Chapter 20
Aurora’s POV
Lucien’s tail tightened around my waist.
Cold scales pressed through the thin fabric of my white dress sending chill down my spine.
“You know, most Upper District girls cry by now.” he murmured. “But you…you are special.”
I hated that he looked entertained.
His tail shifted slightly, dragging the chair a few inches across the floor.
Lucien leaned down to kiss me. But before he could touch me, I jerked my head forward and slammed my forehead into his chin.
Pain burst through my skull.
“-Fuck!” Lucien staggered back half a step.
The room went dead silent with everyone widening their eyes in shock. Then one of his men cursed.
“You little-”
He lunged toward me, but Lucien raised a hand and hissed, “Don’t touch her.”
I tasted blood in my mouth. My vision blurred for a second, but I forced myself to stay upright.
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Lucien slowly touched his chin.
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Athin line of blood appeared where his teeth had cut the inside of his lip.
“If you touch me again,” I said, my voice shaking, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re tied to a chair, Miss Collins.”
“You can try me.”
One of his men growled. “Boss, let me teach her—”
“I said stay back,” Lucien said coldly.
The room quieted again.
He stepped closer, slower this time. The gold in his eyes had gone sharper. “There’s one thing you should know about me though, I don’t respond well to threat.”
I swallowed and searched the room quickly.
On the floor near my shoe, there was a small jagged piece of glass, probably from an old lightbulb. It was no bigger than my thumb, but it had a sharp edge.
My heart pounded.
Lucien noticed my eyes move. “What are you looking at?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I shifted my weight and dragged the chair backward.
The chair tipped.
My shoulder slammed into the concrete floor. Pain exploded down my
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arm, and someone shouted. The chair cracked under the impact, one wooden leg splintering sharply.
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I rolled as much as the ropes allowed, ignoring the pain in my shoulder, and forced my bound hands toward the broken piece of glass.
The werewolf grabbed for me. But I caught the glass first.
Then I twisted hard and pressed the sharp end against the side of my own throat.
Everyone froze.
Lucien’s golden eyes went still.
The sharp edge dug into my skin. It hurt. A warm bead of blood slid down my neck. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped it, but I pressed harder.
The wolf–eared werebeast laughed once. “You think we care if you scratch yourself? We are sent to kill you!”
I stared straight at Lucien, not him. “Fine, go ahead and kill you. But I’d
rather slit my throat right now than let you touch and humiliate me before I die.”
Lucien narrowed his golden eyes at me. I could feel my pulse beating against the cold glass.
The scaled one clicked his tongue. “Boss, this is too much trouble. We should just do what Phoebe asked. Beat her, dump the body somewhere, and get paid.”
“Yeah,” another muttered. “The tiger will come soon. Might as well finish it before he gets close.”
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Lucien kept looking at me. His tail slowly loosened from my waist. The cold pressure disappeared, but I didn’t lower the broken glass.
He crouched in front of me, close enough that I could smell smoke on his clothes.
“You’re either very brave,” he said softly, “or very stupid.”
I didn’t say anything, just kept staring at him with my whole body tense.
Then he laughed under his breath.
“Take her to the dark room,” he said.
The werewolf frowned. “Boss?”
“She stays alive,” Lucien said. “No one touches her without
“But Phoebe…”
my order.”
“Phoebe doesn’t own us,” he said idly, lighting another cigarette. “I’ve done her a great favor by bringing her sister here. What I do with her sister next if my own business.”
He blew smoke onto my face, his smile deepened.
“I don’t like woman crying and struggling in bed. So I’ll keep you here for
a while. Everyone can be tamed with enough time.”
This was the first time I heard a werebeast trying to tame a human. It’s usually the other way around.
But at least it kept me alive and safe now.
Lucien’s men dragged me down a narrow corridor that smelled of mold
and dirty water.
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At the end of the hall, there was a heavy metal door. One of the men unlocked it and shoved me inside.
The room was completely black. No bulb. No window. No sound except my own heartbeat and the faint hum of pipes somewhere in the walls.
I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed slowly.
Silas must be going crazy right now.
The thought hurt more than the cut on my throat or the ropes.
I could picture him standing outside the Matching Center with that huge bouquet in his arms, finding my phone dropped on the pavement. I could imagine his face changing when he realized I was gone. The panic in his eyes. The rage after that.
No.
I couldn’t sit here and wait to be humiliated by that Lucien Voss. I needed to find a way out myself.
I forced myself up and began feeling around the room.
The walls were rough concrete. There were old crates stacked in one corner. My fingers found rusted metal chains, and something thin and hard wedged under a broken tile.
I bent down and pulled it free with my fingertips.
A nail. Old, rusted, and bent slightly at the end.
But it was sharp enough.
The lock was outside, of course. But the lower hinge was rusted, and one screw had already come loose from the damp.
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What happened next took forever.
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worked the nail under the screw and twisted until my fingertips felt raw. The metal scraped softly. Once. Twice. I stopped every few seconds to listen.
A voice drifted from somewhere down the hall.
“1
…never seen boss so interested in any woman like this…”
“She is pretty though…”
“Should’ve just taken the money and ended it.”
Their voices faded again. I quickly kept working.
The first screw dropped into my palm. The hinge sagged.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief and pushed carefully. The door did not open fully, but the bottom corner shifted just enough for me to squeeze through
The metal edge scraped my back. My dress caught on something and ripped. But I gritted my teeth and pulled harder and squeezed out.
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