#Chapter 368 – Deeper In

Sinclair

“We have to get to them,” Roger snarls, moving towards a window intending to bash it to pieces, I know – but I grab his arm as he goes, pulling him back.

“The priests are not that stupid,

Roger,” I say through clenched teeth. ” If they can make the door disappear, they can make the windows solid – ”

“So what do we do,” Roger growls, frantic, as our remaining healthy men take advantage of the momentary reprieve to attend to the men who are wounded. I glance around, doing a quick survey and finding that about eight of our men are down. I grimace when I realize that two are not moving at all, or making any noise. But I look away from them fast, not needing the distraction.

“We retreat, I say, holding Roger’s eye, “or we move further in. But there’s a reason why they’re not attacking here – they’re letting us stay in relative peace because they want us to stay here. Which means they don’t want us to leave, and they don’t want us to go further.”

“What?” Roger asks, frantic and a little baffled, looking around. “Why don’t they just kill us? Why don’t they just -”

“Because they can’t,” I say, nodding as I figure it out. If they had more priests to send – enough to take us out – they would do it. But the fact that they’re not sending them…

got enough force on us that they can’t risk it. That we, somehow, outnumber or outmatch them. My wolf bares his fangs within me, eager now, on

his brows knitting together, still looking frantically for a way to get out, to get to

making him turn to me. “If you think I

need to pull it together. You’re not going to

his jaw clenched, but then he turns

and the second level where I suspect more are waiting for us, guarding…. something. Perhaps their

here, but they can’t hold us forever. So the only question is

on Roger’s tongue, can see Cora on his mind. And frankly, I’m tempted too. The idea that – well, that they want us to stay here means that

us than we thought they did. That they know that the

at the possibility, but I force myself to

putting the pieces together. “If they aren’t sending more,” he murmurs, meeting my eves, “it

ask, steeling myself for

nods his

line up before us, two of our healthy men falling back – as is part of their protocol – to continue tending to our wounded. I give brisk orders for the men to press forward no matter what. The

turn towards the stairs,

instead of a hallway or a door through which we can pass. When I get to the top, I press a hand

close, sniffing it.”

chest

considering. “We know, from our research, that the priest’s power comes from binding their wolves. Which means that…whatever they’ve accessed to create this kind of illusion…we have access to it

do you mean?” I ask, turning

he says, looking at me askance.

much

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