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When we finally break apart, our breaths mingling, there’s a shared vulnerability in our gaze. Lily’s cheeks are flushed, her expression a mix of uncertainty and something else – an undeniable chemistry that was impossible to ignore.
“I... I’m sorry,” Lily stammers, her voice soft and uncertain, her cheeks flaming red. “I shouldn’t have... I didn’t know… we just…”
I reach out, placing a finger against her lips to silence her. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. It’s just… you know, one of those things.”
Our eyes meet once more, and in that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between us. The kiss has unveiled a side of our connection that neither of us could have anticipated. But the jangle of her chains reminds me of what we’re doing here, why we’re here, and what all of this is for. I shoot backwards. We can’t do this; we shouldn’t.
“I… I need to get out of here…” I stammer as I rise to my feet. “I should clean this all up. You know how it is.”
She blushes brightly, which only makes me feel even worse. I need to get out of here before I end up doing something crazy. She’s making me feel wild, animalistic. I feel like I’m losing my mind. The more I look at her, the crazier I become and that isnota good place for me to be. Shit, what have I done?
5
LILY
The Next Night – Full moon
I siton the bed in the small room, trying to come to terms with what’s happened to me. Yep, I’m still here, still in this room, still waiting to find out what’s going to happen next. My senses are attuned to the world beyond the walls that contain me. The howls of distant wolves reach my ears, carried by the wind that whispers through the night. The sound is haunting yet strangely comforting, a reminder of the untamed wilderness that lies just beyond my reach.
My gaze shifts to the window – a narrow opening that offers a glimpse into the world outside. The window might be big enough for me to fit through, but it will be a tight squeeze if I even try. Not that I can because I have these hot damn chains clinging to me. I keep finding myself drawn to it, the yearning for a connection to the outside world tugging at me.
At night, the view through the window is always shrouded in darkness, the inky blackness of the night sky stretching infinitely beyond. The moon’s silvery glow casts eerie shadows, and the howls of the wolves seem to echo through the night, a symphony of nature’s untamed beauty.
The inkiness is different during the day. Then, the window offers a different perspective. The warm yellows of the sun spill over a distant stretch of green grass. The sight is a stark contrast to the confined space of my room, with the walls closing in on me.
I hate this. I can’t take it any longer. I need a way out.
Tonight, the full moon casts its silvery glow through the small window of the room, painting the space with an ethereal light that gives me a little glimmer of hope.
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding with anticipation and an underlying desperation. The full moon is my chance, my moment of release from the bonds that hold me captive. Instinctively, I close my eyes, summoning the power within me to shift into my wolf form where I will be able to shatter these chains and run before Ryker and his pack can do anything else to me.
But as the moonlight bathes me, I feel nothing change. Panic stirs within me as I focus on the transformation, on the sensation of fur replacing skin, of bones reshaping. But there’s nothing – no shift, no release. It’s as if an invisible barrier is holding me back, thwarting my attempts to break free. What the hell is going on here? Why have my powers seemed to shrink to nothingness?
Frustration and confusion churns within me. Shifting is a part of who I am, a fundamental aspect of my nature. I’ve always been able to harness the energy of the moon to shift, to embrace the wildness within me. But now, in this crucial moment when I need it more than ever, that connection has been severed, leaving me trapped in human form.
The implications of this realization are staggering. Fear whispers at the edges of my mind. Is this some kind of curse, a hex placed on this room to deny me my abilities? The weight of my situation intensifies as the realization settles in, and I feel the walls closing in on me.
With a sigh of resignation, I open my eyes and gaze out the window, the moon’s glow a constant reminder of the power that has eluded me. But in the midst of my frustration, a new sense of determination wells up within me. I can’t afford to dwell on what I can’t change.
Change gears, I tell myself. There has to be another way. The moonlight can no longer be my source of liberation, but that doesn’t mean I’m powerless. I have other skills, more knowledge, and the support of my pack. Even if they aren’t here right now.
I turn my attention to the room itself, examining every detail. The window, the door, the walls. I need to find a vulnerability, a weakness that I can exploit. I know that waiting for rescue isn’t an option. I have to be proactive. I have to make an escape route if I want to get out. Tonight, preferably, because Ryker and his pack will likely be shifted and out running the woods.
My eyes settle on the window. It’s a potential escape route, but the challenge is evident. The space is tight, and squeezing through it might not be possible. But what else can I do?
I quickly scan the room, searching for any objects that can help me. My gaze lands on a wooden plank leaning against the wall. It’s part of a make-shift shelf that has been left behind. An idea takes root in my mind. If I can use that plank to widen the window just enough, maybe, just maybe, I can squeeze through to get away. I’m willing to try anything at this point.
With a surge of determination, I move towards the plank and grip it firmly. Using all my strength, I begin to work on removing the nails that hold it in place. It’s not easy, and each nail seems to resist my efforts, but I refuse to give up. The sound of the nails coming loose echoes in the room, a rhythmic symphony of hope and determination.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I manage to free the plank. With a glance at the window, I realize that it might work. I position the plank against the frame, wedging it in place. It’s a tight fit, but I can see the wood starting to give way, just a fraction.
I take a step back, my heart racing. It’s not a perfect solution, but it might be enough. I move towards the window, wedging my fingers between the frame and the plank, pushing with all my might. The wood groans in protest, but then, finally, there’s a moment of triumph – the window widens just enough for me to squeeze through.
Adrenaline surges through me as I realize that I’ve created my own escape route. If I can get these chains off me, that is. Shit, I didn’t think about that. I pat myself down frantically, searching for anything to help me, when my hands find something in my pocket. A small, inconspicuous tool that holds the promise of liberation. A simple hair pin! The moon’s silvery light glints off its metal surface as I examine it, my fingers steady with a mixture of resolve and hope.
With my heart pounding and nerves zig zagging in the pit of my stomach, with a singular focus, I insert the hair pin in the lock. The metal protests as I manipulate the pin, my hands guided by a mixture of skill and intuition. The seconds stretch to minutes as I work, each slight movement of the hair pin, a dance of finesse and precision.
Finally, I feel the lock give way, causing a rush of triumph to surge within me. The chains fall away from my wrists, the sound of their release a whisper of freedom in the stillness of the room. My wrists have been marked by the imprints of the restraints, which is just wonderful – a horrible reminder of all that I’ve been through. Just what I need.
