The Lycan King’s Second Chance Mate by Sumi

ASHANTI'S POV.

My eyes snap open and I squint up at the early morning light peering through the small window hanging above on the other end of the wall. It appears I spent the night on the floor where it smells like ice and metal and dirt. My flesh is numb from all the cold that has sipped into my body as a result of sleeping on this floor all night and I feel my muscles pull and crackle as I struggle to sit upright, still squinting because my eyes are still getting used to the sudden light peering into the dark, cold room.

The warden didn't return when he left yesterday after our little brawl when I nearly refered him impotent so I had to spend the night without eating the food that was brought to me. I had no blanket to cover either. Right now, my stomach is a tortured put of starvation and I'm shivering as I thought I just stepped out of a pool of ice cold water.

I am cold and tired and hungry and miserable. My throat is tight with something familiar to me. Something I've learned to swallow each time it crawls out from whatever pit it hails from. My hope is exhausted. Maybe I'm just going to die in here for real.

The sound of approaching footsteps raise my dwindled hopes. At the speed of light, I jump up to my feet and go to start by the cell-door. In my heart, I'm praying for those footsteps to belong to no one else but Alpha Reagan. How I wish he's the one coming to release me from here.

But, just like the last time, all my hopes are crushed when the familiar warden shows up, his face darkened with a fat frown. I gulp nervously and take a step back.

"You're awake." His voice is gentle,vyet dangerous. I don't say anything to him. "You look miserable, juts like you should. I hope you drank your piss like I asked you to." He keeps talking and my eyes never leave his face as I think of the many ways I could hurt him if I just had access to any part of his body right now. The man seemed to have learned his lesson yesterday because he's standing at a safe distance from the cell door. There's no way to for me to get in physical contact with him in any way.

Smart pants.

my normal posture which is sitting on my butt on the floor with my knees curled up to my chest and my back leaning against the cold wall. Another set of footsteps are heard, but I don't have the heart to feel enthusiastic about who's approaching and I thank my stars for that because I would have gotten another heartbreak after seeing a female servant arriving with

intestines start in riot in my stomach. I swallow dryly as I watch her hand the tray of food to

asks in a singing voice and I look up at him, begging him with my eyes to give me my food, but he doesn't. The wicked man sets the tray aside and to my greatest horror, pulls out the tray of

shocked as I avert my gaze from the tray of food to the man. There's a wicked smirk

food. Why did you keep aside and serve me this one which was brought

you. Cold, stale food. Murderous like you don't deserve to eat like

going to

me and I look back at the tray. The food looks disgusting and I'd

Alpha Reagan, if he had marked