Unwanted Fates~ Book Two
Chapter 3

How Jace managed to hit Sylvie hard enough to bruise black and blue but not break her bones was a cruel mystery.

“Four hours,” he clicked, running a finger down her shin.

She pulled in her legs and arms tightly, protecting her belly as he shifted his weight.

Right before a strike, he would exhale, and she froze, waiting for the soft cue.

She lay in perfect silence for minutes, her body slick with sweat and breathing shallow. Then, just as her eyes began to droop, a brutal strike slammed across her thigh.

She bit her inner cheek and squeezed her eyes shut. He was not going to hear her scream or beg. Again he hit her, moving the baton along her legs, arms and back. With each whack, her body shuddered as if expecting a break.

After minutes of gruelling beatings, he stopped again, pressing the button of his watch.

“Why is he doing this?” Sylvie muttered to the shadows watching from the corners of her cell. Why would Rowan torture his mate? How could he-

“This is what your kind deserves after what you’ve done.”

Jace’s bitter words hit her back, and she shivered.

“I’ve done nothing.”

Jace growled, striking her spine with his boot. “You’re a filthy bloodsucker. Just like the monsters that murdered my wife,” his voice rasped before another bruising hit cracked her tailbone. That time she did scream before covering her mouth with the back of her hand and biting to focus the pain away from her lower back.

“Fuck,” Jace muttered, pacing around the small, dank cell.

Whatever hatred he felt for her was misplaced. She wasn’t even a full vampire and had only tasted the blood of her mates on their marking night.

“I didn’t hurt your wife,” she panted, eyes scrunching as waves of nausea gripped her belly. Then, vomiting hot acid, she slid her head back and stared at his duplicating figure.

“You’re a killer.”

“No,” she whispered. It was a lie, and Jace seemed to know it immediately. But it wasn’t what he thought. They deserved it. They did...

“Can you say you haven’t murdered someone in cold blood?”

Her eyes prickled. “I-They-”

“Don’t lie to me, girl. And don’t make excuses for your crimes.” He knelt by her face, peering his black eyes into her soul. He was her reaper.

“Have you killed?”

“Yes.”

Her tears flooded her face as she whispered the truth. She had killed two men. Two horrible monsters that were deserving of death.

“Then you are no different from the beasts that killed my family. They took something from me, so now I’ll take something from them.”

As filtered light trickled through the cell windows, Jace clicked his stopwatch. “Still four hours. And your bones have healed too.”

Sylvie stared dejectedly at the damp ground, unable to respond.

A soft buzz made her jump a fraction, and she realised he was right. Her hand and tailbone felt fine again. Long buried memories from childhood flashed in her mind.

One of her escape attempts from her abusive foster family, she ran onto the second-floor balcony and tried to jump to the neighbouring buildings’ fire escape. The blinding agony of her feet and ankles, shattering like glass as she missed and plummeted to the pavement, shocked her system. Nobody looked for her until sunset, and by then, after hours of falling in and out of unconsciousness, she stood and walked back inside as if nothing had happened. She eventually convinced herself it was just a dream.

“Yes, alpha. Yes. She’s in fine condition. Probably hungry. No. Didn’t touch it. Alright.”

A rough grip squeezed her bicep and stood her up, the bike shorts riding dangerously high up her crack. She unceremoniously plucked her wedgie and clenched her fists at her sides.

“Now what. ”

“Fresh air. Alphas orders.”

Why the hell would he care if she got fresh air? The bastard had let his man torture her for eight hours. She was so tired her eyes hardly stayed open.

As the cell door clanged open, a sudden rush hit her chest. Fresh air meant nature. Nature meant trees, and trees meant bye- bye Jace.

Masking all excitement, she dragged her feet from the cell and down the corridor after Jace. He spun to scowl at her a few times before grabbing her bicep and holding her in front of him. Could he sense her raging emotions like Kian?

Beneath the sparse tree canopy, little light caressed the moist earth underfoot. The shorts and t-shirt did little to keep away the chill. Her manicured toes curled in the damp ground before Jace shoved her forward towards the thicker forest line. Heart jumping in her chest, she stepped a fraction faster when Jace stopped her.

“Why are you full of adrenaline right now?”

“What?”

“I can smell it on you.”

She scowled up and him and tried to even her breathing, pinching herself on the outer thigh. The pain drew her attention, and her heart slowed.

“I just like it outside.”

“Well, don’t get used to it, you-”

Quick footsteps darted through the trees at an inhuman pace. Then, a soft voice hummed a sweet tune.

The dainty creature that flitted from the tree line with barely a hair out of place looked like springtime personified. If only she had some kind of fairy name to finish off the flowing red locks, freckles and dimpled smile.

“Rosie!”

Sylvie smirked. Of course, her name was Rosie.

“Does Alpha know you’re here?” Jace asked coarsely. He pulled Sylvie to his side and squeezed her in a warning.

“Rowan isn’t the boss of where I choose to exercise; you mean old bear,” she said with a coy smile. She used his first name. What were they to each other?

