FATED BUT DANGEROUS

THE ANSWER FOR A FOOLISH TYRANT

Chapter Two

Cael's pov

I don’t remember when the world stopped making sense, it became a blur of dirt, hooves, and blood.

The first thing I noticed, after regaining consciousness, was the cold. Not the kind that numbs you gently, but the kind that claws into your skin like jagged glass, making you wish for fire—or death.

Death was not an option.

Chains bit into my wrists, the links rattling with every violent jolt as my body slammed against the ground again and again. My body wasn’t laid on the horse as a prisoner deserving pity.

No.

I was chained by the wrists and ankles, dragged behind the beast like nothing more than a sack of dirt. Every gallop slammed me against the earth, stones cutting into my flesh, gravel grinding into my bones.

The beast galloped, hooves pounding, dragging me through the night as if my bones were nothing but twigs. My skin tore on stones, my face was scraped raw and I felt ribs protest with each brutal impact.

And yet… I felt nothing. Not the pain. Not the tearing of skin. Not the blood soaking into the soil behind me.

The silver still burned in my chest, a fire spreading through my veins, numbing my limbs one heartbeat at a time. My mind screamed at my body to fight, to claw, to rise. Nothing answered. I was trapped inside myself, watching this humiliation, this punishment, through a haze of pain and silence.

The air tore at my lungs. My throat was too dry to scream. All I could do was let the dirt swallow me whole as they dragged me deeper into their world.

I was awake. I was alive. But I was not free.

The gallop slowed. I felt it in the slack of the chains, in the way my body stopped skidding and rolled instead, limp and broken across the dirt. Through the haze, I noticed the flicker of torches, the muffled noise of voices, and the scent of smoke and iron.

We had reached somewhere—some kind of a yard, an open driving ground that smelled of horses, oil, and damp earth. My vision swam, but I could make out the shadow of walls and gates.

By the time the horse stopped, I could smell it—the stench of wolves and iron, of fear and ash. The stronghold of the Alpha. His den. My enemy’s home.

Hands yanked at the chains. My arms wrenched upward, my shoulders screaming in protest, but I didn’t fight. I couldn’t.

They unchained me from the beast only to replace the cold bite of metal with fresh shackles, only to drag me further, my heels carving lines in the soil, my head jerking with each uneven pull.

My body knocked against posts, rocks, and stairs as they hauled me through corridors I couldn’t recognize. Torches lined the path, spitting light into shadows that seemed alive. Laughter rang in my ears, coarse and cruel, but it was distant, like I was underwater.

I wanted to snarl, to shift, to burn it all to the ground with the fury I carried in my chest. But I couldn’t.

Not yet.

We reached a room, dark and filled with the stench of rotten s**t and urine. I could sense people in the room, apart from us but the atmosphere was subdued.

“Bring the wrench here.”,

A voice barked out as the sound of keys clanging reached my ears.

A chuckle burst out from the lips of one of my captors and I was pulled forward.

“Is she the one?” the owner of the first voice spoke, and I paled.

Do they know me? They were looking for me?

“Not sure yet, she fits the description”, another of my captors responded.

“And if she isn't the one, we will have our fun and do away with her”, another replied.

Laughter echoed across the room, and amidst it, I heard the click of a key and the sound of a door swinging open.

Pulling me forward, they threw me into a cell with all the grace one gives to trash. My body flew through the harsh cold air and hit the floor hard, air bursting from my lungs, a groan catching in my throat.

Metal clanged behind me as the door slammed shut, iron bars sealing the dark. The cell reeked of rust, sweat, and despair.

And then there was nothing, the men exiting the room. Just silence. Just me, broken and left to rot.

I waited.

Time passed—minutes, hours, maybe days. I couldn’t tell. Time meant nothing in this place but time was what I needed to slowly start healing.

All I had was the stench of rust and the echo of my own breathing to remind me I hadn’t slipped completely into death.

My body was still numb although coming together, my mind alive but trapped in its own cage. All I could do was wait. Wait for death, for freedom, for whatever fate decided to throw next.

Then, footsteps. Slow. Measured. Purposeful. Coming towards the room. Eventually, the sound of boots echoed across the room and in my cell. My cell door groaned open, and a guard entered, his voice gruff, stripped of sympathy.

“On your feet,” he barked.

