Chapter 9 CHAPTER 9
I swallowed and tried again, slower this time, angling the nail more carefully as I pushed it deeper into the lock. My hands shook, not just from the cold, but from the fear that sat heavy in my chest, pressing down on every breath I took. The metal resisted at first, unmoving, as if it had no intention of letting me go. I pressed harder, ignoring the sting in my fingers as I adjusted my grip.
The nail shifted slightly. Hope flickered in my chest.
I held a breath as I pushed pushed again, more controlled now, twisting it just enough to feel something inside the lock move. A faint click followed, so soft I almost thought I imagined it. My heart jumped at the sound, and I pulled gently at the cuff.
It loosened.
Not enough to free me, but enough to matter.
Relief rushed through me, quick and dangerous, and I had to force myself not to react too fast. I stilled again, my eyes lifting toward the door as I listened, waiting for any sign that I had been heard.
The silence stretched through the place.
I let out a slow breath and went back to work, more careful now, but faster too, urgency creeping into every movement. The nail slid deeper, my fingers tightening as I twisted it again, feeling the lock give a little more this time. The chain shifted, the metal scraping softly as my wrist moved within the cuff.
Almost. I was so close.
A sound echoed faintly from somewhere beyond the room.
I froze instantly, my breath catching in my throat as my head turned slightly, straining to listen.
It was distant, but it was there.
A heavy sound, slow and deliberate, like something moving through the halls.
My heart began to pound harder, each beat louder than the last, echoing in my ears as panic tried to take hold. He was coming back.
I forced my focus back to the lock, pushing harder now, faster, my control slipping as fear drove me. The nail scraped again, sharper this time, slipping slightly in my grip as I tried to force it deeper.
The chain shifted.
My wrist twisted. Slipped just a little more.
The door creaked. The sound cut through everything.
I froze, feeling the panic rise from within my core.
My breath locked in my chest as I slowly lifted my head, my body going cold as the door opened just enough for darkness to spill into the room.
And then he stepped inside.
My heart dropped so hard it felt like it stopped.
He did not rush in. He did not make a sound beyond the slow, deliberate steps that carried him into the room. His presence filled the space immediately, heavy and suffocating, as if the air itself shifted around him.
His eyes found me before lowering to my wrist and the loosened chain, then to the nail still clutched in my hand.
He knew what I was doing.
A cold wave of fear spread through me as my fingers slowly loosened, the nail slipping from my grip and landing softly against the bed. The sound felt louder than anything else in the room.
Final.
He reached back and closed the door without looking away from me. The click echoed through the silence, sealing me in with him once again.
He began to move closer in slow deliberate movements.
Every step controlled, measured, as if he had all the time in the world and nowhere else to be. His gaze never left me, not angry, not rushed, just steady and aware in a way that made my chest tighten.
That made it worse—much worse.
I pulled my arm back instinctively, even though I knew it would do nothing. The chain rattled softly, the small bit of freedom I had gained now meaningless under the weight of his presence.
He stopped beside the bed.
Close enough that I could feel him, the heat of him, the weight of him pressing into the space around me. For a moment, he did nothing, said nothing, his gaze still fixed on me as if he was studying every reaction, every breath, every movement I made.
Then, slowly, his hand lifted.
And reached for my wrist.
His grip was firm, but it didn’t hurt. He pulled me closer, lifting me halfway up toward his chest with ease, like I weighed nothing. My breath caught as he leaned down, his head lowering to the side of my ear. The scent of him washed over me—blood, earth, and something darker, something I couldn’t place but felt dangerous all the same.
This was it.
He was going to kill me.
I could do nothing but wait for it. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and no strength left in me to fight.
His fur brushed against the side of my face, warm and unexpectedly soft, sending a shiver down my spine and raising goosebumps across my skin. He inhaled slowly, deeply, as if taking in my scent, and stayed like that for a few unbearable seconds that felt far too long.
“Careful, little hunter… you don’t know this place.”
His voice was low and deep, rough like something unused, yet clear enough to send a chill straight through me.
“I am not the only monster that lurks in these forests.”
The words settled heavily between us.
I felt the blood drain from my body.
He could speak.
This entire time… he had understood everything.
I stared ahead, frozen, my mind struggling to catch up as the reality of it sank in. He had heard every word, every plea, every breath, and had chosen to say nothing until now.
Still unable to speak, still trying to process it, I barely noticed his hand move until it reached for the chains around my wrists. His gaze dropped briefly, taking in the bruises forming beneath the metal.
For a moment, something shifted in his expression.
Then his grip tightened around the chain.
And with a single movement, he broke it.
The metal snapped apart like it was nothing, the sound sharp in the quiet room as the weight around my wrist fell away.
I didn’t move, I didn’t as much as even breathe.
Because somehow…that scared me more than the chains ever had.