Chapter Seventy-Three: The Battle Beyond the Walls
Charlie drifted between consciousness and the suffocating grip of the drug-induced darkness that had her in its grip. Her body felt like it had been dipped in cement, heavy and unresponsive. Each breath she took was shallow, every muscle sore as if she had been thrown down a mountain and hit multiple rocks along the way.
The first thing she registered was the absence of dampness. The thick, moldy air from before had been replaced by something drier, but the underlying stench of rot and decay still clung to the space around her, letting her know she wasn’t much better off.
She lay still, her ears straining for any signs of movement, her breath slow and controlled as she listened. Silence. No murmuring voices, no echoing footsteps. She was alone in the empty room that she found herself in.
Cautiously, she peeled her eyes open, adjusting to the dimness that surrounded her. The room was small, more like a storage closet than a proper cell. The walls were cracked concrete, smeared with grime and years of neglect. Water stains streaked the ceiling, black mold festering in the corners. The air was stale, suffocating, as if no fresh air had reached this place in decades.
A thin, stained mattress lay directly on the floor beneath her, its once-white fabric yellowed with age and misuse. There were no blankets, no pillows, no furniture. No chains holding her in place.
Charlie’s heart skipped when she realized she couldn’t make out a door anywhere in the small space, though she knew there had to be one or else she wouldn’t have been able to get in here to begin with.
She sat up slowly, wincing as pain pulsed through her limbs. ‘Raven.’ She reached for her wolf, desperation clawing at her insides. ‘Wake up.’
A whisper of a response. Faint. Distant. ‘Trying…’
Charlie gritted her teeth. She needed her wolf now!
Her fingers dug into the thin mattress, frustration tightening her throat. There was no way out. No door, no window, not even a vent large enough to crawl through. The only way in or out of this place was a mystery.
And then—
A blinding light exploded through the darkness.
Charlie winced and threw her arm up to shield her eyes as a panel in the wall slid open. A tall silhouette stood against the bright light beyond, her presence radiating the same cruel authority as before.
The dark-haired woman stepped forward, her boots thudding against the concrete floor as she crossed the threshold.
Charlie’s pulse spiked.
“Comfortable?” the woman drawled, her voice smooth but laced with venom.
Charlie didn’t answer.
The woman sighed, stopping just short of where Charlie sat. “You should know something, little Omega.” Her eyes gleamed with something between amusement and disdain. “If you try to escape again, you won’t get the luxury of a second warning.”
Charlie lifted her chin. “This is your idea of a warning?” She gestured around the empty room. “You locked me in a glorified tomb.”
The woman smirked. “And yet, you’re still breathing.”
Charlie’s fingers twitched at her sides. ‘Wake up, Raven.’
The woman crouched in front of her, tilting her head as if she were studying something weak and pitiful.
Charlie refused to cower.
“You don’t seem to understand,” the woman continued. “You belong to us now. Your alphas—” she spat the word like it disgusted her, “—are never going to find you. And even if they do…” A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “It won’t matter. You will already be broken.”
Charlie clenched her jaw. “I won’t break.” She had spent years under the abuse of her mate’s father and pack, so she was used to the mistreatment of others and knew she could take whatever they tried to throw at her.
The woman laughed, a cold, hollow sound. “Oh, little wolf,” she murmured, reaching out suddenly and gripping Charlie’s face, forcing her to look into her chillingly dark eyes. Her nails dug into Charlie’s cheeks, sharp enough to leave marks, bringing the scent of her blood to the air around her.
“You don’t have a choice.”
Charlie growled low in her throat, but the woman only tightened her grip, causing blood to drip down her chin and neck.
“You will do exactly as you’re told,” she whispered, her voice like silk wrapping around a blade. “Or I will make sure you regret every breath you take.”
Charlie refused to flinch, to show this woman any fear. She met the woman’s gaze head-on, even as Raven whimpered weakly in the back of her mind.
Then— A loud crash sounded from outside of the room.
The woman’s head snapped toward the opening in the wall. Shouting. Snarls. The unmistakable sound of bodies slamming into walls.
A fight.
The woman shoved Charlie back, hard, before rising to her feet. She turned on her heel, striding toward the exit. Without a backward glance, she disappeared into the blinding light, and the wall sealed shut behind her, plunging Charlie into darkness once more.
For a long moment, Charlie sat there, her pulse pounding like a war drum against her ribs.
Then the sounds of battle filled the air.
She closed her eyes and listened.
There was snarling, the raw and brutal kind that came from deep within a wolf’s chest. The crunch of bone meeting flesh, the low growls that spoke of imminent death. Boots pounding against the ground, the distinct thwip of arrows slicing through the air, followed by guttural screams.
Someone was dying. From the sounds of it, multiple someone’s were meeting their end.
Charlie pressed herself against the cold stone wall, her breath shallow. The battle raged on just beyond her reach, and she had no way of knowing who was winning, or if either side would be better than the other.
Her mind reeled. Had Liam and Luther found her? Or was this something worse?
She curled her fingers into fists, her nails biting into her palms. ‘Come on, Raven. Wake up.’
A low, almost ghostly whisper drifted through her consciousness. ‘I hear… them…’
Charlie’s heart leapt. Raven was waking up.
Her wolf’s presence was faint but stronger than before, pushing past the lingering effects of the drug.
‘Just a little more.’
The screams outside grew louder. A heavy thud rattled the floor beneath her, followed by the thick, wet sound of something… ripping. A choked gurgle echoed beyond the walls.
Charlie swallowed hard.
Then—silence.
Her breath hitched.
No more snarls. No more battle cries. Just the sound of her own breathing and the ringing quiet that followed bloodshed.
Charlie forced herself to remain still, to listen.
And then—
A soft click.
She stiffened.
The door—or whatever it was—slid open once more.
Light flooded in. A shadowy figure stood in the entrance.
Not the woman.
Not her captors.
The old man.
The one who had been silent. Watching. Waiting.
His piercing gaze locked onto hers, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his wrinkled face.
“Time to wake up, little wolf.”
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