Page 93

Water drips from the rusty ceiling. The drip, drip, drip noise matching the clattering of my teeth and shaking of my knees. The green moss on the walls indicates how damp this place is, taunting me like the guards standing at the doorway, rifles in their hands and with orders to shoot if we move.

My hands are bound behind my back with silver-threaded cuffs, the kind that burn just enough to keep my wolf dulled and my hope low. My ankles are tied too, tight enough to make running impossible, and Lina, my sweet baby, is curled on my lap, her own tiny wrists bound, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy.

I lean against the iron bars behind me that are the only support keeping me from falling into an abyss of self-loathing and self-guilt.

Tears well in my eyes and burn my eyelids, but I don't cry, because Lina is curled on my lap and has finally stopped crying herself.

If I cry, I'm assuring her that Julian has won. That there’s no out for us because for one weak moment, I decided to trust a madman.

I was stupid. I was naive and I…I put us in danger. I put my baby in danger.

Goddess, what do I do? What do I…

Lina shakes in my arms, and I wrap my hands around her to keep her warm. She’s silent and pale, her forehead hot against my arm, and since we arrived here, she hasn’t cried once.

Part of me is grateful, because that means the guards manning the doorway won’t shout at us.

The other part? It recognizes what’s going on with Lina.

My baby is scared. The kind of scared that has you withdrawing into your mind like a caged, hunted animal. She feels the kind of fear that takes away your voice and sinks its teeth inside your veins till you are nothing but a wreck.

“I-it’s going to be okay, baby. Mommy’s here.” My voice breaks, my emotions echoing through the room we are in with the same pain that is cutting through my chest.

The room we’re in is cavernous and cracked open by years of neglect. I can see broken chains still nailed to some of the walls. I can see the crimson blood on those chains as well as on the walls.

This place isn’t just an abandoned factory. It used to be something worse.

Maybe a holding cell.

Maybe something meant to break people.

Maybe the last place I’ll ever get to see.

And yet, even as the shadows close in, even with the scent of death in the air, all I can think about is Alaric. His hands, his voice, the way he held me like I was more than just a broken woman the last time we were together, and one question rings in my mind.

Will he come for us?

Goddess, please let him find us. Let him hold me again, just once more, before it’s too late.

I’m caught up in my mind, reminiscing about what Alaric’s scent is like, but it’s not enough to dull the sound of Julian’s footsteps echoing inside the room before I see him.

He stands in the doorway and mutters something to the guards, who nod and obey before leaving. His eyes land on me, and for some reason, I hold my girl close to my body.

Each step he takes toward us makes my heart leap and pulse in my mouth.

That sadistic gleam in his eyes, like someone who’s just snapped, tells me he’s not above doing anything to us to get his point across.

I can’t let him touch Lina.

I can’t let his guards take my daughter again.

She won’t survive.

I won’t survive.

And he knows that.

That’s the reason why he crouches where I'm seated on the cold and dirty concrete.