Kiara

'Dududu-dadada, dududu-dadada,' the chorus, with a snap of fingers to tune it, accompained me as the guard dragged me forward. I groaned in disapproval, but the guard's grip tightened around my arm instead, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my body, causing my frustration to increase tenfold.

I know you are thinking about it, and yes, I also hate it when someone sings when they are dragging me around like that. It makes me feel helpless and adds insult to injury. The melody of the chorus only serves to mock my difficulty in freeing myself from his grasp, deepening my sense of powerlessness in the situation.

The guard, baring his terribly stained yellow teeth in an unplesant laugh, said over his shoulder, "If you don't like the song, I can sing another verse or two." I cringed at the thought of enduring more of his off-key singing, but I knew arguing would only make the situation worse. "You don't like that idea, princess; you can suggest a song then." He winked.

I rolled my eyes at him and cussed under my breath. That was not even a song to begin with. Just gibberish. I decided to play along and suggested a popular ballad that I hoped would at least be more tolerable than his previous attempt. "How about 'Hallelujah' by Leonard Cohen?" I suggested, hoping he would agree and spare me from any more of his dreadful singing.

He didn't say a word, nor did he sing what I had suggested. Better, it seems like he doesn't know the song for sure. I smiled for finally succeeding in bringing hin into staying silent.

Reaching the end of the hallway, the guard, whose name I had come to remember as John, left my hand. He stood, holding the balcony, to see if the workers were still held hostage.

Fool. I muttered and helped myself get rid of the gag. He would have at least tied my hands together if he had wanted to have me in this hopeless situation for a little longer.

“Where the hell did everyone go?“ He asked no one in particular, his eyeballs potruded in shock as if about to pop out of their sockets.

“Benna did try to warn you. Get the hell out of there, remember?“ I said, rolling my fingers in the air. "Does it ring a bell?" I grinned at him, my hands folded across my chest.

“Kiara,” he said, shocked when he saw the gag come out of my mouth. “You better tie that back or else,” he growled. To hell with him! How can I tie the gag over my mouth?

“Or else what? Why don't we say that you've lost again?" I stressed the last word in mockery while simultaneously rolling my eyes.

He clenched his fists, his face turning red with anger. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" He spat, his voice filled with venom. I smirked at him, knowing that I had gotten under his skin once again.

"What else am I if not clever? Have you forgotten that I am the daughter of my mother?" I raised my brow at him and tilted my head sideways.

He let out a frustrated growl and took a step closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, how could I forget? As the prodigy daughter of the great and mighty mother," he spat. I could see the fire in his eyes as he continued to challenge me.

I remained calm and composed, refusing to let his words affect me. "It seems like you are forgetting something, John," I said in a British accent, just like the way my mother used to do it, and I paused. "My cleverness is a constant reminder of your own shortcomings," I replied coolly, maintaining eye contact. His frustration only fueled my determination to outwit him once again.

He moved swiftly, gripped my neck, and squeezed it. Stars filled the balcony area as I blinked rapidly, trying to take his hands off me. The pressure on my neck increased, causing my vision to blur.

"Oh, how quick do things change? Isn't this the daughter of the mother? Why is she struggling? Why isn't she fighting? As far as I can remember, her mother was a rebel; she always fought and had never lost once in her life. What's wrong with her fruit, or is it simply not hers? Oh, I get. The seed that bore this fruit must have belonged to someone weak, doesn't it? He mocked me in my mother's bristish accent.

“Let go, John,” I begged, but his grip tightened. He laughed like a maniac, making it obvious that he was enjoying the agony I was going through at the moment. What a sadist! I thought.

“You didn't just call me a loser a second ago, Kiara. Right?“ His eyes glowed with anger, switching from the bristish accent to his own.

I smirked, knowing that the word loser had such a deep effect on him. Whatever the past, he held on to it for that word. It's none of my business, though.

“Let…go…of…me… if…you…don't…want…to be….a…loser,” Uncoherent words slipped out of my mouth, my neck begging for a release.

I could feel my lungs aching and contracting painfully due to a lack of air. My heart kept on thumping wildly, as if telling me if I'd let that grip remain on me for another minute, I'd die.

“Do something, Kiara.“ My wolf urged me from the back of my head. The adrenaline surged through my veins, fueling my determination. I mustered all the strength I had left and fought against the suffocating grip, desperately trying to break free.

“Take back your word, Kiara. Say that I am not a loser." John continued to tighten his grip, lifting me upward until I hung in the air.

This is it; I am going to take back my word. I thought when wheezing sounds started escaping my nostrils. I needed oxygen, and I wasn't going to lie.

Before I could take back my words, an idea stroked across my head. I smirked at him.

