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.

palm. I peek through the crack, scanning the hallway beyond. Carpeted floor. Framed landscapes along the wall. Bright

eyes lock onto mine, set in a face carved from granite. The Lycan’s lip curls, revealing the edge of a fang, and I swear I can hear a

door shut and scurry back to my bed, breathing

Dangerous. That was dangerous.

happy to see me. I’m definitely a prisoner, not that I had much doubt over the situation. I may not understand why, but at least

sneakier, too. It would be nice if I could just disappear. In fact, if that damn wolf—Fenris—hadn’t come around in the forest, I’d be in the city by

Stupid, oversized, disloyal dog.

sharp knocks crack against the door and I jump as

bed in a moment so brief,

indifferent to my fate, "You will come with me

where I’m going, or why. Just a flat order, with no emotion on his

up, making it hard to breathe. After witnessing what happened to my former pack, the last

threads through his tone.

* * *

Everything’s different.

a pile of stuff from my window. It

shuffle past with downcast eyes, their shoulders slumped.

I’ve heard stories about the

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