Chapter 19: Grace: Aftermath

The rest of the morning passes without incident.

Or food.

My stomach growls. The clock on the wall ticks past noon, and each second is another twist of my belly. It’s been over a day since I’ve eaten, but at least I have free access to water now.

Small mercies.

But I can’t stay in this room forever, can I?

My fingers tap against my lower lip as I stare at the door. It’s a standard wood-grain door, probably hollow, with a simple knob. Nothing extravagant or strange, and yet my heart stutters at the thought of what lies beyond it.

Life isn’t the same anymore. Alpha’s dead, and I’ve lost all protection. What do Lycans do with humans? Alpha never let me see them before, saying it was dangerous. It’s clear that’s one thing he didn’t lie about. Honestly, the fact I’m even alive when so many are dead...

"This is ridiculous." My voice is soft in the silence, but speaking at all seems to build my courage to push off the bed and ignore how my legs shake as I take one step, then another.

The brass doorknob is cool under my palm. I curl my fingers around it, but my grip trembles.

My stomach growls again, loud enough to echo off the walls. The sound startles me out of my frozen state, and I open the door. Just a tiny inch of space, not really enough to peek through.

I press my ear to the gap but hear only silence. No footsteps. No voices. No breathing.

under my palm. I peek through the crack, scanning

carved from granite. The Lycan’s lip curls, revealing the edge of a

scurry

Dangerous. That was dangerous.

I’m definitely a prisoner, not that I had much doubt

be nice if I

Stupid, oversized, disloyal dog.

the door and I jump as the red-haired

eyes flicker to the bed in a moment so brief, I’m not sure

my fate, "You will

No information on where I’m going, or why. Just

to my former pack, the last thing I

Harper." Steel threads through his tone.

* * *

Everything’s different.

the bloodbath remains. Vaguely, I recall a pile of stuff from my window. It didn’t seem very important while a

a funeral in here. Pack members shuffle past with downcast eyes, their shoulders slumped. No greetings

a dead pack, and that’s exactly how they’re acting. I wonder what our fate is now. I’ve heard stories about the Lycan King, to

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