Winwolfa (A Roan x Female OC Fanfic)

Chapter 33

Sore muscles and an unfamiliar feeling of dampness woke Astrid from her unconsciousness. She was sitting on a wet floor, with her back against a cool stone. Pieces jutted out into her back. She tried to move her wrist, but found it shackled to the cobblestone wall beside her. After pulling at her a few times, she realized it was no use. Cold pressed against her neck as she tried to look around the dark cell. That similar sound of chains clanking echoed as she fought against the collar.

She was in deep shit now.

And she was pissed.

Oh, she was going to kill Roan. Gouge his eyes out, slit his throat, smash his skull against the wall. Whatever it took to get the message across. She couldn't wait to hear what stupid excuse he made this time.

If this was some petty revenge for leaving to attend the blockade, then he better pray she never got out of these chains.

Astrid became acquainted with the smell of mildew and sweat quickly. For the first few hours, she fought against the restraints that anchored her body to the wall. Her blood curling screams alerted everybody in fucking Polis she was there. Biting, clawing, and even using her own blood to try to slip out of the wrist cuffs wasn't enough. Her skin was growing raw from the chaffing, wearing her flesh down to the bone.

Perhaps this was the end of her fate. Everything she had done; it was for nothing now. The Prophecy, the Winwolfa, was gone. She'd die in a whisper, a sputtered-out flame, instead of a martyr. Maybe she was grateful for that. Violence in her name would only cause her to turn in her grave. If she ever got one.

She always thought she'd die in some glorious battle, or as some old crone surrounded by her loved ones if she was lucky. Being floated seemed so peaceful compared to what laid before her now. She had spent years in that cell on the ark, but this... the slow drip in the corner, the musty smell, the foot falling above her, ignoring her cries... This felt like insanity.

Ontari would take her time killing Astrid. For killing Queen Nia, her mentor, she would make it a slow, painful death. Rotting in her own skin, or the calculated torture with Ontari's blade, maybe break all her bones over and over again until she was nothing but mangled flesh. 

Astrid had a feeling though, when the day of her death arrived, Ontari would make a spectacle out of it. Just as Astrid did for the Queen. Post her up in the courtyard surrounded by hundreds of people from the clans and force them to watch the blood spill down her throat as she slit her neck. Maybe Ontari would make a fool out of her in battle. Like kicking a wounded animal. 

All sounded miserable. How ever she would die, she knew it would be cruel. A heaviness settled into her bones as she finally stopped fighting.

Darkness finally arrived through the small slit in the chamber. Astrid couldn't see her own shaking hands once the sun set. She felt that same darkness as her eyelids fluttered closed and allowed her body to rest against the sharp edges of the wall. The only position allowed that didn't wind up with a dislocated shoulder. There was a subtle thumping in her head barring her from rest, probably from dehydration. Her throat, scratchy from screaming, craved any sort of cool liquid about now.

Just before she succumbed to her exhaustion, heavy footsteps padded closer to her cell. She didn't have the energy to move. Could barely look through the slit in her eyes. A warm orange glow forced her eyes wider, only to meet a shadow figure looming over her.

Rage allowed her to feel awake again.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She seethed quietly, despite the protest from her raw throat. Chains rustled slightly against the wall as she positioned herself to look at Roan, who slouched against the wall across from her. Despite the light that flickered against his face, she couldn't read the expression on his face.