It all happened too fast, yet so slowly half the day rolled by.
Rosaline endured being tied down in the execution square, the sun above roasting her skin as all the council members went in for a meeting. That meeting would decide her fate.
She couldn't take the words she'd heard earlier out of her mind.
She had the mark of immunity... not just from any alpha but from the dark alpha.
Rosaline remembered him being mentioned in one of the topics at school. She'd searched about him and there had been so much information about him on the internet—from fabricated, overly exaggerated claims of him single-handedly killing a hundred thousand humans with his bare hands during the wars nine hundred years ago, to how brutally he'd killed his fated mate because he wanted to rebel against the moon goddess.
No one could guarantee the sources of those internet stories; however, one thing was certain—the dark alpha was a huge force that couldn't be messed with.
The wheels in her brain churned, questions swirled, but she couldn't find answers.
Why her?
How did the dark alpha suddenly mark her for immunity?
It didn't make any sense to her. Someone like her was so insignificant to Redthorn pack, not to mention Gravefen—the largest and strongest werewolf pack in North America. Didn't the dark alpha have enough on his plate ruling Gravefen and the entire werewolf politics in general to care about an insignificant wolf like her?
Rosaline's thoughts were suddenly cut off as water descended upon her whole body, instantly drenching her. The foul smell made her realize the water was anything but pure—rotten vegetables clung to her hair and body from it.
When she raised her head, the women standing above on the higher grounds, wearing uniforms of the pack omegas, hurriedly ran off with the buckets with which they had carried the rotten vegetable water.
Rosaline hadn't taken her sharp gaze away from their direction yet when a hard object knocked her forehead, causing her to groan in pain.
Warm red blood slid down her forehead, and she stared at the large stone next to her feet where she was tied up.
She sighted another omega holding a bunch of stones in hand, throwing them in her direction, several curses leaving her mouth.
The pain was nothing new to Rosaline. She scoffed weakly, feeling her eyes slowly sliding closed.
The omegas had always been used as servants and mistreated in a way. They were coming at her so furiously now to take out all their anger on her. They were the lowest ranks in the pack, after all—seeing someone lower than them had given them a chance to retaliate.
This world was huge and vast, and Rosaline felt like a tiny speck of dust. But if... just if she ever could get the chance, if that ladder existed that would lead her to the top, she would climb it relentlessly despite whatever thorns that would prick her feet. She would climb till she reached the very top, until she could stand nose to nose with an alpha like Lucan... no, till she surpassed him in every way.
The elders filed out of their meeting spot, each of them holding grim faces and foul expressions.
Serena and Lucan didn't come back out, but the elder took Lucan's spot on the pedestal to make his announcement.
"Rosaline Foxx, criminal guilty of murdering our previous alpha. Thank the moon goddess, for our magnanimous alpha Lucan Axler has shown mercy. You shall not be killed but banished from our pack and exiled away for the rest of your life!"
As the verdict fell, murmurs filled the air, none in support of Rosaline.
She should have known—her verdict would be no less than death.
Rosaline glanced around the whole pack, this place she'd grown up but had no one's love or support. Every single person present in this pack wanted her dead.
From her wretched lover who framed her, to her step-sister who supported him, her own biological mother and stepfather, and every member of this pack.
She felt it again, a burst of rage so bright and potent it engulfed her as she marked every single face she could see deep into her memory.
Banishment? Exile? She still had life in her, she still had breath. Death felt easier, but screw it—she would live... she would live to see every single one of these faces plead for mercy. She wouldn't just bring Lucan Axler down, but she would bring Redthorn pack down along with him. This was her unshakeable vow!
---
Rosaline watched the Redthorn pack territories fade behind her as she was led away by the sentinels. This wasn't goodbye. She would return.
Chains bound her limbs, her hands and her feet. They dragged her along without a care for how she stumbled over tree barks and cuts sustained on her skin.
Civilization became farther and farther away as they took her deep into the forests.
"Because she's so fucking weak, we have to travel so slowly. Once we get her to Hell's Gate, we can go back to the pack," one of the sentinels spat and muttered in an annoyed tone. Their uniform was a modified bulletproof steel armour that protected them from any unexpected attacks.
"You mean we should leave her at the entrance of Hell's Gate? The alpha clearly instructed we should keep an eye on her for a few days to make sure she... doesn't come out alive," a younger sentinel argued, softening his voice as he spoke the last words, knowing about the immunity mark placed on her. How she got it was still a mystery to the whole pack.