I wanted to laugh at the order. On my feet? My body barely belonged to me. Still, he yanked me upright, my shackled limbs dragging, and chained me to a chair bolted into the center of the room. I could smell the rust on the iron, the blood of whoever sat here before me.

“The Alpha wants to see you now,” he sneered before the door clanged shut again.

The alpha? Here? Now? I sought you out for years, and I met you in a vulnerable state.

I heard him leave. And in the silence that followed, I heard the footsteps I’d been dreading.

A few minutes later, I smelled him before I saw him. That familiar scent that soured in my throat like poison, one that I have come to associate with defeat and pain.

And then he stepped inside.

The man I hated with every fiber of my being.

He entered as if the world itself had bent for him. The Alpha. Draven. Veyron.

The man who had destroyed everything I once loved. The man whose name haunted every nightmare, every scar. His presence filled the room like smoke, suffocating, inescapable.

He smiled as if this were a reunion. As if he hadn’t drenched my life in blood and made vengeance my life’s purpose. His eyes glittered like a predator’s in the dark, sharp with amusement and cruelty.

“Well,” he drawled, circling me slowly. “What do we have here? The infamous wolf who refuses to bow. The little rogue who dares to run around causing a ruckus in my pack.”

I stayed silent.

I can't even say anything if I were able to get past this boulder in my throat.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “Tell me, girl. What should I do with you? Kill you here, quick and meaningless? Or give you a chance to become mine, be part of my park, and use your powers for good?”

My jaw tightened, but I gave him nothing. Not a word. Not a glance.

“Do you know how many beg to be in my pack?” he asked, mockery thick in his tone. “To serve me, to bleed for me, to earn a place under my command. And here you are, ungrateful, proud, chained like a mutt that doesn’t know when it’s beaten.”

Still, I gave no reaction.

His steps slowed. I could feel his eyes studying me, weighing me, trying to pierce into my soul. My silence was slowly eating at him.

Good. Burn.

“Stubborn little thing,” he murmured. “I could kill you. I should kill you. But there’s something in you… something that calls to power. You could be useful, if you’d only bend. If you’d only learn your place.”

The chains rattled as I tried shifting in the chair, the only movement my broken body probably would allow. My wolf stirred inside me, thrashing against the silver’s hold, aching to tear him apart. But the bullet silenced her too.

Draven chuckled, low and dark. “Ah. That look in your eyes. Fury. Hatred. Fire. But what good is fire when it’s locked in a cage?”

He waited. For a word. A plea. Anything.

I gave him nothing.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, resuming his pacing in front of me. “You could be dead right now. With a snap of my fingers, I could end your little life before it’s even begun.”

He leaned down, eyes burning into mine. “And yet… I hesitate. Do you know why?”

I didn’t move. I didn’t blink.

“Because wolves like you don’t just happen. Wolves like you are rare. Dangerous. The kind of strength that bends packs to their knees.” His smile thinned. “You could fight beside me. Be part of something greater than yourself. My pack. My rule. My legacy.”

Ah, he heard of me, heard of my powers or the lies of it.

But I do nothing but stare back, seething. He stood before me with that smug smile, like the chains biting into my wrists had already decided my fate. His voice was low, steady, but laced with a venom that coiled around every word.

The stone floor beneath my boots felt cold, but my silence burned hotter than fire.

“I could kill you right here,” he went on, circling me like a vulture. “Drag your body through the mud and make an example of you. But instead, I’m offering you a place at my side. A chance to live. To matter. And what do you give me in return?”

Nothing. I will give you nothing but hell.

The silence grew thick between us, a battle in itself. And I saw it—just for a moment—in his eyes. My silence unnerved him. My refusal to bow, even here, even broken, twisted something inside him that he couldn’t control.

And then… his patience snapped like a brittle bone. A harsh laugh spilled out of him, jagged and cruel. “You think you’re stronger than me because you can sit there and pretend I don’t exist?” He bent closer, his face a mask of fury. “You will not ignore me.”

I almost laughed in his face.

“You think you can ignore me?” he hissed. “You think silence will save you?”

His hand came fast, faster than I could react, striking across my face. The sound echoed in the cell like a gunshot. My head snapped to the side, cheek burning, vision blurring.

For a heartbeat, the world was nothing but ringing silence.