Trinity (A Werewolf Novel) ✔

Chapter Ten

           

I spent my days and nights captured in the same cycle that Roman demanded of me. When he was there, I was allowed to be somewhat free, as in no longer cuffed to the bed. When he was gone to deal with his and his surrounding packs, which was often and for long periods of time, I was left in that cuff.

The moon faded from that of the waning frown to an empty new moon, pulling me ever so much more closely to my future doom. I didn't feel any pain or sensations of impending horror, but I wasn't the type to doubt the dangers of the lycanthrope or their Goddesses. So I spent every chance I had on trying to pull myself out of my current captivity until finally I found success.

The cuff had worn through the wood of the bedpost enough so that with the proper force in my kick, it finally gave with a loud crack. I gasped in both pain and delight, and then hesitated as though Roman would find me out that very moment. When neither he nor any others showed up to stop me, I continued to work through the damage I'd done until my hand was free.

I looked at my wrist, still contained by the cuff. From what I could discern, I healed fairly quickly, but I wasn't truly allowing myself the time to heal. Instead, my wrist was raw and wet from blood every day as evidence of my attempts to escape. Roman was never pleased, but otherwise did nothing to prevent my efforts. And now he would pay for it.

Free from my containment, I immediately approached the bedroom window. I lifted it with ease, glancing at the ground quite far below before planning my escape. I turned and clasped the window frame before crawling through the opening with reckless abandon. I clung to every protrusion and dug my feet into any crevice until I finally was left with the option to complete the drop in a fall. I landed on my feet roughly, glancing around wildly.

I wasted no time in escaping into the surrounding forest. The sun was bright in the sky, but it did nothing to ease the cold of the winter around me. The floor of the forest was bare and hardened from the cold, waiting for the snow that would no doubt be arriving soon, and the chill sent shivers over my skin despite the adrenaline pulsing through me. However, I was free and because of that I found delight in everything.

I arrived on the outskirts of the village, following my memory to where the well hidden door waited for me. When I found it, I paused a moment, glancing in the direction Cynthia had pointed that would lead to my village. I hesitated only for a few seconds before my hand found its way to the mark on my neck. My home was no longer an option at this time.

I reached for the hidden door and climbed down into the pathway that would lead me into the abandoned temple. The further I got into the building, the angrier I became. I had been cheated. I was sent on a suicide mission under pretenses of Goddesses and paths, promises of doom, and only found my own in the process. I had many questions for this mysterious Cynthia.

I found the main alter room of the temple, where I had first met her, but she wasn't present. I began wandering through the temple, pulling on doors that held paths to places unknown. I considered calling for her, but didn't want to somehow be heard outside of the temple by any passing shifters.

Just when I thought about giving up on this particular quest, I found a passage into a particularly dark and mysterious room. The only light that illuminated the area was seemingly from a mesmerizing body of water in the center. At the edge of the water, Cynthia was seated on her knees, her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes closed.

I hesitated, something about the feel of the room whispering to that power within me. It was as though I could suddenly feel that water running over my skin alluringly and behind it was a call, like the song of a siren.

"Won't you join me, Mila?" Cynthia asked quietly, echoing her initial greeting to me not too long ago. I knew I had been searching for her in anger, but now that I had found her, it was as though the anger had dissipated into nothing. It was peculiar.