Chapter 187

Citlali's POV

I stumbled backward, my mind racing. I had to warn Rowan. I had to get him away from here before—

Rowan! I sent frantically through mindlink. Don't come! It's a trap! They knew we'd come! Run!

But the response that came back made my blood run cold.

Citlali! Rowan's voice was filled with panic. I'm surrounded too! At least eight wolf hunters! Front and back!

The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet. We'd both been caught. They'd set traps at both passages, waiting for us to split up.

And we'd done exactly what they wanted.

The wolf hunters advanced slowly, methodically, cutting off any possible escape route. I backed up against the iron grate, my mind desperately searching for options.

Behind me was the palace corridor—but that way surely led to more guards. In front of me were ten armed wolf hunters, their weapons gleaming with silver.

I was trapped. Completely, utterly trapped.

The scarred leader chuckled, a sound like gravel scraping against stone. "Don't even think about running. Your friend can't escape either."

He gestured casually with his sword. "We've set up a dozen traps throughout these sewers, just waiting for you wolves to deliver yourselves to us."

I felt my body tensing, preparing to shift. If I was going to die here, I'd die fighting. I'd take as many of them with me as I could.

But the wolf hunters had anticipated that too. The moment I began to shift, three of them threw their nets.

The silver net hit me like a wall of fire. Every point where the metal threads touched my skin felt like it was being seared with red-hot iron.

I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat as I collapsed into the filthy water. My body convulsed, every muscle spasming as the silver burned into my flesh.

I tried to shift, tried to tear the net away, but every movement only made it worse. The silver threads cut into my skin, and where they touched, my flesh blistered and blackened.

My hands scrabbled at the net, trying to find purchase, trying to rip it away. But my fingers were already burned, the skin peeling away in strips, and each touch brought fresh agony.

I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. There was only pain—endless, consuming pain that filled every corner of my mind.

Through the haze of agony, I felt hands grabbing me. The wolf hunters pulled me upright, and I felt cold metal closing around my wrists and ankles.

Silver chains. They locked them tight, and the metal bit into my skin, cutting through flesh until blood ran down my arms and legs.

The pain was so intense I could barely remain conscious. My vision swam, darkness creeping in at the edges, but I forced myself to stay aware.

I had to warn Rowan. Had to tell him to run, to save himself.

Rowan! I sent desperately through mindlink. Run! Don't worry about me! Please!

Please, just run!

But his response shattered what was left of my heart.

I won't leave you!

I could feel him through the mindlink—his determination, his fear, his absolute refusal to abandon me. And I could sense something else too.

He was fighting. Fighting his way toward me, trying to break through the wolf hunters who had trapped him.

Rowan! Run! Don't worry about me! I sent back frantically, even as the silver chains cut deeper into my wrists.

But his response was resolute, almost calm in its certainty. I won't let you face them alone.

I heard it then—distant but unmistakable. The sounds of battle echoing through the sewer tunnels.

A wolf's roar, deep and primal. Human screams of pain and fear. The clash of weapons against flesh and bone. The wet, tearing sound of fangs finding their mark.

Rowan, no! I screamed through mindlink. They're waiting for you! It's a trap!

If you die, I'll never forgive myself!

But he didn't respond with words. Instead, I felt his emotions through our connection—fierce determination mixed with a terrible, beautiful resolve.

Even if I die, he finally sent back. I'll die at your side.

I thrashed against the silver chains, ignoring the way they cut deeper into my flesh, ignoring the blood that flowed freely down my arms. I had to get free. Had to help him.

But I couldn't move. The chains held me fast, and the silver sapped my strength with every passing second.

The battle sounds grew more intense—more screams, more roars, the sickening crunch of bones breaking. I could feel Rowan's pain through our connection, sharp spikes of agony as silver weapons found their mark.

Rowan! I called out desperately. Please! I‘m begging you!

They're waiting for you! This is what they want!

I had to get free. Had to help him. But my body wouldn't obey. The silver was draining my strength, leaving me weak and helpless.

All I could do was listen and feel as Rowan fought for his life in the darkness of the sewers.

Then, suddenly, the mindlink went silent. Not gradually—not like someone slowly losing consciousness. It was abrupt, like a door slamming shut, like a candle being snuffed out.

The sensation was indescribable. It felt like someone had taken a knife and cut away a piece of my soul, leaving a ragged, bleeding wound where Rowan's presence had been.

Rowan! I screamed through mindlink, not caring that the wolf hunters could probably hear my physical voice as well. Rowan! Answer me!

Please! Please answer me!

But there was nothing. Just empty silence where his presence had been moments before.

I didn't know if he was unconscious or dead. I couldn't feel him anymore—couldn't sense his thoughts, his emotions, his life force.

The not-knowing was worse than any physical pain. Despair crashed over me like a wave, drowning me in its cold, dark depths.

I felt hands grabbing me, dragging me through the water. I fought them weakly, my strength nearly gone, crying out Rowan's name over and over.

"Rowan! Rowan!"

The scarred wolf hunter's voice cut through my cries, cold and mocking. "Stop struggling. Your friend is already dead."

He paused, then added with cruel precision, "Or close enough to it."

"No!" I screamed, thrashing against their grip despite the agony it caused. "He's not dead! He can't be dead!"

But my voice was growing weaker, and my struggles were becoming feeble. The silver had drained too much of my strength.

As they dragged me through the sewers, my last coherent thought was a litany of self-blame that echoed through my fading consciousness.

It's all my fault...

I killed Rowan...

I insisted on splitting up...

I killed him...