Page 100 of Untamed

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30 - The Lake

Willa

I trace the light grey lines that crease the stone wall in perfect rectangles. Idly I wonder about these stones. So perfect, souniform; unvarying, stable, monotonous.

I feel like the wild the Weasels claim me to be stuck in this cage. My she-wolf is hidden away, deep in my mind. There must be silver in here. Mama told me about silver, although she only showed me silver once. A delicate strand of steel, a necklace, with a small pendant dangling on it made of silver. I remember how she kept it wrapped up in brown leather, hidden deep at the bottom of the chest at the foot of her bed. The pendant was shaped like a tear with a light blue stone in the middle. She only brought it out once, but I still remember the feeling of lethargy that swept over me when I touched it.

Mama said silver could burn shifted wolves. She told me that it's worse than walnut poison to adults. I angrily wipe my finger over the bottom of my nose to keep the tears away. Silly female, how even the thoughts of poison remind me of my male.

I'm so cold. I haven't seen anyone else in hours. The sun set long ago, leaving the moon high and the air colder and colder. My fingertips that are still running over the stone are turning paler. The nails tinged just slightly blue.

I'm cold, thirsty, hungry, and I'm all alone. I bite the inside of my cheek. I won't cry. I refuse to shed even one tear in this dismal place. The Weasels will know that I'm not weak.

Trees and branches creak in the sharp autumn wind. This grey stone room has no warmth to it, and it's leeching the heat from my body frighteningly fast. I crawl as close to the window as I can, grateful that I can see outside, even if it's just the dark, moonlit sky. Shivering so hard, I can hear my teeth crack against each other. I look up into that dark sky.

Color makes me smile. Leaves, blown by the wind, fall through the bars and onto the floor. Dark tendrils of the branches of the nearby tree brush against the grey stone prison. I can just reach the tiny twigs, my fingertips touching the tree's littlest fingers in the lightest caress.

The tiny sound is like a mouse creeping along. Shaking madly from cold, I watch the small trail of dust pile higher and higher onto the grey floor. It's painstakingly slow as my friend scrapes away at the weak lighter grey stone creasing between each block of harder, darker stone. I would help, but my claws won't come with how deep my she-wolf is hidden.

Footsteps echo down the corridor, and I crumple under the window, over the dust. The heavy manacles on my wrists fall with a heavy clank to the ground, making me wince.

Rooster walks into the room with an odd gait. It takes me a moment, but then I realize that his swagger is gone. He looksfurtive; secretive, covert, stealthy. Stronger. Immediately, I flash a snarl at him. Rooster being so sneaky can't be a good thing for me.

He kneels in front of me with my chains in his grip, keeping my wrists pinned to the floor. "My sister is being held prisoner by our mother and the alpha,sí?"he whispers harshly. "Alpha Blout...he's a cruel bastard. This pack is blinded to his bullshit."

I pull backward, the first time I've flinched from Rooster. His words are so unexpected. His sister? What is happening here? The layers of these wolves run deep.

Rooster inhales with a frustrated breath. He starts to fiddle with chains, examining my shoulder where the sting bit me, holding my chin, and looking carefully at my eyes. All the while, he talks. "Blout's been Jessie's lover since I can remember. He's been playing with her mind for her entire life, and she's so fucked, completely broken,sí?She thinks I'll rape you just to fuck with Tarkik's head. That's some truly crazy shit, there.” He blows out that breath while I watch him, confused.

"Tarkik was supposed to die and didn't. His mother did it, did you know that? The fucking Mauja have been in bed with Blout for years. Isn't that some crazy shit? Blout... he knows all about what happened, and he's just been waiting like a spider. Now he thinks he can use me to end Tarkik and take over the north. And... the best part? Your mate is going to paint the ground with their blood, and this will finally finish.”

Hands that seemed weak when he was hurting me are strong as he grips my face between his fingers. "You are stronger than any female I've ever met in my life. You're a fuckingbebita,and you just... I can't even find words to describe you. When you bit offMama’sfinger? Fucking priceless. Tarkik was always a tough bastard. He would grow up to be unbeatable, and it drives Blout crazy. He has no idea that you're Marked as that crazy motherfucker's mate. He has no idea that you're a real Wild. I've kept that info from him. Tarkik will eat Blout for lunch, but you need to save Abbi, understand wild-child?"

I growl, a low rumble deep in my belly. "You need to remove your fingers from my skin before I show you 'biting,'" I warn him. My voice is low and hoarse. Even my throat is too cold.

He chuckles, his eyes wide, but his fingers fall away. He presses something into my hand. "This is Abbi. Make sure you're ready, little wild-child. Save my sister."

He leaves me shivering on the ground with my fist clenched around the photograph of one of the females who had come with Weasel and Ant the first time I saw them. I frown at her picture. She gave my Mactiirlooks. I don't like her.

I look at the chains piled where Rooster let them fall. He freed me from them and didn't hurt me. I huff. One good deed deserves another. Now I have to help his sister.

I look back at the window as the first twig breaks through the stone and curls upward, crumbling even more of the thick wall as if it's made of paper. Rooster will have to wait. First, I have to leave this grey room and get warm. Then, I need to find my Mactiir. He's probably worried about me.

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Inuit

My mate. My hellcat. My luna. My golden female.

She is cold. I can feel her shiver, feel her she-wolf curl up into a fetal ball, trembling as if she's outside in a snowstorm. My mate is trapped with silver, so she can't even shift to stay warm. They must have her locked away in a cell with nothing for comfort. The silver mutes the connection between us, except that I can still feel her. The bond is growing, stronger, and stronger.

I may allow the Mauja to shift to paws before I kill them. That way, I can skin them for their fur to keep my golden hellcat warm. No... even better... I will skin themalivewith my claws.

I reach out between the seats and twist the heater off. If my mate is cold, then we won't be warm.

Rhet says nothing, wisely. In the passenger seat, Elias rubs his hands together, and I know it's not because he's trying to stay warm.

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