

But I saw him.

And something inside me - deep and ancient, buried beneath trauma and fear - stirred.

Something that whispered.

He's not just watching; he's waiting.