The Lycan King's Fate Calling

Arron's POV:

When I gave Sally the gaze of fear, I knew I should keep my mouth shut. From earlier until now, I had been frantically trying to save myself.

These kidnappers discarded my wristband and other valuable items, but I still had my plastic shell bracelet left. Mommy made this and gave it to me. Beryl also had one. The bracelet looked like a children's toy so they didn't touch it.

What they didn't know was that this bracelet wasn't just a toy. Mommy put a little blade in one of the shells so we could defend ourselves in times like this.

She was afraid that Beryl and I might cut ourselves on anything more intricate, and she also figured that we wouldn't understand how to use them, so she just put this small blade in. She also cautioned us against using it for anything other than an emergency, when we could slacken the rope and signal for help when the bad guys were distracted.

When the little girl was taken away just now, the kidnappers went out briefly. I used that time to sneakily pull out the small blade and try to cut the rope.

However, Sally's sudden question rendered me too afraid to move again. I quickly hid the blade under my sleeve, afraid of being discovered.

"Another mute?" Sally glanced at me disdainfully and squeezed my mouth as an obvious hint of disgust flashed on her face. "Can a mute be a vase boy?"

"If he can't speak, just cut his limps off as well." The red clown mask werewolf decided my fate again.

hands and feet were severed.

heard their voices, I broke my silence. "I'm

was taken aback, and she gave me a painful pinch despite the bandages on

old." I didn't dare to make Sally unhappy, so I answered her

that this devious woman thought

Sally patted my head satisfactorily and asked me to call her mommy. "I'll

three melted sticky sweets out of her pocket.

survive, I went

decisively stuffed

into my

boy in front of me and forced him to call her "Mommy" in the same way. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on

inconsolable, crying uncontrollably with streams of tears, snot, and spit. Sally was fed up with crying. She

the boy was a fool, how

cry and struggle, which made

turmoil