SERAPHINA'S POV
I admit to myself that I may have significantly overestimated my spying skills when I decided to follow the enemy into their hiding spot. What's worse, I went in alone without letting anyone know of my whereabouts.
Being chained in the corner of a dark room has made that pretty clear to me now. I regret my actions, and the way my cheeks sting painfully serves as a harsh reminder.
However, dwelling in regret all night won't do me any good.
Morgan has my phone, which means he could easily contact Juliet or Alice if he wanted to.
I can't let that happen.
Frantically, I search for a way out, straining my eyes in the near-darkness for anything I could use to pick the lock.
The room is too dark to see clearly, the only source of light being the moonlight filtering in through a large window on the side.
I struggle with my chains for another minute before surrendering to my helplessness, giving up altogether.
"Dammit." I swear under my breath.
The worst part of my current predicament is that I can't stop recalling what led me into this mess in the first place. Artemis, making out with that girl-whose identity remains unknown to me, but whose tall figure and luscious hair remains hauntingly vivid in my mind.
Her movements were wild, seductive, like a vixen grinding against him. I still can't pinpoint exactly why the sight bothers me so much, but it infuriates me every time I think of it.
I can almost imagine Artemis right now, gazing into her eyes under the soft glow of the moon, probably having the time of his life at my own party.
He's likely using the occasion to pick up as many girls as possible, planning to take them back to his dorm room and utterly tarnish the place.
And here I am, drawing what could very well be my last breath, stuck in this dank, unlit room.
He better not even go close to my bed, or touch any of my stuff.
A loud thud just outside the door yanks me back to the present, putting me on high alert. He's come for me, I think - Morgan.
He's probably decided to finish me off before anyone gets a chance to find me. I grab an old, rusted, sharp piece of metal from the floor and tuck it into my clothes.
I'm ready to pounce the moment that door creaks open, ready for my revenge-even if it means gouging out one of his eyes.
The door slowly begins to open, and I count to three under my breath: 1... 2... 3!
"Sera?" A voice, softer and different from the one I was expecting, whispers my name.
I pause just before lunging, recognizing that annoying tone anywhere.
"Artemis?" My eyes widen the moment he steps into the room, locking eyes with me in the next second.
He lets out a sigh of relief once he recognizes me and moves closer. He's in front of me soon enough, and I can't hide my shock as he carefully inspects my face. I avoid his intense gaze.
"What the fuck?" His fingers lightly brush over my cheek, his eyes darkening as he breathes out a mixture of concern and irritation. "That bastard laid his hands on you? I'll fucking kill him."
"What the hell? How did you find me?" I ask, my body finally relaxing as a wave of relief washes over me.
Artemis eventually lets go of me but doesn't answer right away.
Instead, he grabs the old, rusty chain holding me down and breaks it apart with his bare hands. An ugly scowl mars his face, and I can tell he's seething with anger.
"That's a story for another day. Right now, I want to talk about how crazy you must be to run off alone in the middle of the night, knowing full well some psychotic bastard is after you," he says, shooting me a sour look.
I recoil at the harshness in his tone, shocked at first but quickly consumed by a surge of anger.
"Don't you fucking dare go there. Whose one job was it to watch over me, huh? What the hell were you doing instead? Too busy exploring someone else's mouth to give a damn about what happened to me," I can't help but snap back at him; his audacity to act like he has any right to be angry blows my mind.
"What? I've bent over backward for you - half of which you didn't even want initially. Remember, just days ago you were pitching a fit about me being around you. And now, when I steal a few seconds for myself, you act like I've committed a cardinal sin? You're a damned hypocrite," he retorts, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Me! Hypocrite? You've got to be kidding. I never asked for your protection; you're the arrogant asshole who volunteered and made it a commandment. I only complied because you wouldn't take no for an answer. And the second you find that inconvenient, you abandon ship for the next piece of ass in a skirt!" I counter, each word loaded with venom.
His laughter is a bitter symphony, and his eyes, those eyes I thought I knew, look genuinely hurt. For a fleeting second, I wonder if I've crossed a line.
"Wow, if I'm such a failure and not up to your high standard, why not find someone, anyone else to rescue you from Morgan? Get Lucian to break into this high-security hellhole to save you. But oh wait, he hasn't even noticed you're missing, has he? Only I did!" He finally raises his voice, breaking through the tense air.
"I'm the one who tracked you down. I'm the one who sensed the danger you were in and pushed aside all those skirts you think I'm so busy fucking, just to be here right now. But will you ever show a shred of genuine gratitude? No, because you're too busy nitpicking every single damn thing I do wrong, like you're some sort of saint. Like everybody else. Because heaven forbid, if the world doesn't focus on your never-ending tragedy for just one fucking second, you'd spontaneously combust.," he roars back, his voice full of accusation and raw hurt.
