TRAPPED
1110 Words
Mira's pov
I woke to fire under my skin, a heat that should have meant strength, power, but instead only brought fear. My wolf shifted inside me, coiling and restless, testing invisible chains I couldn’t break.
I pressed my palms to the sheets, teeth clenched, whispering to myself, trying to stay upright, stay steady. The pain throbbed in my ribs and limbs, dull and insistent, gnawing at me.
I tried to move, but my body refused. Every muscle felt heavy, sluggish, as if I had waded through water for days without rest. I swallowed and tasted copper at the back of my throat, the metallic hint of the poison still lingering. My vision blurred, and the wolf snapped quietly in my mind, impatient, angry. I told her to wait, to stay calm, but she growled low and unrelenting, every instinct screaming.
“Focus,” I whispered, barely audible, brushing trembling fingers over my arms, over the taut skin, the prickling sensation that made me want to scream. I inhaled slowly, counting in my head, one, two, three, hoping to tether myself to the world, to control. My wolf lashed silently at the restraint, testing the edges of her cage, trying to remind me of what was mine, what I had lost.
The room felt smaller than it should, walls pressing inward, shadows stretching and bending at the corners. My heartbeat thumped erratically in my ears, a drum I couldn’t slow, couldn’t sync with thought. I noticed the moonlight catching on the polished surfaces, the faint smell of rain drifting in from the balcony, the distant hum of the city far below. Alone. Completely alone. Weak and trapped inside a body that refused to obey.
I slid to the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress shift beneath me. Pain flared in my shoulder, burning down my arm, reminding me my wolf was alive, restless, restrained by something unseen, by poison that had seeped into every vein. I wanted to scream, to call for someone, anyone, but my voice caught, thick and ragged. I swallowed again, tasting iron and fear.
Why now? My mind whirred, fragments of thought spinning. Why poison me, why restrain my wolf? Someone wanted control, wanted me fragile, obedient, predictable. My wolf clawed at the edges of my mind, pacing, testing the limits of what I could withstand. Each wave of pain made me grit my teeth, forcing myself to breathe, forcing myself to endure.
I pressed a hand to my stomach, nausea curling through me in slow waves. I felt fragile, brittle, small, and hated myself for it, hated that I could not summon the strength I knew should be mine. I closed my eyes, picturing Nyx, drawing a flicker of courage from our bond. “I need you,” I whispered into the dim room, fingers brushing the rough weave of the blanket. Her presence throbbed faintly, hesitant but real. Enough to hold me upright, for now.
A sound made me freeze. A door creaked softly, deliberate, deliberate enough to make my pulse leap. I couldn’t see anyone yet, but the presence was sharp, invasive. My wolf snarled silently, urging me to react. I pressed back against the headboard, nails digging into my palms, trying to vanish, to make myself smaller, less noticeable, though I had no idea if it mattered.
Heat spiked again, rolling over my skin, making me gasp and shiver at the same time. I focused on small things to anchor myself: the tick of a clock, the rough texture of the blanket, the air brushing my cheek, the faint murmur of traffic far below. Every detail tethered me to reality, to control, even as fear threatened to unravel it.
A shadow moved in the corner of my vision, elongated and slow. I swallowed, dry throat scraping against my own panic, tasting ash and copper. Limbs heavy, I forced myself to stand, gripping the dresser, letting the wolf coil inside me, restrained, every muscle tensed. Its frustration mirrored mine, a dull ache that threaded through my bones.
Step by step, I forced myself forward. Fingers brushed the wall, rough and grounding. My ragged breathing filled my ears, the intruder’s presence measured, deliberate. I realized then that I wasn’t just trapped by the poison I was being watched, every movement recorded, every falter noted.
I reached the center of the room. Pain radiated with each movement, hot and dull together. I was acutely aware of my heartbeat, every shiver, every muscle tensing. And yet, I moved forward, refusing to let the poison or suppression win completely. Nyx flickered faintly in my mind, whispering that power was still mine, trapped but alive.
Then I felt it, a hand pressing lightly on my back. Not hard, just enough to remind me of their presence. My wolf snapped, restrained but alert, and I froze, heart hammering, breath caught. Every instinct screamed to fight, to vanish, to disappear. My body trembled as fire crawled beneath the surface.
I realized then: I was not just weak. I was being hunted. Every step, every shiver, every suppressed action was observed. I swallowed, tasting metal, fear, and determination all at once. I would not fall. Not here. Not now.
The shadow shifted closer, deliberate, patient, cruel. I pressed harder against the dresser, feeling its rough wood beneath my palm, the fire beneath my skin, the wolf coiled, restrained but alive. Chest tight, stomach roiling, mind sharp. I would endure. I would survive.
Movement again. I sensed it this time, subtle, a shift of air and weight, a scrape across the floor that should not have been. I forced myself to remain still, wolf snapping quietly in my head, desperate. The figure was patient, testing me, letting me feel the weakness they had forced into me.
I pressed my back to the wall now, tiny micro-movements to keep upright. Fingers tingled with pressure. Fire burned hotter under my skin. And I whispered, almost to myself, “I am still here, still me, and you will not take this.”
The shadow hesitated, silent, waiting. And I realized with a sick twist in my chest: it wasn’t just here to see me weakened. It was here to see me exposed.
My wolf hissed quietly, restrained but furious, and I felt a new surge, not of strength, but of awareness. Every step I had taken, every breath, every beat of my heart had been noticed. And yet, I was still standing.
I could feel their eyes on me, cold and calculating, and I knew one thing with terrifying clarity:
I was trapped.
I was being tested.
And the next move would decide everything.
- Writer
