Vivian
I was still looking around the room when I felt a cold hand on my left shoulder. I gasped, a knot of fear tightening in my stomach. I spun around, my heart racing, only to see... Stephen.
I let out a sigh of relief. "What is it?" I asked, my voice low and shaky.
"Just stay here," he said, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before dropping his hand.
"Are you leaving?" I asked, my words coming out in a stammer.
"Stay here," he said sternly, already on his way to the door.
"No, please!" I cried out. "You can't leave me alone. I'm not familiar with this place, and I'm not sure I can find my way back on my own. And what if that man comes back?" My words were tumbling out in a rush, my fear rising like a tide.
But he seemed not to hear me. He turned to the door and started to open it. I panicked, and blurted out, "Wait! What's your name?
He turned to face me, one eyebrow raised. "What?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
"Your name," I said, my voice a little calmer. "You never told me your name."
He looked at me for a long moment, then asked, "Why would you want to know that?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Why did I want to know his name? What difference did it make?
"There's no need," he said, his voice taking on a sneering tone. "After all, this could be your last day."
"Wait, what do you mean by that?" I asked, my voice shaking with fear.
But he ignored me, turning to the door and slamming it in my face.
"No!" I yelled, and ran for the door. I grabbed the doorknob, but it was locked tight.
"Please... open the door," I sobbed, my voice shaking. "I'm scared." I hugged my knees to my chest, huddling in the corner of the room.
As if on cue, the light flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness. I gasped and tried to stand, but my limbs felt weak with terror.
"Hello?" I called out, my voice small and tremulous. "Is anyone there? Please, help me."
"Who are you?" a deep voice asked. I looked up to see the man I'd recognized as the Lycan King, the one everyone called King Oregon.
My breath hitched, and my whole body shook with fear. His hands began to turn into claws, and he raised them in the air. Was he going to attack me? Was I about to die?
"Please... don't hurt me," I begged, holding my hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't tell anyone.
"Please, don't kill me," I begged, sobbing as tears rolled down my cheeks. A cold sweat broke out across my skin, and I shivered uncontrollably.
"Answer me!" he roared, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. I closed my eyes, trembling with fear.
"I won't ask again," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "If you don't answer, I'll tear out your heart right here and now."
"I'm... I'm your breeder," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.
He dropped his hand from my chin, and my face sagged down like it was his hand that had been holding it up.
"You're the chosen one?" he asked, a note of incredulity in his voice.
I nodded, but he cut me off with a snarl. "Speak, don't nod!" he demanded.
"Yes, King Oregon," I said, my voice trembling. My head bobbed up and down in a nervous nod.
He let out a snort of derision. "Go," he said, flicking his wrist in a dismissive gesture. "And don't breathe a word of this to anyone. We never met. Nothing happened." He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, his eyes never leaving my face.
"But I..." I started, my voice quivering.
"If you have a death wish, by all means stay," he said coldly, cutting me off. "Otherwise, I suggest you get out of my sight. Now."
My legs felt like lead, but I forced myself to move, my heart hammering in my chest. I stumbled out of his room and into the corridor, but I couldn't stop shaking. What was I going to do now?
My mind was racing, flooded with thoughts and questions. How could I possibly explain to him that I'd lied? I wasn't really his chosen breeder - I'd simply seized the opportunity to escape a terrible fate by masquerading as someone else. And now, I'd been caught in the lie, and he'd rejected me.
My mind whirled, desperate for a solution. What was I going to do now? I had no other options, no other place to go.
I was desperate, and so I knelt on the ground before him, my hands clasped together in supplication.
"What do you think you're doing?" he growled, his eyes blazing with anger.
I forced myself to speak. "Please take me in," I said, my voice trembling. "I'm your chosen breeder. I'll treat you well. I won't do anything unless you ask me to. I'll even pretend like I don't know you, if that's what you want.
He stared at me, his gaze intense and unreadable. He laughed, a humorless sound that sent a chill down my spine. "You're quite the funny one," he said. "But I don't need a breeder. My mother is deluded in thinking I do. I'm fine on my own."
His eyes bored into mine, the irises the color of a clear summer sky. I couldn't look away, even as I felt myself trembling.
His grip on the cigarette loosened, and the stick fell from his fingers. It hit the bed, sending a shower of sparks across the blanket.
"What...?" he said, his eyes widening in shock. "Have we met before?" His voice was low and tremulous, a shadow crossing his features.
I simply stared at him, my mouth dry and my body shaking. What was happening? Had I really triggered some sort of recognition in him which I couldn't even apprehend?
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