Enslaved

Chapter 43

The wild pounding in my head drew me out of my state of unconsciousness. I choked and quickly bent over to throw up, heaving everything out of my system and then coughed some blood; my blood. Pulling the hair back from my sweaty face, I groaned and fell back on the hard floor.

Hard floor

I stilled, all the past events finally catching up to me. I had lunged for that traitor in blind rage, almost killing the hunters restricting me. They had no choice but to inject me with silver and I was off like a log.

Pushing myself up, I sat against the wall; another groan tearing through me as I held my head which had started spinning from all the movements. After a handful of deep breaths, I was finally able to focus on my surroundings. And the moment I did, I wished I hadnt. I was in the prison cell straight out of my nightmares, but this time I knew it was real, very real. Everything was exactly how I had dreamt, from the tainted mirror to the shabby bed and blanket. I traced the flooring next to me and it was exactly how I remembered, every turn and curve. Glancing at the ventilator, I sighed.

The night had already fallen

And now since I was awakening bit by bit, all the panic was finding its way to me. This room wasnt just a figment of my imagination, it was real and I was the prisoner here. It only meant one thing, Dorian and the former High Queen were held here for 10 years and there was also a possibility that she died in this very room.

I shivered at the thought.

Were they trying to do the same to me? Make another Dorian out of Raph?

Raph!

My eyes searched the entire room, dread filling me on not finding him here. The recollection of last time making it hard for me to breath, Dorian had barely saved him.

Dorian

Where was he? Was he aware?

I was starting to lose my mind. Clumsily crawling, I collapsed against the door, making a weak thudding sound. From the shuffling on the other side, it was clear that they had heard it. Swift footsteps grew closer and then stopped right in front of the door, I could hear keys jingling and the lock turning. Familiar metal protesting filled the silence of the room as the door opened.

There was a man holding a dish to serve me, he was bald. Aged but radiated power. My mind was reeling, trying to remember something about him. Looking down over his nose, he shoved the bowl towards me, half of the blood splashing on the floor and turned to leave. He knew I was too weak to even stand, much less attack him. It wasnt until I saw the wolf tattoo etched on his neck that it all clicked. He banged the door loudly on his way out, like he did every time in my dream.

What is happening here? Out of all my dreams, this had to be the one coming true

I scowled and pulled the half empty bowl, sniffing it. Grimacing at the weakening herbs, I held my breath and drank it. I needed it to fight the silver in my system. Under normal circumstances, I would have gagged but right now, it tasted like ambrosia. It took all of my will power to stop as drinking excess of it will leave me crippled in its own way.

Panting, I dragged myself towards the mirror and leaned against it, looking into my own reflection. Idly tracing the writings on its frame, I hummed, the same tune the High Queen used to hum to my mate.

The throbbing in my head intensified, followed by ringing in my ears.

What the hell did they mix in it!, was the last thing I muttered before darkness engulfed me.

It was dark and damp. My eyes adjusted and I found myself surrounded in wildness. It was eerily silent, not a single sound. No chirping insects, no hooting owls and no flying bats. I was really getting wary of my dreams. Who knows what might come true next?