NYLA
It was getting warmer.
I forced open one eye, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to my bones like a weighted blanket. It felt like I'd been asleep for days—no, years. The first thing I saw was the fireplace, its soft, flickering glow dancing along the stone walls. That explained the sudden burst of warmth cocooning me. For a moment, I let myself relax into it.
But comfort didn't last long.
Fear quickly replaced it when I took in the rest of the room.
Skulls. Lots of them. Some animal, some I wasn't so sure about. Totems hung from hooks on the stone walls—symbols I couldn't recognize but that made my stomach twist. A large, roughly-carved table sat off to the side, cluttered with open books, scrolls, dried herbs, and... weapons. Axes, blades, even something that looked like a whip made from bone.
Where the hell was I?
All the drowsiness vanished in a snap, replaced by pure, bone-deep terror. I sat upright, realizing I was lying on a small, makeshift bed. The mattress was lumpy, the blanket scratchy, and everything about the place screamed not home—whatever home was. I tried to conjure an image, a place, even a name I could latch onto, but my mind came up blank.
Had I been kidnapped?
Panic surged in my chest as I looked down at my hands. They were pale. Thinner than I remembered—but unbound. No cuffs, no ropes, no bruises. If this was a kidnapping, someone had made a mistake by not restraining me.
Their mistake, my advantage.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the jolt of nausea that struck me as I stood. I gritted my teeth and fought through it. I stumbled to the door, careful not to trip on the uneven floorboards. My heart thundered in my ears as I creaked the door open a sliver. No one. No guard. No sound of footsteps.
I opened it wider and slipped out, gently closing the heavy wood behind me. It shut with a dull thud that echoed a little too loud for comfort. The hallway beyond was dimly lit by torches, the flames casting shadows that danced across the stone walls like ghosts.
I crept forward, staying close to the wall, pausing only when I heard soft voices ahead—two women, speaking in hushed tones. I held my breath and watched as they passed by, their silhouettes tall and elegant in the flickering torchlight. They didn't notice me. As soon as they were out of sight, I moved quickly, following them at a distance until they disappeared around a corner.
At the end of the hallway was a small wooden gate. Light filtered through the cracks—sunlight. I could feel it even before I reached it. My fingers trembled as I reached for the latch, expecting it to resist. But it didn't. It swung open with ease.
That scared me more than anything.
No alarms. No shouting. No one chasing me.
I ran.
The halls blurred past me, each one more unfamiliar than the last. Stone walls, thick wooden doors, strange markings on banners I didn't understand. The place felt ancient and powerful, but cold—like the bones of something that had died a long time ago.
I needed to get out. To go home.
But then it hit me.
Where was home?
I skidded to a stop, chest heaving. I tried to think—where did I live? What was the last thing I remembered? Who did I love? The questions spiraled through my mind, faster and faster, but each one slammed into the same blank wall.
Nothing. My name was all I had. Nyla. Beyond that, I was a void.
Panic clawed at my throat, but I kept running anyway. I didn't know where I was going, but every instinct in my body screamed run. I turned a corner at full speed—and collided with something solid.
No. Someone solid.
I gasped as I hit the wall of muscle. The impact jolted me, and I stumbled backward, preparing to hit the floor. But instead, strong arms caught me mid-fall, wrapping around my waist and holding me up like I weighed nothing. I froze.
Heat radiated off the man holding me, strong and steady. I looked up, and whatever breath I had left escaped me.
He was beautiful.
A strong, defined jawline peppered with dark-blond facial hair. Eyes like ice—piercing blue and oddly confused, like he didn't know what he was looking at. Full lips curled slightly in surprise, and a nose that made his face look like it had been sculpted from marble.
He blinked, clearly as startled as I was.
I didn't even feel the embarrassment yet. His body heat was oddly comforting, almost distracting. I could've melted into him. That is, until—
"Ahem."
The sharp sound broke whatever spell had wrapped around us. He immediately let me go, and I stepped back, dazed. That's when I realized three very unfortunate things.
One, what I'd thought was a wall or obstacle had been his chest. A very solid, very broad chest.
Two, he was tall. Taller than most people I'd ever seen—and every inch of him was just as intimidating as his face.
And three... there was an angry brunette standing beside him, holding his hand and glaring at me like she wished me dead.
Perfect.
"I'm so sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't see where I was going—I was just trying to find the exit and—"
"Well, she's not blind or deaf, like I suspected," the brunette interrupted. Her tone was syrupy-sweet, but her words cut like knives. I frowned.
I didn't like her.
"What Thalia meant," the man said, voice low and calm, "is that we called out for you to stop. You didn't respond." He looked at me again, eyes narrowing. "Who are you? I don't recognize you."
"I'm... Nyla." I swallowed hard. "Just Nyla."
I prayed they wouldn't ask anything else. Because I had nothing more to give.
Thalia's eyes narrowed further. "No last name, huh? No reverence in her voice either. Caelan, she's probably a spy. A terrible one."
Spy?
Before I could react, she stalked toward me and yanked up the sleeve of my shirt. I flinched but didn't stop her. She stared at my bare wrist, then smiled like she'd struck gold.
"She doesn't have the Crescent Vale mark."
Crescent Vale. Was that the name of this place? A city? A kingdom? A... pack?
My head spun with questions.
Before I could answer, cold metal closed around my wrists. I twisted and saw two armored men—silent, expressionless. One held me while the other stepped in front of me.
"Wait—what's happening?" I started, panic bubbling again. "I'm not a spy. I swear. I just woke up in a room—I don't even know where I am!"
"You're not a member of our pack," Thalia said smoothly, her honeyed voice full of venom. "And you won't give us any useful information. Where are you from, Nyla? Why were you running? Who are you really?"
I bit down on the urge to scream. I had no answers. And even if I did, would they believe me?
I went silent.
That's when I noticed Caelan—he hadn't spoken again. He was watching me, brows furrowed like he was trying to solve a puzzle. His gaze held a flicker of curiosity, even concern. I almost laughed. I couldn't figure myself out—how was he supposed to?
Finally, he broke the silence.
"Until we can confirm who you are, you'll be held in the dungeons. I can't risk a threat to the pack."
I didn't fight as the armored men dragged me away. What would be the point? I was unarmed, unknown, and utterly alone.
As the heavy doors closed behind me, I thought bitterly, Screw my luck. I never should've left that creepy bedroom.