Alpha Female | COMPLETED

38| Diva

-:Cecelia's POV:-

My body was in too much pain and I wanted to just rest. Almost all visible skin was black and blue. I could only imagine what my face was looking like. My hands were tied back with wolfsbane doused silver chains. I tried to move them as little as possible to keep the burning feeling to a minimum. I was stiff. My body was begging to be let free. I had had only one bathroom break with three guards watching me simultaneously so far.

Once, a girl came for my first aid. She was so reckless and brutal with the process, I had wished that they'd just let me rot instead. It all felt a hundred times worse with the wolfsbane inside my body and the fact that my body felt like lead after being strapped to the chair for Goddess knew how long. To support my recovery and because I had nothing better to do, I was trying to sleep.

Trying being the keyword since. I was already too addicted to a certain person's presence to be able to sleep without them.

It wasn't long after that I heard the door to my freedom open . . . then close again. I didn't give any indication that I'd noticed the obvious entry. I didn't open my eyes. I couldn't smell them, but my ears picked up their tread.

Andromeda.

I kept myself from smirking. I knew this would happen and I was waiting.

Coldwater splashed on me. It had happened before, but I still couldn't help the small gasp that escaped my lips. It was already getting chilly and the ice-cold buckets of water were definitely not helping. They eased the burn of the wolfsbane momentarily and helped my bruises, but the way I would be a shivering mess afterward was a big demerit.

On the plus side, the wolfsbane seemed to be wearing off faster than before.

"Good, you're up," Andromeda flashed me a fake grin. I rolled my eyes.

"This is getting old, you know?" I said, shaking my hair trying to get them off my face.

"You look like a wet dog," she commented.

"Well, I unofficially am," I pointed out, unbothered.

The thing with this 'couple' was that they hated my calm. They wanted to see me panic and break down. It was evident in the way they were constantly trying to intimidate me. My smiles, laughs, and carefree attitude was ticking them off. They wanted the satisfaction of seeing me cry and beg but I wasn't giving them that. 

And it was distracting them.

"Don't act smart with me," she scowled.

"Who says I'm acting?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"Bitch."

"That I am."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"No, I don't find it as easy to shut my brain off as you nincompoops do. I'm open to tips, though. I can imagine you have a lot."

She let out a frustrated huff, glowering down at me.

"This is getting me nowhere," she muttered. "I need to talk to you. Can you cooperate?"

I looked at her questioningly.

"I want you to tell me about mates," she elaborated.

"Did we not have this conversation before?" I pretended to be bored. 

"You telling me that Vincent will leave me as soon as an unspecified yet specific bitch comes into the picture is not a conversation," she stated.

"Fair enough," I relented, not risking my plan too much.