Why would the Dark Alpha protect a weak, wolfless creature like her?
One thing was certain—whatever the reason could be, she couldn't be kept anywhere near the Redthorn pack anymore. That mark on her back spelled trouble. If something were to end up happening to her within the territories of their pack, it would be on them, and that would spell the destruction of the entire pack.
"Hahaha! Listen to yourself talk. Do you think a weak little thing like her can actually survive a day in Hell's Gate? We don't need to stay and supervise. She'd be dead in a matter of hours," the first sentinel said nonchalantly, not caring what would happen to her.
Hell's Gate... Rosaline thought with a sarcastic, knowing smile on her bruised face.
Of course Lucan wouldn't spare her. Immunity mark or not, he would make sure she dies—if not within his territory, then outside of it.
Hell's Gate was, as the name implied, hell itself.
It was a huge forest far away from civilization where the most dangerous supernatural creatures were sealed for years without being let out into the world. Nothing could break the spell that sealed those demonically dangerous creatures within Hell's Gate. Though they couldn't freely go out into the world, the outside world could go in. But once in... no one had ever gotten out to tell the tale.
Rosaline had actually thought she'd escaped death, but she should have known that Lucan was far more evil than to spare her. Despite the mark that suddenly appeared on her neck, he would find other methods to get rid of her.
They journeyed for days, the sentinels barely feeding her enough food and water to keep her strong. She was marked for death anyway.
Several times, when she thought they weren't looking, she attempted to escape. But they'd still catch up to her, hitting her brutally for it. She no longer had the energy to try to escape after that.
Within these past few days, Rosaline became used to the sounds and smells of the forest. Be it the soothing bird sounds during the day, or the creepy owl hootings at night. From the dewy smell of nature during the day to the harsh smell of tree barks at night—she became accustomed to it all.
From the calculations of the sun, Rosaline could tell they'd spent four days travelling till they reached their destination.
A huge wall stood before them, one that looked like it had been built there for centuries. Old vines wound up the never-ending high wall that looked like it separated a whole kingdom from them.
A small wooden door sat against the wall, covered in overgrown weeds. The two sentinels who'd escorted her all the way seemed to hesitate. Everyone had heard the horrors of what lay behind that door.
The older and stronger sentinel—the one that had struck Rosaline several times when she'd tried to escape—walked forward. Using the piece of charm given by the elders, the only thing that could unlock the doors at Hell's Gate, he wound it around the tree-like knob and twisted it downwards.
A chill suddenly blew towards them, a creepy chill that seemed to come with silently eerie whispers in the wind.
"What are you waiting for... toss her in so we can get it over with."
No! Rosaline screamed internally, struggling under the sentinel's grip. She didn't want to go in there!
"No!" Her scream died out when the sentinel shoved her through the door, where only darkness lay beyond. The wooden door was shut tight from the outside, and that was the end... or so she thought.
She fell... kept falling as if there would never be a landing. The farther she fell, the more she saw memories of her whole life flash before her eyes.
It was said that one would see their whole life laid before them at the final moments of death.
She didn't see the light that flashed in the darkness, her long blonde hair tangled and unkempt, glimmering as it turned a deep shade of red, illuminating the dark space. She didn't notice her eyes—blue, the deepest shade—suddenly glow red, just like her hair.
She expected to land in a deadly world filled with demons and monsters that would devour her. But immediately after she landed, space seemed to have sucked her in.
Her eyes were tightly closed; she didn't want to see the nightmare in front of her eyes. But when something cold suddenly touched her chin, she flinched, frightened out of her skin. Still, she didn't scream. Instead, her eyes—deep red—swung open, quickly changing to their normal shade of blue.
They widened in shock... What was before her wasn't a nightmare... or could it be?
She glanced up slowly at the elongated figure before her.
The skies were crystal clear here. She had fallen on what seemed like a rooftop of sorts, and someone was standing right in front of her.
Dark clouds loomed behind this person, a flash of lightning illuminating a head full of silver hair swept to the side of his face.
It was a man!
A man whose features she couldn't fully make out because her gaze was blurry. But she could tell one thing... this person's mere presence oozed power!
If she could describe this person in a single word, it would be the word demonic.
The man crouched lower from his intimidating height to her level where she was kneeling on the rooftop floor, gazing into her face with a rigid face—stone cold and emotionless.
She saw his eyes... deep gold as he surveyed her.
"So it's you..." His grip on her chin tightened, his hand so cold it made her shiver. "Mate."
That one word he'd said made her stiffen completely, unable to move or speak.