Chapter Twenty-Four

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Dawn was scared but more than being just scared she was also angry. Mad as hell. And she was also worried. Worried sick about Brie because Brie wasn’t in the same room as she was in. Dawn had tried to find her scent in the air but there were too many foul scents in this place, clogging up her nostrils, for her to be able to smell Brie.

Urine, feces, sweat, fear, blood and sex. She smelled all those things in the air. Her nostrils burned with them as she sat chained to a wall in a small stone room with a wide, heavy, wooden door. The bars at the top of the door awarded Dawn with a view of a dimly lit hallway and a guard, a guard that looked much like a rotting corpse, was standing with a heavy axe in his hand.

Dawn gagged at the sight of him and quickly averted her gaze. She felt the pain in her body as the wolf yearned to come out. She was scared. This room was too small and the walls seemed to be closing in on her. Suddenly she understood Farrah’s ranting about walls doing that very thing.

She breathed deep through her nose and pulled at the chains holding her wrists behind her back but it was no use. Even her added werewolf strength wasn’t enough to break these chains.

Dawn was worried about Grange. Had he survived? Was he coming? And if he came, would he be able to save her life without having his own life ended?

She was worried about Brie as well. Where was she? Was she even still alive?

Dawn remembered the horror of being in that cellar, hearing the lock on the heavy door break as it was jerked open. She remembered seeing those long legs with that heavy coat whipping around them, coming down the rickety staircase.

Dawn had fired shot after shot, but she had been shaking so badly that only one or two had actually struck the elf with the long white hair. Brie had become frozen at the sight of Faugrimm. She had begun mumbling and curled up in the corner of the room, offering no resistance when Faugrimm had slapped her.

Dawn had flown into a rage and had jumped on the elf’s back, raking her nails across his face and drawing blood and a pain-filled hiss from the elf before being thrown against the wall and knocked unconscious.

The next thing Dawn remembered was waking up in this room and that had been, at her best guess, two days ago or so.

Dawn had been surprised by her treatment by Faugrimm. Yes she was kept chained, which kept her from shifting because her shoulders would break if she tried, but she had been allowed to bathe and change her clothes and had even been fed several large meals a day.

Faurgrimm had asked her name but she had spit at him and that had made him laugh. He had only come in that one time, asked her name, asked about her mate and wanted details about Brie and Nickolai but Dawn had refused to speak and he had simply left.

But his brother, Beechum, was a different story. He liked to touch her hair and he was always present when she washed herself, which she was forced to do every couple of hours. He would stand in the corner and simply watch her, his eyes dark and roving as he would lick his lips repeatedly.

She had snapped and bitten him the first time he’d touched her cheek but this had only excited him and so now she merely swallowed her vomit and stared off into space when he was around. She refused to give him any kind of enjoyment.

She was wearing only a white shiftdress, it was short and thin, similar to the one that Brie had been wearing when she had first arrived at the cabin.

Where was Brie? Was she okay? And if Grange had survived and was coming then what was taking him so long to get here? The pain became intense as her bones started to change and Dawn closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to stop the shift, focusing instead on Grange’s handsome face and crooked smile in her mind and imagining what their child would look like.

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