"You don't know anything about me," I whisper, my voice barely audible, my lower lip trembling. Vulnerability floods me as I look into his eyes.
"You sure as hell don't either."
We're caught in a momentary deadlock, eyes locked in a battle neither of us can win.
Finally, I relent, tearing my gaze away from his searing blue eyes that, for some unfathomable reason, only deepen my pain.
"That's it. I don't need you to rescue me; I can do it myself," I declare, wiping away the tears threatening to betray my composure.
I pivot, moving swiftly past him.
I hear him scoff, almost can see him rolling his eyes in my mind's eye.
A deep sigh escapes him as I grasp the door handle, pulling it open with more force than necessary. He doesn't stop me, even though both of us know it's likely a terrible idea.
As I step out, fate-or perhaps just my terrible luck-puts one of Morgan's goons directly in my path, coming up the stairs.
Our eyes lock, and in that split second, he glances at the unconscious guard slumped beside the door, then back to me.
"She's gotten out!" he bellows, alerting the others down below before launching himself toward me like a human missile.
Artemis' hand shoots out, catching the guy by the neck with a grip as unyielding as iron.
In a singular fluid motion, he hurls him back down the stairs. The guy's body tumbles awkwardly, crashing into a heap at the bottom, knocked out cold.
"I don't need your help," I hiss, turning to glare at Artemis.
"Wait till we're not surrounded by a bunch of Gamma wolves who want you dead, then say that. I'll gladly leave you alone," he retorts, his frown etched with an intensity I can't ignore.
No sooner have the words left his mouth than another man barrels up the stairs.
Artemis handles him with the same ruthless efficiency as the first, dispatching him within seconds.
I'm astonished, despite myself, by the fluidity and deadly grace of his movements. How many years of training, of life-and-death situations, has it taken for him to move like that?
Some of it is natural talent, sure, but the skill-each strike, each punch-that's hard-won.
His words from earlier circle back to me, and for a fleeting moment, I consider the fact that I don't actually know much about this man.
Just as he doesn't know me.
I shake off the thought almost as quickly as it comes; I'm supposed to be mad at him, damn it.
Pushing aside my emotions, I march past him. He's busy-effortlessly choking out three more guys rushing toward us-and I can't help but move ahead him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Artemis yells after me, clearly irritated by my determination to prove myself.
"Showing you I can take care of myself," I retort, rushing down the stairs.
I almost make it to the bottom when another guy bursts into my path, claws extended, ready to strike.
I dodge just in time, throwing a punch that collides with his face, hard as oak. Pain shoots through my hand, making me wince and step back.
The guy laughs, lunging for another strike, but this time Artemis yanks me out of the way.
I spin momentarily in the air before crashing into his solid chest. He swats the guy away like an irritating bug.
"Don't do anything stupid, Sera," he warns, annoyance now tinged with genuine concern.
"Defending myself isn't stupid," I snap, not ready to put up with his narrative.
Artemis sighs, his face reflecting a tired resignation.
"There's nothing wrong with needing help, and I don't think you can't handle shit on your own. It's just... I'm worried because you don't always know when to let someone help you." His blue eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, the anger that's been churning inside me starts to dissolve.
I find myself staring into those eyes, feeling the residual heat of my own anger being extinguished by the warmth coming from his hands, securely holding me.
For just a fleeting moment, the walls I've built around myself seem less necessary.
My body's natural response is to lean into him, allowing myself to be enveloped by his soothing scent.
For a moment, I wonder why I was so angry in the first place - why I was so hurt that he was with a girl, why I had to run off on my own against my better judgement.
Then, guilt washes over me, replacing all those other feelings. I pull away from his touch, hang my head low, and find myself unable to meet his eyes.
"Artemis... I-" I pause, unable to complete the statement or offer the apology that I know I should.
He really has showed up for me more than anyone else has - and he's not perfect, not even close to being the stereotype prince charming. He's messy, and unpredictable, and a little selfish, but for what it's worth, he's been trying his best to do better.
Maybe that's what matters?
But the moment evaporates as the door flings open again, diverting both of our gazes to the main entrance.
Morgan waltzes in, followed by four more people. Artemis stiffens instantly, standing in front of me in a protective stance, shielding me from Morgan's view.
Still, curiosity wins, and I peek around him.
Morgan surveys the knocked-out bodies scattered behind us. Instead of a look of terror, a grin slowly widens across his face in evil delight.
"Oh, it seems we have guests, and they were just about to leave without saying hi."