The Imprisoned Princess

After 24 hours in that room, the door’s unlocked from the outside. Trey jumps to his feet from his chair as Samual saunters into the small room. I remain on the bed trying to look docile. “Stand up,” he snaps, I guess to me so I get to my feet slowly. I want to give the opinion the wolfsbane’s still affecting me.

I continue to go against my nature and keep my head down. He grabs my arms roughly pulling my wrist eye level to him. “You’re not healing quick enough,” he snaps, seemingly enraged I still had welts where the chains had been for months... what did he expect? “A-Alpha, can I suggest Moonflower ointment,” Trey speaks carefully, not wishing to anger Samual further. Samual yanks my head up to look at my neck, I grunt at the sudden movement of my neck. “Organise she gets some and uses it.” He lets my head drop back down.

Suddenly he growls, a noise that starts in his chest ending in his throat, “She’s too dirty for my son. Why is she still dirty!” I hear the sound of a head banging against the wall.

“Sorry Alpha, I’ll make her shower again,” Trey mumbles. Either Trey is low in the pack, or this is how Samual keeps order; I suspect the latter.

I don’t agree with that, a pack should be able to trust each other. But Samual wasn’t a born Alpha, he can’t control through his voice like my father can. I still don’t think that is an excuse to use fear and violence for control.

“If you’re not ready to see my son when I get back-” He grips my chin and yanks my head up again, a knife in his hand, “I’ll use this on your poor defenceless brother.” I nod, not trusting myself to talk. He seems happy so leaves, locking the door behind him.

I look to Trey, I can see the blood on the concrete wall and he’s looking down to the floor. A trickle of blood running down his jawline. “He shouldn’t do that.” I take a step towards him, he’s not a bad guy, he just has a bad Alpha. “He’s my Alpha, he can do whatever he likes.” He swallows and sits down rubbing his head, his posture screaming defeat.

“Can I look?” I haven’t got closer to him, he shrugs so I slowly approach. I don’t feel scared with Trey any more. I notice his broad shoulders have dropped as he’s slouched. I take his head in my hands gently. I feel a strange feeling, a familiar feeling as I touch his skin. I ignore it and look through his brown hair. As I run my fingers through his strands of hair, I notice his hair isn’t as dark as I first thought, there are lots of strands of blonde running through that glint with the light as I separate the strands finding the cut.

I find the gash and run my finger along his skull which makes him flinch. “Sorry,” I whisper, I try to probe gently. “I can’t feel a fracture, and I can’t poke through so, you’ll be fine.” I drop the hand that was going through his hair, blood now on my fingers.

“Thanks.” He looks back up to me and meets my gaze, I haven’t dropped my other hand. How did I forget about that one? He leans his cheek into my hand seeming to enjoy the touch. He reaches and places his hand over mine, keeping it there. His hazel eyes soften, he looks so sad, why is he sad? “I’m sorry Princess,” he mumbles before standing and going to the bathroom, breaking our contact.

I sit back on the bed, avoiding looking into the bathroom. Why was he sorry? He was following orders, and that both times I had seen him with Samual he’d got hit. I understand why he does what he was told. I waited until he came out the bathroom. His face back to expressionless guard. “I’ll go shower, will you wait out here?” He nods stiffly, sitting back down heavily so the chair groaned.

I meticulously wash, going over every spot several times, with Trey not watching I feel I can take my time. I condition my hair this time too, running my fingers through the tangles. I can’t do as well as with a brush but it is better than before.

I step out of the shower, looking to the door. Trey still is not looking. I dry off and wrap the towel around myself. I glance at the mirror to look at my appearance for the first time in months. My wet hair looking almost black, but dried it is closer to light brown. My father always said my hair reminded him of Walnuts that grew around our house, I smile softly at the memory, I miss him. I miss them both. Mother fussing over everything, father busy but never too busy to watch me spar, or kiss my many grazed knees.

My golden eyes are a family trait, even in human form my eyes resemble my wolf’s, just as it did my father and brothers. I miss them, I miss my older brother Marc... I wonder how he’s doing?

My frame is thinner than normal. Months of being without exercise and sun have taken their toll. I miss my training sessions, I miss the obstacle courses around our land; I was out most days, it’s strange to see myself quite so pale.

I miss my pack, all the guards who I find hilarious as they try not to laugh or... move. I used to try at every opportunity when I was younger just to get them in trouble, like the brat I was - alright still am really.

I sigh as my mind drifts to my best friend; Jesse, he always made me laugh and we’d always get into trouble... We became experts at avoiding people to sneak through the Palace. A tear slides down my cheek thinking off all the home comforts I miss.