I almost didn’t have the patience to wait for Gus to inform me of Dahlia’s condition. After all, once he did, my mother would surely march us down to where she was detained and have me put a silver bullet through her skull. Dahlia Elrod’s life wouldn’t be the first I would’ve taken, but it didn’t make it any more pleasant despite how horrible she was as a person.

It was the dead of the night when Gus finally appeared outside my bedroom door. I had been pacing back and forth ever since I was sent back to my room after our meal, having spent the rest of the time training my new weapon under my mother’s watchful eye.

I was getting better― I could tell from the way she reacted to my every shot that she was more than eager to have me practice on live targets rather than the wooden dummies she placed around the training room.

Meanwhile, dinner was uneventful, and the food smelled mildly rotten. I didn’t have the heart to mention anything, in fear that my mother would send the knife flying to my head if I did voice it out, and shoved as little down as I could. She ate with gusto, nevertheless, as though she didn’t smell or taste anything wrong.

I wondered if it was because of my heightened sense of smell, but even up till now, my stomach didn’t feel the least bit upset.

By the time Gus knocked on my door, I had almost worn down my carpets by pacing back and forth, unable to sleep. I jolted, sucking in a deep breath of air in surprise.

"Harper?" His voice came from outside, muffled by the door in between us. "I’m coming in."

I didn’t even have the time to react, barely shoving the pile of food I had stolen from the dinner table under my blanket when the door unlocked with a click.

My mother, despite her insistence on trusting me to be on my own, had locked the door from the outside to prevent me from leaving the room unattended. She had a key, and Gus had the other. Other than them, there was no one else who could open this door.

That also meant that if the building went on fire in an unforeseen circumstance, it was highly likely I would burn to death, but I digress.

When Gus stepped in, he had already changed into a fresh set of clothes. I could smell the scent of laundry detergent wafting off of his new attire — just a simple button-down shirt and some trousers — but even though he had already showered, there was still a bit of Dahlia’s blood mixed in with the smell of his body soap.

With such a keen sense of smell for blood in particular, I had no doubt that Gus could still smell it on himself as well. Yet, he acted as though nothing was amiss, smiling as he closed the door behind him.

"Have you healed her?" I blurted out the question that had been haunting my mind ever since we left Dahlia alone with him, battered and bruised, hanging on the edge of death.

"Enough," Gus said with a shrug. "She is at least healed enough to know who killed her. Although, of course, I can’t heal her completely. Otherwise, who knows if she will attempt to escape?"

"Escape?" I echoed with a scoff. "She is chained from head to toe with silver, locked behind a heavy silver door. How is she going to escape?"

"Tut tut," Gus said, clicking his tongue. "You know too little about werewolves despite having lived with them all your life. When pushed to the edge, their adrenaline and determination to live will drive them to do incredible feats."

"This is inhumane," I said, gritting my teeth. "Have you never heard of the last meal prisoners would often get?"

"How convenient then," Gus said, smiling. He showcased his bright pearly white teeth, his sharp fangs glinting menacingly when they caught the light of the room. "I’m not human."

He took a step back, running a hand through his hair to adjust the style before tossing me a charming grin.

"Madame Veronica said that we can visit her tomorrow morning. A night without food should be enough to drive her almost to the brink of madness, but not enough to kill her sanity completely. She should at least recognize you enough to know whose hands she died by," Gus said. "Until then, keep out of the area. You’re not to leave the room without us with you, got that?"

"I don’t need a chaperone in my mother’s own home," I snarled.

Gus merely laughed. "This isn’t a home, sweetheart. It lacks the warmth of one. It will do you good to remember that."

With that said, Gus left, closing the door shut behind him. I strained my ears, scowling when I heard the audible click of the lock.

His footsteps echoed behind him until I couldn’t hear it any further. He must’ve entered the lift and left the level, venturing to who knows where to do who knows what.

For now, that was the least of my worries.

I pressed my ears against the door, listening closely to see if there was anyone posted outside. There were none that I could catch― I didn’t hear anyone’s heartbeats outside, and Gus at least had one, despite being a vampire. Perhaps they had finally left me alone.

Good.

I reached into my pockets, pulling out the wad of toothpicks I had nicked from the dining table just now when having dinner. Perhaps to accommodate the vampires in the building, my mother had replaced the wooden toothpicks with metal ones. Silver, perhaps, but I couldn’t be bothered to find out.

Kneeling down, I quickly picked at the lock, jabbing the sharp little sticks in and wriggling them around in hopes of finding the notch.

"Why am I even doing this?" I mumbled out loud to myself. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Dahlia Elrod had been nothing but horrible to me ever since we first met, and back then, I hadn’t even ruined her dream wedding yet. She simply despised me just because I was as good as a human, and with that, unworthy of her attention.

Yet, here I was, feeling an immense sense of guilt that she was about to starve to death if she didn’t succumb to her injuries first. Werewolves healed fast, but not when wrapped with silver. It was a miracle she was even alive.

When the lock finally clicked open, I let out a breath of air I hadn’t realized I was holding. Then, I stared at the bed, eyeing the small bump that indicated where I had hidden my spoils of war.

"Ah, fuck it."