To protect what's mine (Amalie) novel Chapter 178

**Guard 178**

**Chapter 178: Amalie**

“Time to go, bitch,” a male voice hisses ominously in my ear, his grip like iron as he jerks me upright.

A wave of panic crashes over me, freezing my limbs in place. It’s Thomas. The very name sends chills down my spine, a ghost from my past that I thought I had escaped. Desperation ignites a fire within me, compelling me to fight against him with every ounce of strength I can summon. I refuse to be taken again. Yet, the poison coursing through my veins is a treacherous foe, sapping my resolve and making my body feel like a traitor, shutting down piece by agonizing piece.

“You got her?” another voice asks, and through the haze of my blurred vision, I manage to crack open one eye. There, standing like a dark specter against the dim light, is Sam’s father, his expression inscrutable.

“Is the brat taken care of?” Thomas barks, his tone dripping with impatience as he carelessly throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

Oh, Goddess, not this again! Panic grips me as the bitter realization sinks in. I’m being kidnapped once more! I struggle to reach out to my mates through our mind link, but the insidious toxin in my system makes it impossible.

“There are enough rogues to wipe out the entire pack,” Jarrett growls, his voice a low, menacing rumble.

Ice floods my veins at his words, chilling me to the core. They’ve come with an army, a battalion of rogues, all focused on annihilating my pack and taking me away.

“Good,” Thomas replies, satisfaction oozing from his voice as he begins to sprint forward, my body bouncing against him with each step.

With a Herculean effort, I force my eyelids open, battling the encroaching darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. I cannot allow myself to slip into unconsciousness. I need to signal someone, anyone, that I am being taken against my will. The twins will never let me out of their sight after this, I think bitterly, a flicker of guilt sparking within me for putting them through this.

“We just need to get her over the border, and the witch will handle the rest,” Jarrett snarls, frustration evident as he lashes out at one of my pack members. In a swift, brutal motion, he decapitates the warrior without a second thought.

If I had the strength, I would have screamed at the horror of witnessing my brave warrior fall. He didn’t deserve this fate, and my heart aches for the loss.

“I know that,” Thomas hisses, his focus unwavering as he trails after the other traitor.

“They’ll stop you,” I manage to mutter weakly, the words barely escaping my lips, my voice hoarse and strained.

“Oh look, the bitch is still awake,” Thomas sneers, tossing me onto the ground like a discarded rag doll. “Dose her again.”

“Anymore and we could kill her,” Jarrett warns, pulling out a syringe with a calculating glint in his eye, his intentions clear.

I freeze, dread pooling in my stomach at the sight of the needle, a harbinger of my suffering.

“She just has to survive long enough to get her to the witch. The witch will perform the ceremony as soon as she arrives,” Thomas taunts, his voice dripping with malice. He plunges the needle into my shoulder, pushing the plunger down with a sadistic grin that sends shivers down my spine.

In an instant, my world shifts from a chilling numbness to a searing inferno. I realize, with a sinking feeling, that I have been overdosed with Wolfsbane. I remember learning about it in school, or perhaps it was Thomas and Marie who educated me while administering small doses of the poison. Or was it Melissa, slyly slipping it into my peanut butter?

Everything hurts. Every nerve in my body screams as the fire spreads through my veins like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. The pounding of my heart drowns out all other sounds, a relentless drumbeat echoing in my ears.

Don’t black out. Stay awake, Amalie. I need to stay awake. Goddess, this is becoming unbearable. If I mean anything to you at all, please help me. If not for me, then for my pup!

“You are my chosen; you can save yourself,” a commanding voice suddenly breaks through the haze of agony, resonating within me like a beacon of light in the dark.

“How the hell am I supposed to save myself when I’m dying from Wolfsbane?!” I retort to the voice, fighting against the pain that threatens to consume me. Whatever is happening, it needs to end soon, or my pup will be lost too.

“You have my powers,” she replies, amusement lacing her tone, as if my predicament is an entertaining puzzle.

“Great! I’m dying, and I have your powers,” I snarl, frustration boiling over, my anger a flicker of defiance against the encroaching despair.

“A mere plant would not kill a goddess,” she points out, her voice steady and unwavering, a contrast to the chaos around me.

I’m about to scream that I am not a goddess when the realization hits me like a bolt of lightning. She’s right—no simple plant could kill her. It could weaken her, yes, but not bring about her demise. Francesca once told me I have magic flowing through my veins. What if I could harness that magic to cleanse myself of the poison?

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