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I had learned a good deal about the Church during my time of captivity. About the hunters. The other shifters lived in large packs akin to family units or even small towns, depending on the size of the pack. Most of them resembled normal wolves rather than mostly bipedal beasts like me. They were almost always headed by an alpha and his mate, and according to Claudia, I was something of an anomaly. Most of the alphas were not only in control of themselves, but sharper and fiercer than the rest of their kind.
I could understand why Castor had been so eager to bring me back to the Abbey. An alpha's blood was stronger than a regular shifter’s, which meant it had greater utility to the hunters, who injected into their veins a distilled form of the blood they took from monsters. I had also learned they did not take kindly to being compared to vampires, no matter how closely their habits seemed to align.
The only other prisoners in the dungeon were true vampires, and none of them spoke to me. I wasn't sure if they disliked me because of the enmity that seemed to exist between our species, or because, after speaking with Castor, I had been cooperative with the clerics. Before that, I had been stuck in my wolf form, so it hadn't been possible to speak with them at all.
For the most part, I had adapted to my new life, with one notable exception—the boredom was intolerable. I actually found that I looked forward to the daily blood collection, not only when it was Claudia. Even when the others didn't speak to me, save to give orders, they were more company than the vampires provided.
I was alone when the next shift happened. I couldn't remember the first time, so the agony that washed over me as my bones broke and my flesh turned to shreds to make room for the beast crawling from my skin seemed entirely novel. The entire process left me spent and panting on my side in the corner of the cell.
When the door opened not an hour later that evening—at least, I thought it was evening, considering the fact that I had shifted—and Arrow came down the steps rather than one of the usual clerics, fresh dread washed over me.
Not him. Anyone but him.
I resisted the urge to growl as he drew close to the cage, since I had no reason to think he was exempt from Castor's request.
I eyed the long metal prod in his hand. Between the two spikes on the tip was a continually flowing current of crackling blue electricity.
I backed up as far as the cell would allow as he drew closer, dragging the butt end of the prod along the cell bars. The metallic clanking sound they made was torture to my newly sensitive ears, but all I could do was grimace and hunker down, every strand of fur on my body standing on end.
"Looks like you made it back into your mutt form easily enough," he taunted, leaning with his elbows propped on the horizontal bar stretching across the cell door. "I hear you’ve been behaving yourself. What's the matter? Did Castor neuter you?"
I stared at him in silence, since he clearly wanted a reaction. It was admittedly difficult not to give him one in this form, and I could feel my human restraint ebbing away more with each second. It was a surprise that any lingered at all.
Maybe it was the blood. If the hunters gained strength from the infusions, it stood to reason I might lose it. It was a strange relief. If I was weak, which I certainly felt after shifting, that meant I couldn't hurt anyone. At least, I wouldn't have quite as easy of a time as I had before. Maybe I could even hold on to my sanity for a bit longer. Through the full moon, even.
That thought existed alongside the beast's mounting anger as Arrow pushed the prod into the cell. It was really more of a cage, and there wasn't room for me to move back far enough to escape the reach of the prod. The moment the electricity made contact with my flank, a furious snarl tore from my throat, and I snapped at the prod instinctively. I managed to catch the edge of it, and only realized that was his intent when another surge of electricity flowed into me through the bite.
With a strangled cry, I collapsed against the stone, and my body continued to convulse even though the current was no longer in contact with me. I could barely lift my head as I heard the cell door being dragged open, and the sound of it scraping against the floor felt like it was going to burst my eardrums.
Arrow stepped into the cell, brandishing the probe with a malicious grin on his face. "Here, mutt. You wanna play?"
I gritted my teeth, growling low as he loomed over me. He pushed the prod into my side and I gave another strangled yelp as another current shot through me. "Well?" he taunted, kicking me hard in the side with his steel-toed boot. Something cracked. A rib, no doubt. Maybe two. "Is that it? You don't have any fight left in you?"
It took all I had to keep the reins on the animal vying for dominance in my mind. It had never been possible before, but then, had I really even tried?
I whimpered low, not too prideful to appeal to his mercy, on the off chance that he had any.
"How pathetic," he scoffed. "Oh, wait, Castor asked you to behave, didn't he? Are you really willing to be humiliated on his account when he’s not even here?"
The mention of my angel’s name brought me back to my sanity, if only for the moment. It gave me the strength I needed to resist this devil’s temptation.
"Interesting," Arrow mused. He pulled something off the belt at his side, and at first, it looked like a narrow cane. He flicked his wrist and it expanded into a long pole with a rope looped at the end. "All right, get up."
I stared at him in confusion as the current at the end of the prod died out, and he placed it back into its holster on his other side.
"That was a test," he said pointedly. "You passed, so get your ass up. I’m taking you upstairs."
I reluctantly got to my feet, if only so he couldn't do anything else that would prompt me to attack him. I wasn't sure I believed him that his taunting had been for some noble purpose, but what choice did I really have? I was the animal, and he was the one literally holding the leash.
It took some effort to get back on my feet, and when I finally did, my limbs were still shaky from the shock. Quite an intensive "test."
I hung my head instinctively as Arrow slipped the rope over it and pulled until it was tight around my throat. Not quite enough that it impeded my breathing, though.
I followed him out of the dungeon and toward the stairs the others traversed freely. They were difficult to manage in this form, since I couldn’t quite remember how to stand on my two hind feet. Not that the rope around my neck left me much of a choice. Being walked at the hunter's side was humiliating, but knowing him, that was probably half the point.
I wasn't sure how someone like him had become a cleric. Castor was cold in his own right, but not unnecessarily cruel. It was clear this one took great joy in inflicting pain—the more of it, the better. I wasn't sure where he was leading me, and he certainly didn't make any attempt to reassure me of his intentions.
When we finally reached the top of the stairs, they let out into a large hallway, and my paws hit the black-and-white tiles of the stone floor, which stretched on as far as I could see. It looked like a chessboard, and that was fitting enough, considering I had become a pawn of the hunters. It was, however, a fate less cruel than what I deserved.
