Shadow of the Beast (Twisted Dark #2)

Chapter Three: Brute Force

I stared up at the male, glancing between him and my bag of gold. I wanted to hit him, do something, anything, to get him to let go of what would buy my freedom. "What witch do you want?" Not that I could help him anyway, I was stuck and couldn't lead him anywhere even if I wanted too but he didn't know that.

He lowered the bag slightly as he stared at me with those clear and burning blue eyes. "Ye know which magickal bitch I'm talkin' about." The bag lowered a fraction and I snagged my hand out but he yanked it back just as quickly, my fingertips just brushing the velvet. I let out a sound of frustration as his mouth curled upwards. "Ye ain't gettin' yer gold until I get my witch." He held the bag above his head, his knuckles almost brushing the wooden beams of the shop's roof.

I glowered at him, huffing slightly. "I don't know which one you are talking about." I crossed my arms over my chest. The werewolf was just a vexing as Miranda. I had no clue why people liked to play mind games with me. I didn't see what appealed to them about it. It was frustrating.

His chest rumbled darkly, reminding me of just what I was glaring at, "I have ways of makin' ye talk, pixie, ye don't wan' me t' use 'em." It was a thick warning, his accent growing stronger as his rumbling increased.

I swallowed hard and slowly took a half step back, needing the space between us so the fear wouldn't overwhelm me. "Contrary to popular opinion, us witches don't just know each other. You need to be more specific." I didn't like the tone in his voice, it made my skin crawl, reminded me of another werewolf who made me talk. I slowly rubbed at my arms, backing up further. I never wanted to endure that again.

"Its clear ye do, pixie." He gave a harsh gesture to the room we stood in. "Yer workin' for her." At that, my face paled and I felt like my knees had turned to jello. He wanted Elder Irma. He moved closer, nearly looming over me as he bared his teeth, the golden glint of the gold in his ears and the white gleam of his teeth dividing my attention as the rest of his form seemed to darken around me. "I wan' the witch. Yer gunna take me t' her."

I felt like I was prey underneath his gaze and I swallowed hard before attempting to steel my shot nerves. I just was not comfortable with such a dangerous creature so close to me. Especially not after the last one. My eyes darted to the table where Florence had tied me down so her werewolf could torment me at his leisure. I felt my hands slowly start to shake as the fear soured in my stomach.

"Ye are gunna help me, pixie, one way or another." The tones were low and ominous and I snapped my gaze back up to him. My mind raced with how I could tell him that I was incapable of leaving the shop and couldn't actually tell him where Irma was.

"This might be hard to believe." I gave another swallow, my throat dry with fear. "But I don't know exactly where she is." I watched as his eyes narrowed and I shifted on my feet, getting ready to bolt. I knew that look, Florence's werewolf had that look before he had used his claws on me. He took another step and I flinched downwards, almost huddling into myself. "Please do not hurt me!" I couldn't help the terrified words that came out, my heart beating in my ears as I practically cowered on the floor.

He immediately backed up, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me. "I ain't gunna hurt ye, pixie." His voice was low and gruff as he stared. I felt my cheeks heat up as I slowly stood up, moving another step back from him. I didn't want to be in the same room as him, not with that fucking table. I glanced at it and back to him. I could just imagine him pining me down and his claws digging deep into my flesh. Bile rose up and touched the back of my throat at the memory of just that. "I doono what ye are thinkin', pixie, but ye look sick." I swallowed hard, pressing a hand to my mouth hard as if that would stop the rolling of my stomach. "Yer gold for the witch. Tha's all I want." He jiggled the bag again and I shook my head.

I couldn't explain about the chain or the spells and I didn't dare take my hand away from my mouth. I was afraid that I would throw up if I did so. I didn't want that, to be covered in vomit before he mutilated me. My heart thumped unpleasantly hard in my chest as the space seemed to grow smaller, my skull squeezing.

