The world had changed around her.
Mia's last memory of the forest was the mist closing in, cold air burning her throat as she screamed. Now, the sounds of the woods were gone. No crickets, no owls, no wind in the leaves. Only silence—and the heavy echo of boots striking stone.
Her body jolted with each step the brown-haired one took as he carried her down the endless corridor. She was too drained to keep thrashing, her limbs trembling from exhaustion, but her chest still heaved with shallow, panicked breaths. Her throat ached from screaming, her palms stung where bark and stone had cut them, and still the tears came hot and unrelenting.
She forced her eyes open.
The fortress swallowed her in darkness and silver light. The walls were carved from black stone that seemed to breathe, faint veins glowing as though blood pumped beneath the surface. Blue flames flickered in sconces, but the fire gave off no heat, no smoke. Shadows shifted unnaturally in the corners of her vision, curling like fingers only to vanish when she turned her head.
It didn't feel like a place built by men. It felt alive. Watching. Waiting.
Her stomach churned violently.
"Where are you taking me?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.
The brown-haired one chuckled against her ear. "Home."
"No," she croaked, fresh panic tightening her throat. "This isn't my home. I don't belong here. I don't—"
"Quiet," the dark-haired one said from the front, his voice a low rumble that filled the hall. He didn't raise his tone. He didn't need to. The command in it struck her harder than any hand could.
Mia bit her lip to silence the sob that rose. Her body trembled harder.
They turned down another corridor. The blond one moved on her right, silent, cold eyes flicking to her face every few steps. He didn't smirk, didn't laugh like the others. He only watched her as if studying her every reaction, every weakness. His presence made her shiver more than the one carrying her.
At last, they stopped before a tall door carved with runes that burned faintly silver. The dark-haired one pressed his hand to it, and the stone rippled like water. With a deep groan, the door split apart. Cold air spilled into the hall, sharp and damp, and Mia's stomach dropped as the brown-haired one carried her inside.
The chamber beyond was vast.
The ceiling arched high into shadow, so far above she couldn't see where it ended. The floor was smooth black stone, etched with circles and symbols that pulsed faintly under her feet. Mist drifted along the edges of the room, curling low, almost like it was alive.
The brown-haired one finally set her down.
Mia's knees buckled at once, her legs too weak to hold her. She collapsed against the cold floor, scrambling backward on her hands until her shoulders hit the wall. Her palms scraped raw against the glowing runes, but she hardly noticed. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, panicked jerks, tears blurring her sight.
"Don't—don't touch me," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please don't hurt me…"
The dark-haired one stepped closer, silver eyes burning. "We won't hurt you."
The words froze her.
She blinked up at him, confusion piercing through the terror. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. Finally, a whisper slipped free. "Then… why?"
No answer.
The blond one tilted his head, gaze slicing into her. "Fear feeds us."
Her breath hitched violently.
The brown-haired one crouched in front of her, a wicked grin tugging his lips. He brushed a strand of hair from her wet cheek, and she flinched so hard it rattled her teeth. "And you, pretty, are overflowing with it."
Mia slapped his hand away, her whole body trembling. "I don't understand!" she cried, her voice cracking with the force of it. "If that's what you want, then why—why haven't you—"
She stopped herself. The words choked in her throat, shame and terror tangling in her chest.
The silence stretched.
Her mind raced in spirals, chasing itself: They hadn't torn at her clothes. They hadn't beaten her. They hadn't touched her in the ways she had feared most. They only watched her, carried her, reveled in her fear. It made no sense. *What do they want from me?*
The blond one's lips curved into the faintest, coldest smile. "You'll know soon."
The dark-haired one gestured toward the wall. Shadows thickened, slithering up the stone until they shaped into iron bars. In the space of a heartbeat, a cell had formed—bars glowing faintly silver where they touched the stone, runes etching themselves into place.
Mia's chest clenched with dread.
The brown-haired one seized her arm, dragging her upright despite her struggles. She kicked and clawed weakly, her voice breaking into sobs. "No! Please, don't—don't lock me in—"
Her words cut off as he shoved her inside. She stumbled forward, catching herself against the cold stone. The door of bars slammed shut, runes flashing once before dimming to a faint glow.
Mia spun, her hands wrapping around the bars. They burned faintly against her skin, and she jerked back with a cry. Her tears blurred her vision as she looked up at them—the three men standing just beyond, their eyes glowing faintly in the mist.
She couldn't name them. She didn't want to. To her, they were only shapes of terror: the dark-haired one with commanding presence, the blond one with his silent cruelty, the brown-haired one with his wicked grin.
Predators.
Her voice cracked. "Why me?"
None of them answered.
The dark-haired one turned first, his coat sweeping against the stone as he strode toward the door. The blond followed, silent as death. The brown-haired one lingered, crouching down until his eyes met hers through the bars. His grin softened into something almost tender, though the hunger in his gaze never dimmed.
"Sleep well, little rabbit," he whispered. "We'll see you in the morning."
Mia's breath shattered.
The door groaned shut behind them, sealing with a thud that echoed through the chamber. The mist pressed in against the bars.
Alone, Mia collapsed against the cold stone, her body shaking violently. She buried her face in her scraped hands, sobs wracking her frame.
They hadn't hurt her. They hadn't taken what she feared most. But they hadn't let her go either.
That was worse.
Because it meant they wanted something else—something she didn't understand. And the not knowing was enough to unravel her completely.
Mate.
The word echoed in her skull, louder than her heartbeat. They had called her that in the forest. They had called her that here. Every time she denied it, they only smirked harder, as though they knew something she didn't.
It didn't make sense. She wasn't theirs. She wasn't anyone's. She was just Mia—a waitress, a girl who barely scraped by, invisible to the world. There was nothing special about her. So why—why call her something like that?
Her sobs broke into soft, panicked gasps as she whispered to the empty chamber.
"They're wrong… they're lying… I can't be… I can't be their mate."
The shadows curled along the walls, silver veins pulsing faintly in the stone as though the fortress itself listened.
But no one answered.