The Twelfth Moon || ✔️

31. A Dying Man's Wish

I gulped as I laid down my knife, having suddenly lost my appetite. My heart started pounding recklessly at the thought of having to meet with Dexter face to face. But if Aven had already canceled my training, I was sure I didn't have a choice in the matter. "What about?"

"See, that's gotten me curious as well," Aven said, still as coolly as before. "But who am I to refuse a dying man's wish?" That vicious smile appeared on his face once again, sending shivers down my spine.

"When?"

"Now." Aven motioned for me to get up from my chair.

I tried swallowing some nerves away, but to no avail. I got up with trembling legs as I followed Aven out of the dining hall. I didn't dare look up at Jerr when I passed his table, but I could feel his gaze burning in my back.

I stumbled after Aven, who was clearly in a rush. He didn't bother to check if I was following him. But he knew that I wouldn't dare disobeying him by not following him out that dining hall.

He didn't say a word to me the entire way we made. We were walking in the gardens surrounding the Manor, heading to the outer edge of it. We couldn't have been walking for a long time, when I saw a small building pop into view, with two men and one wolf guarding its entrance. I instantly knew that that was where Dexter would be.

Both guards stepped aside as soon as they saw Aven, after one of them opened the gates for us to enter. I silently followed Aven in the building, where we entered a small chamber, with nothing but stairs going down.

Aven hasted his way down and I followed suit, careful not to trip. The steps seemed to be more slippery the more we got down. The air around us chilled as well when we finally arrived at the last step.

"Welcome to our dungeons," Aven said, without even taking the effort to look at me.

We arrived in a hallway, where another pair of guards were stationed, guarding another iron gate. The guards did the same as their upstairs companions as soon as they saw Aven. They silently opened the gate and got out of our way.

The tang, iron-like smell of blood immediately flooded in the air and circled me and Aven. I guessed they kept Dexter weakened, to prevent him from using Agni's powers.

Other unpleasant smells, like sweat, urine and feces, hung in the air around us as well. I wasn't all that surprised, given these dungeons didn't look that hygienic in the first place.

I followed Aven to the back of the hallway, where Dexter lay in the last cell. All the angst I had, ebbed away at the petty sight of him.

He still wasn't recognizable. He was even more bloodied than before. His left leg was broken, bending in a weird angle halfway down his shin. I supposed now that he was stuck in this cell, he had no more use of his legs.

He was also prevented from fixing his broken bones, as both of his hands were bound by iron chains that hung from the ceiling. The skin of his wrists was bruised and had some deep cuts surrounding the iron cuffs, indicating he'd tried to tear his hands out. With his hands locked and spread above his head, he also wasn't able to transform. Not without ripping his own limbs off. The anatomy of a wolf wasn't capable of such turns and twists.

Another chain coming from the wall was adjoined to his neck. The same cuts and bruises decorated his neck, where his skin peaked out of the iron collar. They really weren't taking any risks.

Good.

Aven crouched down so he was on the same eye-level as Dexter. I stayed up, refusing to make myself inferior, or even equal, to Dexter ever again. Aven licked his lips before he spoke, the corners of his mouth curled up in that threatening menace. It reminded me of a wolf, waiting to finally dig into its prey, which was fitting in this situation. "You've got a visitor."