Chapter 171: Three Years Later...

"Your Grace, for how long will you stay like this? You understand that you will be locked in here if you don't get a grip."

Ida was sitting on her calf, staring at Hugo on the other side of the metal bar. It had been two weeks since she started visiting Hugo in this prison. And every time, he would lash out at her. He barely made a conversation with her or replied to whatever she would say.

But she kept on going to him. Even if he hated her, accompanying him was enough to sustain his life. 

Hugo raised his head, hands and feet bound by the shackles attached to the wall. His hair was blocking his vision, but he knew it was Ida again. Usually, he would be cursing the living hell out of her or just screaming. But he was tired after his continuous outburst.

"Why do you reject me so much?" she asked and the only reply she got was a mocking laugh. "I didn't do anything to be hated." Ida hung her head low, hands clutching her skirt. 

"Seeing you for the first time, I also felt it. My mind instantly told me, you're my soulmate. I also wanted to hold your hand, to look at you closely, and to embrace you as if I missed you," she continued in the same tone, raising her head to look at him through the gap between the metal bars that separate them. "It didn't really matter if you're married before we see each other. The fatal attraction... it's scary."

"Leave," came out a ridiculing voice. "If you're seeing me every day, expecting that I will accept you as my mate... over my dead body. I can't fucking stand you. If I get out of here, you're the first person I'll find and shred you into a million pieces."

"It's not my fault that she left you."

"Out."

"You know she isn't your mate, yet you still married her. That must mean you were confident you can control yourself when you see your mate, correct? But you failed. At the end of the day, you were stricken with a sickness --"

CLANG!

Ida was cut short when he pulled an arm, causing the chains to clang against each other loudly. But her expression remained the same; cold, distant, and unapologetic.

"You underestimate it, Your Grace. This fate they all call and is easily accepted by the majority of the werewolves," she asserted calmly. "If it's so easy to go against your fate and reject your destined mate, why do you think others have to suffer leaving their previous lover for the person they just met?"

"Stop blabbering. You're making my head hurt. Just go away, will you?" Hugo indifferently laughed. "Stop going around in circles and just state your point."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, staring at the mockery plastered across his ungroomed face. "Between death and accepting me as your mate, what will you choose?"

"Death." His answer came out almost immediately, without a second hesitation. 

"Really?" Ida nodded in understanding, standing up back to her feet. 

His brows knitted when she gazed at him for a moment instead of leaving. She then grabbed the lower half of her dress, lifting it up ever so slowly.

"Even if you stand butt-naked in front of me, I will not take you. Stepping so low will..." he trailed off as his eyes narrowed at her exposed legs. "What the...?"

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Ida studied the confusion in his eyes before letting go of her skirt. What she did next truly baffled him. She took out a knife she kept hidden in her skirt, tossing it inside the cell. 

"You understand our difference, Your Grace?" she asked, watching him raise his head at her. "If you choose death over me, then keep choosing death. But at least, choose a pretty death. It's pathetic when you just lose control and get overwhelmed by emotions."

She paused, taking a deep breath as she walked closer to the cell. She held on to the metal bar, leaning her face closer. 

"You don't let your emotions control you, Your Grace. You control your emotions." 

Ida and Hugo stared at each other for several seconds before she smiled wearily. This was the first time they actually had a conversation without him throwing a tantrum. All she could wish was for him to ruminate about her words of advice. 

"That is all I wanted to say." She curtsied politely before walking away. "I will tell you more once you get out of here. The next time we see each other, let's have a nice cup of tea."

With that being said, Ida left the underground prison Hugo was locked in. Meanwhile, as he listened to her fading footsteps, his eyes fell on the dagger she tossed inside. 

"That woman..." he whispered, reaching for the dagger while making the chains slide against the concrete ground. "... control your emotions and not the other way around, huh?"

Hugo was aware that once he get too emotional, he just lost it. But somehow, Ida's words and actions got through his head.

"That's how she does it, huh?" he mumbled before a faint laugh slipped past his lips. He wasn't laughing because of enlightenment, or he found her interesting. He was laughing in ridicule because he was a joke. 

Why the hell was he acting as if he was the only one suffering? He was devastated, yes, but so were the people around him. Rinnie as well. This separation wasn't just all about him. 

Despite that, he was still hurt and he would never forget this pain. This pain was killing him bit by bit, which slowly took the shape of hatred. He needed a reason. And his hate had become his main reason.

"Rinnie... you better go to a place where I will never, ever reach you..." he whispered weakly. "... because if I ever see you again, god forbid, I'll break you."

****

Three years later...

Hugo opened his sharp eyes ever so slowly. The first thing he saw was the high ceiling of the bathroom. 

'I fell asleep,' he thought, stretching his neck from one side to the other. His arms are draped over the tub he was dipped into, listening to the cracks of his neck would make. 

After stretching for a bit, Hugo planted his hands on the tub's rim to push himself up. As soon as his body came into sight, deep scars littered his muscular physique. For a werewolf to have such horrendous scars, even with their regenerative ability, the wound was surely deep and fatal. 

"How annoying to dream about the pathetic past after all this time."

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