Page 52 of The Wolf's Captive

Ignoring our discomfort, Victor took off his coat and hung it on a nearby iron hook. “I’ll cut those chords with magic, one by one. You must stay strong, channelling your magic into the ground so you don’t lose your connection.”

“Now that you’ve explained it,” one of the women said, “it’s pretty genius.”

Dismissing her claim with a wave, Victor cleared his throat, opened his arms and started a slow chant. My hands shook as the circle started to fill with warmth, the magic rising up to the ceiling. Victor had complete control of the events that were about to happen. As long as the council kept the werewolves in check, hopefully, fucking hopefully, today might go well.

The words suddenly died down and Victor turned to Malone. “Tell Nigel to bring them in.”

Voices sounded on the other side of the door, a couple aggressive, one sarcastic. Malone went over and opened it, allowing entrance to our enemies.

Slowly, one by one, the wolves were led in. Most of them had their heads hung, staring at the ground as they walked in. Their chains clinked loudly, bashing against the stone floor.

I hadn’t even considered that they might not have been on board with Kieran’s plan. Had they been forced, against their will? Or were they now regretting everything after being locked up for over a month?

“Victor Roberts,” Nigel greeted as he followed Kieran into the room.

My stomach rolled as Kieran dragged his feet, his resistance minimal considering he had threatened to kill himself just to get to me. Had he finally realised that the game was up?

“Nigel.” Victor inclined his head in a bow. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Rolling his eyes, Nigel shook his head. “Likewise. Let’s not pretend we’re both gaining from this transaction."

I didn’t pay attention to the rest of their conversation as Kieran began to lift his head. His cheeks were rugged red and his nose was dripping with snot. His hair had grown out and was matted at the back of his head. He was another example of how power could make a person ill. At least Drake had never reached that level of madness, even in his darkest moments. My brother had always come back to me.

Ducking my head, I avoided Kieran’s gaze. I couldn’t think of my sibling at the same time as looking at the arsehole.

Drake had wanted to come, just to protect me. However, it was deemed too dangerous. Several werewolves, from our pack and the council, had surrounded the property in order to protect us. Drake, although a strong witch, would be out of his depth.

“Della,” Kieran whispered as the clank of his chains being tied echoed around the room. “Are you okay?”

I frowned at his question, baffled by his sincere voice.

Malone stepped closer and hissed in his direction, a threat accompanied by the raise of his lips.

“Silence,” Victor ordered, “it’s time.”

The werewolves who had escorted the prisoners into the room went to stand by the wall, their stances strong and their minds on high alert.

Malone stayed near me, hovering in front of the door. He glared at Kieran, watching the man’s every move. I didn’t dare to look behind me, too ready to get the spell over and done with.

“I’ll start this end,” Victor announced, pointing to the first girl. “And move my way down.”

He started chanting a spell, his voice growing louder. Nigel stepped back, leaving Victor to stand alone in the middle of the room, right in front of us.

The energy in the room intensified, the heat growing and making me sweat. I stayed where I was, relieved that I didn’t have to perform any magic of my own, other than grounding into the Earth.

Allowing myself to relax, I pushed my magic out through my spine, burying it deep in the dirt beneath the building. My chord was strong, binding me to the origin of my power.

The hiss of Kieran’s breath almost made me smile. Yes, it would be uncomfortable for the werewolves, who weren’t used to our way of life. The pull of energy from them and into the Earth would be painful. Good. The arseholes deserved it.

“It is done,” Victor breathed, his footsteps alerting me to his movement.

Opening my eyes, I watched the warlock approach the first pair. They were connected by a long ice blue string that sparkled.

The tug of the chord that stretched out from my back made me feel sick to the stomach. It wasn’t a natural connection, it was barbaric.

The shimmer of another chord caught my eye. It was flowing from my chest and to the left, where Malone… was disappearing out of the door, his eyes wild as he bent his head to look at me.

What the fuck?