"Jus' take me t' her." His voice was a low rumble that seemed to ripple the air between us and I blinked up at him before my hand dropped. I felt very faint.

"I can't." Stuck once again but this time I couldn't tell my potential tormentor the answers to his questions. I would be mutilated and tortured and wouldn't have anyway to stop it.

"Ye can." At that I just shook my head, looking at the floor before I pressed a hand to my forehead, cursing myself. I should have been stronger, should have been able to look him in the eyes and tell him to fuck off but I couldn't bear the thought of being killed like that again. I never wanted to die by another werewolf's hands ever again. "Fuck this." His voice was a sharp sounding weapon and before I could dart away he grabbed me around the waist and carted me out of the backroom. "Ain't gunna take me t' her, I'll draw her t' me." I struggled against his grip, my breaths coming in violent pants as I tried to escape.

I looked up and realized the door had come into view and I braced myself right as my chain was pulled tight around my ankle and I was yanked back. I bit back a yelp of pain as it dug into me as he gave another tug, looking down at me with confusion. He grabbed me tighter and gave a steady pull that had another cry of pain escaping me from the chain nearly cutting into my flesh before I reached up and managed to slap his ear. "Fucking stop!" He immediately dropped me and I scooted backwards, lifting up my skirt slightly to rub at my sore ankle, the skin raw and marked but not broken. I was thankful for that. Those wounds took a very long time to heal.

I became aware the werewolf had crouched right beside me. I froze, nearly turtling as he reached around me, his hand grabbing my ankle before his thick and rough fingers moved against the chain, the contact making me jump. He made a noise in his throat before he found the line of chain. He looked between me and it. "Ye can't leave, can ye?" The question was simple and anger flared up brightly in me.

"That's pretty fucking obvious, isn't it?" I grabbed the chain and gave it a hard yank as if to punctuate my statement. I glared up at him. "Instead you had to try and caveman me out of here and that fucking hurt. This shit is like razor wi-" My throat immediately constricted, sending me into a violent coughing fit that had me gasping for air. I cursed the spells on the chain repeatedly as the feeling subsided and I felt like I could breathe. When I looked around the werewolf was moving towards the backroom, his hand following the chain. I stood up on slightly shaky legs and dusted myself off angrily. I was not having a good week.

I followed the werewolf as he reached where the chain was attached to the floor, he gave it an experimental tug, the chain looked like a gossamer spider web strand. Delicate and fragile but I knew just how strong it was. He gave it another tug, tilting his head as he looked at it. "That's not going to work, its spelled down." I got the words out right before that crushing force squeezed my throat again, sending me into another coughing fit.

It cleared up and I blinked rapidly, wiping at my red face as I looked at the werewolf who was looking down at the stone where the chain was before he moved to the side and gave one heavy tug. The chain didn't budge. I slowly sat down on a barrel as I watched him ineffectively try to remove the chain from the stone. He tried numerous different ways to pull it and nothing seemed to work as he grunted as he exerted quite a bit of exertion to break the chain.

I thought he was giving up as he rolled his head on his shoulders make his muscles bulge before slowly wrapping the chain around his hand, bringing it closer to the floor. I watched, waiting for the chain to cut into his skin as he slowly pulled upwards, his neck and face turning red from the exertion. I knew he wasn't getting anywhere but then suddenly the chain flickered, going from the thin gossamer to the darker steel before flicking back. He gave another grunt, baring his teeth and my eyes widened as the chain flickered again and there was a small crack and the magick gave way, leaving him to tear the chain from the stone floor.

My mouth dropped open as he slowly unwrapped the chain from his hand, looking completely unbothered as he stretched the marked up appendage. "Magick doesn't beat brute force, pixie." He slowly looked at me and I blinked at the chain. My heart thudded in my chest before I glanced back up at him. My chain was free and the werewolf was the one who did it. I swallowed as I slowly stood up. There was only one reason the werewolf freed me and I knew I wasn't going to like it.

So I bolted for the exit.