Chapter 115
I was on the verge of breaking down, my hair tangled, dirt streaking my face. But I refused to let him see how much he had rattled me. I steadied my breath and glared at him. “What do you want from me?” I asked him coldly.
He tilted his head slightly, studying me as if I were some fascinating puzzle. “You’re still so calm,” he said, “That’s my favorite quality in you.” I frowned. Calm? Was he really admiring me for that? There was something almost… wrong in the way he spoke. I couldn’t understand him. “You’re familiar,” I said, my mind racing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”
Merhold didn’t seem to care about my confusion. He ignored my words and, instead, waved a hand dismissively. “Have food and water brought to her,” he ordered one of the guards. I didn’t respond. His sudden calmness made my skin crawl. He was playing some sort of game, but I couldn’t figure out the rules.
As Merhold turned to leave, I was left with nothing but silence and the sound of the guards” footsteps fading away. The food they brought wasn’t much, a simple meal of bread and
water, but it was enough to sustain me. I wasn’t hungry. I was too scared.
I stared at the meal, lost in thought. I needed to conserve my strength. Whether I managed
to escape or had to make a deal with him, I had to stay strong. I couldn’t afford to waste any
energy or hope.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Cyrus. Was he fine? Had he made it home? The questions kept racing through my mind, and I couldn’t get rid of the worry. What if something
happened to him? What if he was still in danger? The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t focus on anything else. I needed answers.
I couldn’t sit there anymore. I walked up to the dungeon door and hit it as hard as I could. It didn’t make a sound loud enough for me to feel better, so I hit it again, harder.
Guards! Guards!” I yelled, my voice bouncing off the stone walls. “I need to see Merhold!” I pounded the door, louder this time. “Bring him here now!” I wasn’t going to wait around – anymore. I needed to know if Cyrus was okay.
Merhold’s POV:
I sat in my room, watching Doris through the surveillance monitors. It was strange, how captivating she was even in her current state. She cursed the guards, her voice full of defiance despite the situation. I couldn’t help but smile and let out a small chuckle.
“She’s always this brave in the face of adversity,” I said quietly, more to myself than to the werewolf who stood beside me. The werewolf raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell her who you are?” he asked, “You’re a noble person“. I shook my head, a laugh escaping me. “No, no, no,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m the evil rogue wolf now. It suits me
better.”
My thoughts drifted back to a time, five years ago, when I was nothing like I was now. Back then, I was weak. My mother’s illness consumed me. I couldn’t stop the fear growing inside. me. Every day felt like a battle, one I wasn’t sure I was winning. I remember sitting in that hospital room, feeling helpless, lost in my grief. And then I saw Doris.
She was there, sitting with Oliver, day after day, as he fought his battle with cancer. She was the light in that dark place. She made people laugh, brought joy to their lives with her optimism. But it was more than that. She helped me, too.
One day, I was sitting alone in the corner, despair threatening to take over. Doris noticed me and came over. She handed me a cup of sweet milk. I could hardly believe it.
“Stay positive,” she told me, her voice soft but firm. “The patient is already struggling. If the person beside them is sad, it makes everything worse. You need to be strong, too.” Her words were like a beacon in the dark. She was like an angel, offering warmth when I felt nothing but cold.
I watched her leave, and something inside me shifted. Her kindness, her light, all of it gave me hope. I decided, then, that I had to be stronger, not just for my mother, but for myself.
I looked lovingly at Doris now, her image in the surveillance video on the screen. She was so much like she was back then, calm, unwavering, even in the face of fear. A small, fond smile appeared on my lips.
“Dear Doris,” I whispered, my voice filled with affection. “When can you think of me again?
haptes Fis
ve really missed you these past five years,”
♡ (
Divine In My First Love For Secret Research Second Chance at Happiness
