CLAIMED BY THE ENEMY

Chapter 2: Tethered in Pain

I woke up with a start, the cold stone beneath me pulling me back to reality. My throat was raw, my muscles sore from the battle, and every nerve in my body screamed in agony. My hands were shackled to the wall, the chains tight, pulling at my wrists. I gasped, trying to steady myself, but the room was spinning. The scent of damp earth and wet stone filled the air, the faint scent of the wolf—Ryker—lingering like an unwanted shadow.

My heart pounded as I tried to move, but a sharp pain stabbed through my chest, forcing me to gasp for breath. The spell. The bond. The chains. I remembered them all in a flash, but none of it made sense.

"Dammit," I muttered under my breath, struggling against the shackles. The pain came again, like a thousand needles threading through my veins, and I gritted my teeth, trying not to cry out.

The chains rattled as I fought, pulling me back against the wall, my body screaming for mercy. I didn’t know how much longer I could stand this. My thoughts were clouded, rage filling my chest. I was a hunter—an assassin. I didn’t belong here, imprisoned by the very Alpha I had been sent to kill.

A door creaked open. The sound sent a chill down my spine, and I knew before I even looked up that it was him. Ryker Duskbane. The Alpha. My captor.

He stepped into the dim light, his figure cutting a tall, imposing silhouette. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. "You're awake," he said, his voice low, almost… soft.

I stared at him, fury boiling inside me. "Let me out, Ryker," I growled. "You’ll regret this."

Ryker’s lips curled into a half-smile. "I don't think you understand just how bad things are for both of us right now, Nina." He stepped closer, but I barely reacted, too consumed by my own rage and confusion.

"I don't care about your games," I spat. "You captured me, and you’ll pay for it. I was trained to kill you, and I will."

His eyes flashed, a dangerous glint in them. "You don’t get it, do you? You can’t harm me."

My heart skipped. "What the hell are you talking about?" My voice trembled with the uncertainty I tried so hard to suppress.

He was standing too close now, his scent filling the air. A strange pull—something magnetic, something undeniable—slithered beneath my skin. The air between us felt thick, and charged, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

"You’re my fated mate," Ryker said, the words leaving his lips like an impossible revelation. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "You and I are bound by an ancient spell. If you try to hurt me, you’ll feel it, Nina. All of it."

I blinked, trying to process his words. The pain flared in my chest again, but this time it wasn’t just physical. It was deeper like something inside me was being pulled, stretched, twisted, and then crushed.

"What the hell do you mean, ‘fated mate’?" I spat, barely able to form the words through the pain that surged through me. "You’re insane."

"Believe me, I wish I were," Ryker said, his tone now somber. "But this—" He gestured between us, "—this is real. I didn't ask for this either. Neither of us did."

I shook my head, not wanting to believe him. My world was collapsing around me, and he was the one who was standing at the center of it. "I don’t care about your damn fate," I snarled, my voice trembling with rage. "I was raised to kill you. To kill every wolf like you. You think I’ll just accept this?"

He stepped back slightly, his expression shifting from frustration to something more… understanding. "I don’t expect you to just accept it. But we have to figure this out. We don’t have a choice."

"Yes, we do." My voice was raw as I fought against the shackles, desperate to break free from the chains and from him. "You’re nothing but a monster. You and your pack. I’ll destroy you all."

The pain flared again, sharper this time, tearing through my chest like wildfire. I gasped, my vision blurring. I could feel the bond between us, and it felt like a curse. Every time I wished harm upon him, it was as if the universe punished me. My limbs trembled, and I couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down my face. It wasn’t just physical anymore. This was something far worse.

Ryker moved closer again, his gaze softening, but his posture remained tense. "I didn’t do this to you, Nina," he said, his voice tight. "I don’t know how or why, but I’m not your enemy."

I laughed bitterly, trying to ignore the emotional ache in my chest. "You’re everything I’ve been trained to hate. You’re a monster. And now… now we’re bound by this… spell?" I scoffed. "How do I know this isn’t just another trick? Some way to make me doubt myself?"

"I don’t want you to doubt yourself," Ryker said, his voice so gentle, so unlike anything I’d ever expected from him. "I want you to see the truth. I didn’t ask for this either, but it’s happening. And you’re not alone in it."

The room felt smaller with every passing second. I couldn’t escape this pull, this bond, no matter how hard I tried to push against it. My body screamed for release, but I knew I couldn’t act on the rage that consumed me. Not without paying the price.

"Let me go," I whispered, my voice barely audible now, hoarse from the effort of fighting the bond.

"I can’t," Ryker said quietly, looking away. "I wish I could."

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. The weight of the prophecy, of the lies I’d been told, of my shattered sense of self. I didn’t know who I was anymore, and the only thing that was clear was that I was trapped. Trapped in this nightmare with him, this man who was both my enemy and my—no. I refused to think about it.

A long silence stretched between us, and just as I thought I might lose my mind, Ryker spoke again. "I’ll leave you alone for tonight. But tomorrow… we’ll talk. And maybe then, we’ll figure out what the hell we’re supposed to do."

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just sat there, my body trembling as the weight of his words settled in my bones.

He turned, walking to the door. "Stay here. You’re safe for now," he said over his shoulder.

I heard the door close with a resounding thud, but the silence that followed didn’t bring relief. My heart was still racing, my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and anger.

And then, just as I thought I was finally alone, a soft rustling came from the corner of the room. I froze, my eyes snapping open. There, in the shadows, a figure was standing, barely visible in the dim light. I couldn’t make out their face, but the presence was unmistakable—foreboding, like a storm on the horizon.

And then, a voice—low and guttural—whispered through the air: "The prophecy cannot be stopped."

I gasped, my blood running cold.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice trembling.

The figure stepped forward, just enough for me to see the glint of something sharp in their hand.

And then the whisper came again, louder this time, more urgent: "You are part of it, Nina. Whether you like it or not."