"Take back your words, Kiara," he said through gritted teeth, pausing through each word as if wanting the sentence to sink deep into my brain.

I did what he didn't expect me to do. I spat on his face, then lifted my leg and kicked him in between his legs. He let go of my neck and winced in pain while grabbing his lower region.

Since I wasn't expecting him to let go of me that quickly, I fell to the ground, my head hitting against the wall.

“That hurt, Kiara.“ He winced, bending his back as if afraid that if he stood, his balls would come rolling down the ground.

“As if I am not hurting.“ I rolled my eyes, smirked, and kicked him on the knees. He lost his balance and fell with a thud.

“You surely underestimated me, loser.“ I gripped his neck and forced him to look at my face before spatting in his eyes. "Don't ever forget that I am the daughter of that rebel who never lost and that her fruit is never weak, got it?" My voice dropped to a low, menacing tone. I released my grip on his neck and watched as he struggled to catch his breath, a mix of fear and pain evident in his eyes.

“You'll regret this, I swear.“ He growled, earning another kick in the groan from me. He rolled on the cold ground like a year-old protesting for candy, a tear finally slipping out of his eye.

I stood over him, my expression unyielding. "Regret is a luxury you won't have," I said coldly. "Remember this moment when you think of crossing paths with me again." With that, I turned and started walking away, leaving him defeated and broken on the ground.

"You can play brave any way you want, Kiara, but mark my words, I'll come back to you and make you experience the hell you have never experienced. Forget the hell Alpha Benna made you go through, because mine will be worse." His words made me stop, a smirk playing on my lips.

I glanced back at him with a flicker of amusement in my eyes. "Oh, I look forward to it," I replied, my voice dripping with confidence. "But just remember, I've survived worse than anything you could ever throw at me." With a smirk, I turned my back on him once more, knowing that his empty threats would never deter me.

My eyes started scanning around, looking for anything that would help me confine him. Now that I had gotten him, there was no way I would leave him free once again. He had made it clear that our fight wasn't going to stop until one of us accepted defeat.

That brought me into thinking, though. Although John was here to abduct me under Alpha Benna's order, I had a feeling that the anger he had for me was personal. That had nothing to do with Alpa Benna. Whatever the grudge he held against me, it's not like we were once friends and I betrayed him!

An idea stuck in my head. I took advantage of the fact that his legs had gone weak and he wouldn't be standing anytime soon. I walked back to him and hit him in the back of the head with his pistol.

I had no idea that he had one. It clanged on the ground from his back pocket when he bent his back in pain.

“You made my work easier, dimwit.“ I spat on his face as he passed out in the same minute.

I dashed back to my room and grabbed one of the window curtains, which I used to tie his legs and hands to just in case he woke up and overpowered me again.

When I was satisfied that the knot was as tight as fuck, I ran downstairs to see what was happening.

To my shock, neither Miss Olivia nor the other workers were on their knees. They were all busy cleaning the place and throwing the broken things away, with Miss Olivia keeping an eye on them.

“Lift that vase; there is dust, and make sure that you don't cut yourself since it's broken at the end. Oh my god, I told you to be careful, didn't I?” She was talking to a tall, slim guy when I approached her.

“Go over the sink and run cold water over that wound, now before I bandage you up,” she said, holding him by the hand and directing him to the sink.

After she was satisfied that the guy's wound was properly cleaned, she reached for the dressing kit on the upper cabinet, iodined, and bandaged his wound. Luckily, it was a small cut." I watched as she sighed in relief. What a keeper she was! I smiled.

“Go get some rest; the other's will take from where you left." She waved her hand to dismiss the guy when he tried going back into cleaning the vase.

He opened his mouth, probably wanting to convince Miss Olivia that he was okay and he could continue with his work, but the glare Miss Olivia gave him made him take off his apron and head to the servant quarters.

I wonder why, where the workers slept, it was called servants quarters. Those were no servant quaters, given how comfy they were.

Each worker had a separate room that contained everything. From entertainment electronic devices to small kitchens in case they weren't satisfied with what they were given at the main house,

Or maybe all servant quaters look like that, and it's only the one in Alpha Benna's pack that tainted my way of looking at them.

There were always no beds. Just an empty room full of dust!

“Maria,” a farmilar voice called, and I was pulled into a tight hug, jarring me from my thoughts.

"Miss Olivia, I can't breathe,” I said while trying to push her away.

She broke the hug. Oh, sorry, my dear, I am just too happy. I thought that something bad had happened to you. Those motherfuckers didn't hurt you, right?“ Her hands were all over me, lifting and pulling down the dress to see if she could find any bruises.

Holy. Fucking. Gracious. I am blessed to have someone like her take care of me. I thought while curling my lips upward for a smile, not knowing about the danger lurking behind us.