Stolen Fate: Bound to Seven Alphas

ERIC

The belt buckle sliced through the air before striking.

Crack.

Leather tore across my back hard enough to send me pitching forward onto the cold wooden floorboards.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but I swallowed it back violently, biting down on my tongue hard enough to taste blood.

"You worthless, wolfless piece of shit!"

"Get up!"

My father’s voice thundered through the dim cabin.

I scrambled upright immediately, breathing raggedly while my entire body trembled uncontrollably.

Moonlight spilled weakly through the dirty cabin windows, pale against walls stained with years of smoke and dampness.

The room reeked of whiskey, blood, and wolfsbane. My father’s preferred combination whenever he decided punishment was necessary.

He stood across from me, broad shoulders blocking half the light. The belt hung loosely from one hand now, fresh blood smeared across the silver buckle.

Mine.

"Your brother shifted when he was only eight," he seethed. "So why the hell can’t you do the same? Not even the most basic thing?"

Fear crawled instantly up my throat. My chest tightened painfully as I stared at him.

My jaw trembled. I tried to answer. My mouth opened but no words came out.

"Answer me!" he barked.

"I tried," I whimpered weakly, exhaustion and pain finally crushing down on my small body after hours of punishment.

Wrong answer.

The buckle came down again. This time it struck my shoulder.

White-hot pain exploded through me instantly.

"You think trying matters on a battlefield?" he roared. "Weak wolves don’t survive because they try!"

Another strike landed.

My knees slammed hard against the floorboards, skin scraping painfully against the rough wood.

I bit down hard against another scream clawing its way up my throat.

No crying. Crying only made things worse. Father hated weakness. I wasn’t allowed to cry.

Suddenly, his hand clamped around my jaw and forced my face upward.

"You feel it, don’t you?" His voice dropped into something far more dangerous. "The rage."

I shook my head immediately. "No."

His palm cracked violently across my cheek.

My ears rang. Tears spilled profusely down my face while my vision blurred at the edges.

Then Father’s hand wrapped around my throat. I wheezed, clawing frantically at his wrist as he choked me.

"I’ll ask again," he growled. "Did you feel it?"

I had. I always did.

Something burning beneath my skin. Something alive. Something terrifying.

His grip tightened painfully.

"You keep resisting the wolf," he said, "and eventually it’ll tear its way out of you."

Then he shoved me backward hard enough that the back of my skull slammed against the wooden floor.

Stars burst violently across my vision. The ringing in my ears intensified. Darkness crept at the edges of my sight while Father’s voice faded into the distance.

Part of me welcomed it. But the darkness never came.

Instead—Something inside me snapped.

Not emotionally. Physically.

A sickening crack tore through my body.

Pain exploded everywhere at once. I screamed.

My fingers curled against the floorboards as claws ripped through skin and nails. Bones twisted beneath flesh. Ribs breaking.

My spine arched so intensely that agony completely consumed my vision.

"No..." I groaned.

Father didn’t move. Didn’t help. He simply watched me struggling with my wolf.

"Good," he muttered.

I heard fur tearing through skin. Heard my own growls strangling themselves beneath my screams.

Then—

Silence. Not around me. Inside me. The pain disappeared. And something else replaced it.

Hunger. I slowly lifted my head. Everything was sharpened. I could hear my father breathing. Smell the sweat beneath his skin.

Hear the rapid pounding of his heartbeat. Fear. He was afraid. Afraid of me. A darkness I couldn’t control unfurled inside my chest at that realization.

My father smiled. "There you are," he whispered.

The wolf surged as scent flooded my nose. Blood. My claws sank into flesh. A roar exploded through the cabin.

Then another. Screams. Begging. Pleas—

"Well done, son. Your first kill." My father’s voice echoed proudly through the chaos. "Now you’re a true wolf."

—

My eyes snapped open.

I lurched upright with a sharp gasp, chest heaving violently. Cold sweat soaked through my shirt.

My hand shot to my throat as I looked around wildly with wide, unfocused eyes.

Darkness. Cold stone walls. Silver bars. The suffocating stench of wolfsbane.

The Hollow Vault. Right.

That was where I was.

"One... two... three... four..." The voice dragged me from my thoughts.

