Chapter 40
Chapter 40: Silver Saviour
I wake up in my dismal prison cell, feeling utterly drained. Fragments of that dream still linger, teasing my thoughts. The silver wolf from the forest, whose heart was connected to mine in the dream – I’m sure it’s the same one. It’s got to be. He told me he owed the Vasiliev family a debt and that’s why he’s helping me. But how does he tie into Aleksandr? What’s their connection?
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Mircea’s words echo in my mind – something about weaving two strands of hair together, binding two souls. It’s a spell, I’m sure of it. But the det elude me, like grasping at shadows.
Was it just a dream, or a glimpse into the past? I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this.
Most hauntingly, Aleksandr’s image lingers in my mind. I’m grateful for even a dream of him, even if it was fleeting.
I lie here in this etemal darkness, hours stretching into eternity. Time down here in this cell has no meaning. No windows, no natural light. I never know if it’s night or day. I can hear the footsteps in the church above, the villagers gathering, singing hymns, the priest’s thunderous sermons on hellfire eternal damnation.
Screaming would be pointless. They know I’m here, locked away, a prisoner right beneath their feet.
After what seems like ages, I hear the heavy footfalls of boots on the staircase above. The taller guard, Filip, comes into view, followed closely by the other guard, lacob. They peer into the cell as if doing an impromptu inspection, avoiding eye contact, brusque and irritable. Wow. I guess last night’s threats from Mircea must’ve rattled them. There’s none of the usual taunting or torture. None of the groping, the touching…
My mind slips back to what happened in my cell last night, before Mircea intervened. How turned on I was, with both guards jerking off to the sight of my naked body. The delicious feeling of waving my dripping wet pussy in their faces, burning with desire, wanting more than anything to feel a long hard cock thrusting into me, taking me over and over again.
I behaved like an animal.
The shame and humiliation momentarily colours my ch*eks, and I have to fight the urge to avert my gaze and hide away.
- NO. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I won’t let these cruel, evil, weak men control me or define me. They are the ones who should be ashamed. They drugged me to get me horny for them, a barbaric and cowardly thing to do.
And so I muster all my
so I muster all my bravado and try to put on a brave face.
“50, what are you two doing down here so early?” I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Not planning on trying to rape me again, are you?”
“Just checking if you’re still breathing, on Father Codrin’s orders. Dinner’s in three hours,” Filip replies, a stoniness and hollowness to his voice, totally void of emotion.
“Dinner, great,” I say sarcastically. “I assume this time you won’t be spiking my mead with mediaeval rohypnol or whatever that was
They exchange sheepish glances before departing, their footsteps echoing as they ascend the staircase.
As they depart, I hear Filip mutter to lacob, just loud enough for me to hear, which was probably on purpose: “It’s not long now… just two more nights, and then the cunting witch burns. Praise be.” His friend laughs, and they are gone.
I flop back onto my makeshift bed of rags, impatience gnawing at me. Mircea said she had some plan to help me escape this hellhole. I’ll need a
miracle, and I’ll need it soon.
“Come on, any moment now, Mircea…” I think to myself with a weary sigh
An hour creeps by in this damp cell, and then it happens – a commotion from upstairs. My first thought is that it’s the guards, finally here with my dinner, but the noises are all wrong. There’s a thump, like a struggle, a muffled cry, the sickening crunch of bones breaking, and a gurgling scream
choked off.
My heart races as the soft footsteps descend the stairs. Mircea comes into view, clutching the keys to my cell. I look up the wooden staircase, trying to make sense of the chaos above. And then, it hits me that scent.
A fragrance so enchanting it nearly brings me to tears. It’s like nothing I’ve ever smelled before, a blend of wood smoke and mass, pine sap and leather. Nostalgia washes over me, tugging at my heartstrings. It’s comforting yet mysterious, like a midnight bonfire in the forest, like Christmas, like winter.
Chapter 40 Siver Saviour
I’m drawn to it. mesmerised by its inexplicable hold on me.
Then, he appears. The silver wolf, the one who saved me in the burning silver like molten moonlight.
e forest. Blood splatters his neck and muzzle, bright red against shining fur, his eyes
As he reaches the bottom of the stairs, a sense of raw energy fills the dimly lit chamber. The air seems charged, as though nature itself holds its breath He stands there, the magnificent silver wolf, his paws on the cold stone floor. Then, with a series of astonishing and surreal changes, the transformation begins.
Bones snap beneath his skin, a symphony of eerie, otherworldly sounds that echo through the underground chamber. It’s as if every part of him is rearranging itself. His body elongates, fur shifting and rippling like liquid mercury. His limbs stretch and contort, elongating to become more human- like. His wolfish face contorts, snout shrinking, and eyes reshaping
It’s a metamorphosis that defies the laws of nature, a shape–shifting spectacle beyond anything I could have imagined. My
y heart pounds in my chest as I watch, unable to tear my gaze away from the mesmerising and awe–inspiring sight before me.
His transformation is not just physical; its a shift in essence, from a wild creature to something more. As the final changes take place, he stands before me in his human form, the same silver–haired man from my dreams.
Naked and radiant, his silver eyes lock onto mine, holding me captive. He murmurs words in a language I don’t understand, and suddenly, his nakedness is gone, replaced instantaneously with clothes before I can get a good look at his spectacular body. The outfit is entirely out of place in this mediaeval town – a modern, stylish, black leather jacket, dark jeans highlighting his muscular legs, rugged leather boots, and an open–collared deep green shirt.. Leather wristbands and tousled silver hair complete the look. He cant be much older than me, maybe twenty–one or twenty–two. A black tattoo winds up from under his shirt, a stylized Norse wolf under a full moon.
Hes devastatingly attractive, a rebellious bad boy with a wicked glint in his eye. And that intoxicating scent is overwhelming now, making my knees tremble.
“You’re… uh… the wolf that saved me from that ghost creature… thing in the forest?” I ask stupidly, lost for words. “it’s really you?” This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.
He just nods, no hint of ridicule.
“But then, what are you doing here?” I manage to ask, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. “You said you couldn’t come into the village.”
“That was before,” he replies solemnly.
“Before what?” I inquire, though I already sense the answer deep within
“Before I found out you were my mate, he declares.
Mate? The word echoes in my mind. It can’t be true. How could I be?
“But I’m not like you, I’m not a werewolf,” I stammer, grappling with this bewildering revelation.
“It doesn’t matter,” he insists. “We’re bound. You are my mate, and that gives me the authority to break through protective wards and boundaries to
claim you
Bound… that word… I recall the incantation Mircea whispered in my dream about binding two souls together with strands of their hair. Before she left my cell last night, she’d plucked a strand of my hair and taken the red dress I wore that fateful night in the forest… the dress that might very well have been covered in wolf fur after the silver wolf saved me…..
My mind races, piecing it all together.
“That’s right,” Mircea chimes in sheepishly. “It was the only way to save you, Arianna. With the Moon Goddess’s blessing, you and Luka are now mated, granting him the power to break through the protective spells of this place.”
Luka lifts me effortlessly, as if I weigh nothing at all, cradling me in his arms. “You’re safe now, mute,” he says, determination in his eyes. “Let’s go.”