Dangerous Lycan: Claim Betrayed Luna’s Second Chance Mate

The rhythmic thud of uniformed boots indicated the presence of guards, their obvious strides reflecting authority. On the other hand, the non-guards put on a display of stylish leather shoes, each step resonating with a distinctive rhythm. Some wore flowing robes that hid their footwear, adding an additional layer of mystery to their identity.

As I awaited the night, I positioned myself on the floor. I knew just what happens at such times of the day. Most of the slaves that worked in the building as maids are ordered to give food to certain prisoners or people like me who are locked against their will in a dark room. As the brisk evening settled, I relaxed, my eyes tightly shut, creating the delusion that I was still under the influence of the tranquilliser.

In the dimming dusk, I still acted as though I was overwhelmed with the wavering tiredness. The calmness of the room masked the surge of tension that passed through me. I listened carefully, adjusting to the subtle voices that pointed to the approaching footsteps, an indication that dinner was on its way.

My body stayed motionless as I tried to control my already thumping heartbeat. I watched the silhouettes of the floor beneath the door which only showed that time was near. As I lay in obvious stillness, it was as though time became longer and the anxiety of uncertainty grew even with the hushed air.

The door creaked open, and so did the hinges betraying the entrance of the maid and the light rushed in. Through my closed eyelids, I sensed her presence, navigating the room with the usual rhythm of routine. The aroma of dinner wafted in, it was the usual stew and bread slices but this smell was more on the good side.

I remained still, and listened to the maid’s movements, gauging the closeness of the tray with food. As she approached, I still maintained my stillness as if still induced by the tranquilliser although I had begun to move my limbs a bit, little tweaks from my fingers and my head.

Everything reached its peak as the maid, unaware of my plan, set the tray beside me. The room still maintained its calmness concealing the fact that beneath my closed eyelids and a seemingly motionless body, I was very much awake.

“Please, put it closer,” I implored, my once authoritative voice now transformed into a weary, thin whisper. Thirst and hunger clung to me, a temptation I didn’t want at the moment. Even though the weight of holding up this child had drained every ounce of strength from me. The misery in my plea echoed out through my tiredness.

In the dim light, my weakened voice held up the weight of genuine need. The plea was not just for food because I knew I needed to be free. The once-commanding tone was now low and soothing, a reminder of what I endured at least that was what I made her think.

I observed a slight change in her behaviour, from an unconcern attitude to a tinge of sympathy. Initially, her eyes reflected the suspicion I had grown used to-believing, perhaps, that my plea was just another prank. The familiar sting of mean-spirited unconcern wavered in the air, placing her with the rest who had come before her.

However, as we spoke, our interaction took a change. It was as if a current of understanding wafted through her, slowly loosening up the edges of her initial mistrust. Her gaze, once cruel and solitary, now carried a bit of compassion.

In a surprising turn, she reached for the tray that had been set at a distance, still ignoring it as part of a prank. As she carefully brought the tray closer, her actions spoke louder. In a sudden wave of wakefulness, I took into action, seizing the drawstring from her dress. I steered her to the ground, the fabric sliding through my fingers. The drawstring became a makeshift rope as I secured it around her neck, ensuring that she could not move as I tied her hands.

A certain decision got a hold of me as I swiftly moved to the next step. The belt that she knotted around her dress became a tool of restraint, now binding her hands and feet together firmly.

After I was sure that I had carefully restrained her, I took another practical step. She still had her loud grunts as she pleaded for help, so I hastily put a gag over her lips, ensuring that no words would escape from her lips to disrupt the silence in the room.

After securing her down there, quiet and maimed, I positioned myself by the door, my senses moved to the passing seconds. Time became both an ally and a foe as I waited. Listening to every footstep that passed by.This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

The weight of what I should do as I thought about it pressed upon me as I kept a vigilant watch. I needed to be quick and very much careful as to what I needed to do, I couldn’t risk getting caught again not after what had happened earlier. This time, I had no idea what the consequences would do to me. With the moving time, the suspense in the room intensified, pointing at the haste of what I needed to do.

I took the keys away from her as she only watched me muffling her screams that couldn’t even get past the door. The sound of the lock echoed an instant of decision as I turned it, sealing the maid in the dark room. The air hung heavy with the understanding that time was of the essence.

As the door closed behind me, I stepped into the dimly lit corridor with willful strides. The creaking floor beneath me went unnoticed, drowned out as time went by.

I walked through a path I had no idea about, navigating the shadows with the confidence of someone who understood every inch of where I was headed.

The hallway stretched out before me, its dimly lit spectrum echoing with the muffled sounds of distant activity. My heart hastened as I spotted a group of guards heading in my direction. Reacting swiftly, I turned into a small room adjacent to the hallway, the door closing behind me with a soft click. In that confined space, I pressed my hands over my mouth, suppressing any clue of breath that might betray my presence.

The room covered me in momentary aloneness as I waited in suspense. The sound of their approaching footsteps rumbled through the closed door, each one marking the nearness of potential danger. Holding my breath, I watched the shadows of their feet pass by the room. The seconds dragged on, the hushed tension amplifying the seriousness of the situation.

After what felt like an eternity, I peeked through the crack in the door. The guards had moved on, their looming figures now mere echoes in the hallway. Satisfied that the coast was clear, I continued my journey, cautiously stepping into the corridor once more. As I navigated the passageways, a sudden realisation struck me-a guard emerged from behind. Panic flowed through my veins. I pulled my hoodie over my head, covering my face in an attempt to shield my identity. My steps quickened as I headed down the hallway.