I looked around the darkness, trying to locate him, but the shadows swallowed everything.

Still, I recognized the voice in an Instant.

"Four nightmares now?" he asked mockingly.

I swallowed hard and refused to answer. My hands trembled as I looked down at them.

Human. I was still human. Though faint claw marks had already begun splitting through the tips of my fingers.

"Ugh," the voice groaned dramatically. "Honestly, I’d gladly take your nightmares over what I’m dealing with right now."

I’d take anything over those nightmares. Anything over seeing my father’s face every single time I closed my eyes.

Anything over reliving that torture again and again just to prove I deserved the Callahan name.

I shoved a hand roughly through my hair before dragging my fingers down my face.

"I hate when you go quiet," the voice spoke again from somewhere in the darkness.

"What do you want?" I grunted, glaring toward the dim light fixed high on the wall.

A scoff echoed back. "I should be asking you that."

I didn’t want to hear him. My thoughts were still tangled from the nightmare.

I didn’t even know how long I’d been trapped down here or when Headmaster Alaric intended to release me.

Though honestly, I wasn’t stupid enough to expect freedom anytime soon.

"I was enjoying the silence," he continued lazily, "until you started screaming like some kidnapped princess and ruined my peace."

Heat crept instantly into my cheeks.

Damn it.

"And if you’re wondering how many times you screamed, don’t worry. I counted—"

"Shut up," I cut in.

A low chuckle rumbled through the darkness, carrying easily into my cell.

Ignoring him, I pushed myself to my feet. Only for the chains around my ankles to yank me back down.

"Silver," I muttered through a grimace as the metal burned against my skin.

I tried standing again. The pain only worsened. Eventually, I stopped fighting it altogether.

There was no point.

Drawing my legs closer to myself, I rested my head back against the cold wall and started counting silently in my head while waiting for release.

At the same time, my thoughts drifted toward Elyse. I wondered if she was okay.

"Why are you here anyway?"

"Can’t you just leave me alone?" I grunted, irritation sharpening my voice.

"If you answer my questions," he replied lazily.

"I’m not obligated to."

"I’m not obligated to leave you alone either."

My teeth clenched tightly.

"Oh," he continued in a high-pitched voice. "Is little Callahan angry?"

"Shut the fuck up, Woods," I sneered.

"Or what?" he challenged casually. "You’ll shut me up yourself?"

That’s right.

My fists tightened instinctively as violent images flashed through my mind.

Driving my fist repeatedly into his face. Feeling bone crack beneath my knuckles. Watching blood spill.

The thought alone made something dark twist pleasantly inside me. The idiot snickered again, dragging me from the fantasy.

"So you really fought your friends over some girl who’s apparently slept with half the academy."

If he already knew, then why the hell was he asking me questions?

And more importantly, who even spread this crap to him?

I thought gossip barely survived in a place like the Hollow Vault.

"And apparently," Woods continued with obvious amusement, "the whore is your mate. Your best friends’ mate too."

He burst into loud laughter like he’d delivered the funniest joke imaginable. I wanted to hit him so badly.

But that could wait.

It wasn’t like he was lying anyway. Everything he said had happened. And the reason I was trapped down here was because of that fight.

Sure, Lance and Kol received punishment too butI was the one thrown into the Hollow Vault.

A dungeon built for criminals. Killers. People with minds dangerous enough to break others.

A place specifically designed to destroy whatever sanity remained in you.

Why?

Because Headmaster Alaric believed this place would suppress the bloodlust inside me.

The violent part that still wanted to rip Kol and Lance’s hearts straight from their chests.

The part that wanted to watch them choke on their final breaths before leaving their bodies out in the fields for vultures to tear apart.

But this confinement wasn’t helping. Not even close. Those thoughts were still there. Hungry. Waiting. And sooner or later, I was going to act on them.

Of course I would. I couldn’t share Elyse. I never would.

"Stop thinking so loudly..."

"Stop trying to crawl into my fucking head," I snapped.

But he ignored me.

Something brushed against my mind again. Like invisible fingers digging through dirt searching for buried secrets.

I winced sharply, teeth grinding together. "I said stop trying to fucking read me!"

"Is she really worth all this trouble?" he finally asked.