Sylvie looked at Jace’s face, ignoring her disgusting flash of jealousy, expecting him to explode from her insult, but instead, his flushed expression suggested some other emotion. Huh.

“Well, you shouldn’t be here when we have prisoners.”

Prisoner. If that’s what he wants to call his ‘mate,’ then he can shove his stupid tattooed head right up his-

“Hi! I’m Rosie. And you are?”

Rosie appeared in front of the pair with a beaming white smile and hand outstretched to shake. Her greeny-hazel eyes twinkled.

Sylvie stared at the hand and back up at her, narrowing her eyes.

Was this some act or trap to make her lower her guard? Nobody was that nice. At least no one she had met before.

“Sylvie,” she replied, voice hollow.

“That’s a lovely name. Who are you, Sylvie?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“She’s a damn vamp, Rosie. Go run back home.”

“A vamp, huh?” She blinked up at the morning sunbeams shooting through the tree canopy. “She doesn’t look like a vamp to me. Born vampire?” her brows furrowed comically.

Sylvie nodded. “Half.”

Jace bristled at her side as Rosie inclined her head.

“Any fun abilities?”

“Rosie!”

She contemplated sharing with her about the healing abilities, but Jace’s strangling grip on her bicep changed her mind. Besides, Rosie very well could have been a spy, the good cop, to lower her guard. She wasn’t about to let her fake niceties get to her.

Half-turning, Jace yanked her back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to bed,” she mumbled sarcastically.

“Let me get you something to eat,” Rosie said at her side, jumping lightly from foot to foot. Jace growled, but she silenced him with a slim finger. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Sylvie stared after the surprisingly fast shifter as Jace growled. “Why didn’t you tell her about me?”

His voice pitched lower, guarded, and Sylvie frowned. Why would she? She was Rowan’s prisoner. He was following orders, and she, for one, didn’t trust Rosie. She’d probably laugh and say she deserved it. Though, she didn’t seem as disgusted by her vampire heritage. Ugh-

Jace jerked her arm again. “Answer me!”

“Why would I?”

His face flickered for a fraction before turning hard. “Stop talking.”

“I-” Her mouth gaped as he pushed her to sit on the ground.

“I’m back!” Rosie appeared with another beaming smile, a soft flush to her cheekbones and a bag in her hand.

Sitting opposite Sylvie cross-legged, she pulled out two containers. The smell from them both angered Sylvie’s stomach. Its grumbles making the other woman’s face pinched.

“When did you last eat?” she asked, opening both boxes and placing a small bowl in Sylvie’s lap.

Sylvie shrugged, staring fixated on the stew Rosie quickly stirred—potato, silverbeet and watercress, along with what looked like little dumplings. Rosie poured half into Sylvie’s bowl before placing a golden square of bread on the side and repeated the process with her own bowl.

She smiled and dug in, staring at Sylvie as she slowly copied the actions. No cutlery, but Sylvie didn’t mind. She was too hungry to bother with a spoon.

A soft sigh escaped her nose, and Rosie hummed. “I’m glad you like it. Rowan made it special.”

Sylvie almost choked, placing the bowl on the ground and catching the small piece of potato in her hand. Rosie was wise for pouring herself some, or Sylvie would have assumed he poisoned it. But, even if she wanted to spit out Rowan’s cooking, the taste was too divine to waste a single bite. Popping the potato in her mouth and swallowing like she was taking a pill, she turned and picked up her bowl again.

“What do you mean special.”

“Well,” Rosie said, swallowing a mouthful, “Rowan told us he’s almost found a fae artefact that can promise us mates! It’s been almost two decades since a pure shifter was born, so everyone’s really excited. I’m sure he won’t mind that I took some for us.”

Sylvie swallowed the last of the stew, the warmth both heating and chilling her. A heavy pit burrowed into her gut as Rosie tidied up the empty containers and stood. Would the artefact also get rid of mate bonds? Because she was ready to untether herself from him. The way Rosie’s eyes lit up talking about their plans churned some fresh guilt inside her. What if they weren’t the bad guys?

Jace grumbled loudly before jerking his head back towards the cells.

Yes, best not to forget that monster ordered her to stay in filthy squalor to be beaten for hours by his stupid henchman. Rosie was a liar. A good one, but a liar nonetheless.

She thought of her mates, probably worried sick, and forced away a tear while standing on shaking legs. The trees were so close, but she didn’t trust she could merge fast enough before getting caught by Jace.

Even Rosie moved fast as a hare. She didn’t stand a chance.

Just as she turned towards the cells, the roar of an engine and skittering gravel reached her ears. Jace carried on walking, unphased by the sound, while Rosie let out a quick ‘bye’ and dashed off from where she came.

Not another person coming to torture her. Please. She couldn’t take another beating.

Rowan appeared along the dirt-worn path, his expression thunderous, a cell phone clutched in his clenched fist.

Holding it up to Sylvie, his mouth twitched.

“It’s for you.”