THE CONFLICT #2

CHAPTER 6

EMMALINE

It is a prison cell - of that I have no doubt. The thick iron bars stretch the length of where the wall should be across from the bed. I’ll grant it is certainly fancier than the cells I’ve seen before. A large bed sits smugly in the centre of the cell, covered with thick blankets and accompanied by soft rugs on the floor to keep the chill out. A separate bathroom provides a level of privacy and im astonished to find hot water and clean towels. This is certainly not what I expected my jail cell to look like in the least. But the bars are here to remind me who I am. Along with the unsettling feeling that I am never getting out of here. Certainly, this is better than how we treated Zelus and that little s**t Pallas, who were both poisoned with Silverbrane to keep them weak and chained to a wall by their limbs and neck. I had the guards remove all the chains on Zelus, except the ones on his feet and wrists, when Novena went to see him. I had watched her from behind a two-way window in his cell. I heard what he said to her about the mate bond… about the scent. She is human, but she could smell his scent regardless. It is a strange thing to consider, but consider it I have and all its done is trouble me more. I have a window in my cell too, probably reinforced with bullet proof glass or the likes, but at least I could see the forest that stretched over the hills surrounding us and the peaks of buildings in-between. At least I could see the night sky that cloaked the land in darkness and the twinkling stars that seem so familiar. I woke up a few hours ago and I have a pretty good guess where I am. How much time has passed however, is beyond me. But I am willing to bet at least a few days. A few days or perhaps even a week of being sedated is the amount of time they would have needed to get us to the Norths palace. As of yet, I haven’t touched the trays of fruits and vegetable soup with sliced bread that had been brought a little after I woke. Mainly because the vile smell of whatever drug they had used makes me feel sick. My mind has warped and clouded since my eyes opened. Too sick to lift my body from the pillow for any other reason than to relieve myself. I am beyond thankful when the blonde-haired blue-eyed girl presses a cold drink to my lips promising a relief from the aftereffects. That had been a little over half an hour ago. Thinking of the tray brings it back to my attention and despite my discomfort I pick a handful of grapes and place one in my mouth, letting it’s juices explode on my taste buds. When I don’t gag, I eat the rest of the bunch of grapes. I decided to wait a while before I try the rest. My mind still can’t fathom the events of my last known hours before all this blankness. I continuously find myself wondering after Corax. Knowing he must be fine if I am still alive but still concerned that he will do something stupid to try and save me. He was no match for Phobos. I remember seeing him fall. I remember my heart stopping and my fingers stilling on the window. I remember looking up into the coldest eyes I've ever seen. The look I found there was murderous. He looked at me as if I had destroyed everything good in his life. I know I should probably rest. My eyes droop even as I sit here, attempting to be alert. Finally, I relent, knowing I couldn’t defend myself now even if I wanted to. I lay down on the soft bed and closed my eyes. Allowing myself to retreat into a troubled sleep, I find little sanctuary in my unconsciousness. My dreams are a battlefield of their own – one with violence, pain and a man that embodies a silver wolf.