Forever Mine

FORTY EIGHT

Roxy and Cleo scurried to their feet when the door was flung open. The moonlight in the sky above said it was still early. A cold dread seeped through her when one of the guards opened the cell with a key while the other stood watch in case the she-wolves tried to escape. Levi had said tomorrow night. She scurried against the back wall when the burly guard approached her. A black sack was in his hand and he looked like a cowboy trying to coach a skittish horse as he approached her. Roxy's breathing hitched when she was backed into the corner, her shoulder blades smacking into the freezing bricks. She willed for her wolf to explode and tear the guard to shreds, but she was still nowhere to be found, silenced by the wolfsbane still in their system. As long as it was in there, Roxy was any ordinary human.

The guard was closer now, the sack at the ready while his yellow eyes glowed. How do human girls defend themselves? When the guard was inches away so that his foul-smelling breath fanned upon her, Roxy let fly with her foot, connecting right where she wanted it to. The guard gave an agonising shout and keeled over, but before Roxy could reef her foot away, his large hands wrapped around her ankle. His angry eyes snapped onto her and a wicked grin spread across his face when he yanked at her ankle. Both Roxy and Cleo screamed when she crashed into the ground, making her ribs ache and her vision tune in and out as her head collided with the ground. It wasn't until she looked down, she saw that her ankle was now swollen and bruised, the guard's finger marks wrapping lines around it. Another injury for her collection.

'I'm tougher than you now, sweetheart,' growled the guard before roughly shoving her head into the sack.

Not giving up, Roxy thrashed about in the guard's arms as he yanked her up from the ground. A blazing pain shot up her leg from her ankle when she put weight on it. She continued to thrash around, the thought of what Abaddon had planned for her keeping her fighting spirit alive. The deal she'd been planned to make with him was no longer on the table. Both her and her sister were going to escape. Moonlight Ridge and Saltwater Woods would come, in fact she was sure they were long ago on their way. Cleo would be with Trent again, and they would welcome their firstborn. She would be with Isaac. But she didn't know what it was like to be beatable and weak, and her face screamed with pain when a hand was smacked across it through the fabric.

'If you don't stop being a little bitch, I'll do the deed before I get you to the leader!' snarled the guard behind the fabric. Roxy whimpered, letting her body obey the movements as she was tugged along. 'Get the other one. She's not as feisty.'

Roxy could feel Cleo close behind as they were led out of the cell. It brought her small comfort to have her sister with her, not wanting her to go through the same thing she was about to. The witches were cackling with glee and Roxy wished she had another flame torch to throw into their cell. The fire had burnt for most of the night, giving Cleo and Roxy a solid few hours of peace as they huddled in the corner with fear. Stupid witches.

The creaking of the door told Roxy they were being led outside. The air was cold and she could smell the swamp nearby faintly. The guards' steps were authoritative and heavy while Cleo and Roxy's were slow and clumsy. Grimacing, she moved her wrists in the new rope which now bound her wrists again. The itchiness of it was torturous, more torturous than lying on the cold bricks of the cell. In fact, she'd prefer staying in that cell rather than be led to the rogues' leader with a bag on her head.

Roxy expected for them to go inside the manor, but instead their footsteps began crunching on gravel and she could feel the overhanging branches of the dead garden beds brush past her. They were out the front. The driveway. Were they being taken elsewhere? Isaac and Trent would never find them. Gulping, she tried to replace the image of Abaddon's face with Isaac's when the fear of being hidden away further consumed her. It was no use though, Abaddon's freaky missing eye taunting the darkness of the bag.