Today, I’ll pretend I didn’t mess everything up irrevocably with the one girl I shouldn’t care for but do anyway.
Forty-Six
CHRISTIAN
The darkness presses in around me, thick and suffocating, and I can’t help but think it’s alive, swallowing every last bit of light and hope.
My breath comes fast and shallow, but the air is stale—stagnant.
Everything inside of me wants to give in, wants to wither away and fade into the darkness. But I won’t. I can’t.
Not when she’s out there, waiting for me.
Izzy.
Her name is a flicker of light in this crushing void, a memory I hold on to like a lifeline. I can feel her, even here. She’s waiting for me out there in the real world, and I’ll be damned if I don’t find my way back to her.
I grasp at the bars of the cage, the cold metal biting into my skin. But I know—deep down, I know—that this cage isn’t made of steel.
It’s made of me.
Made of my fear, my guilt, and my damn wolf that wants to consume me.
A wolf I haven’t seen in a very, very long time.
I wonder if it’s still out there, stalking prey in the darkness. Sometimes, I swear I can hear a growl or a roar, but the noises are faded, as if coming from the opposite end of a long tunnel.
I have to find my way out of here, out of this relentless darkness.
And then I see it.
A crack.
It’s small, barely noticeable—just a tiny fracture in one of the bars. But it’s enough.
Enough for me to latch onto, to see a way out.
I lunge towards it, my fingers scraping against the cold metal as I work, twisting and pulling. My muscles scream in protest, my body weak from the constant struggle of imprisonment, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not when I know Izzy is out there somewhere, enduring who the hell knows what.
The bar finally gives way with a sickening snap, bending under my strength. I tear it free and squeeze my body through the jagged gap. It’s small, but my time in captivity has lost me more weight than I care to admit.
My breath comes in ragged, shallow gasps as I push myself through, forcing my way into the oppressive darkness beyond.
Somewhere in the distance, my wolf growls, and fear clenches my heart.
Does he know I’m free?
I place my hands out in front of me, but the darkness here is strange. The cage… It’s illuminated with blood-red light. Everywhere else is darkness. The air feels thick, too, like I’m treading through knee-deep tar.
But I did it.
I’m free.
Then I hear it.
A voice.
Soft, fragile, but unmistakable.
