Chapter 168
Rhett’s footsteps grow louder, echoing off the walls as he moves deeper into the storage room. I can hear him shifting boxes, the scrape of metal against concrete as he checks behind each row, methodically closing in on my hiding spot. Every sound makes me flinch, every step drawing him closer, and I have to fight the urge to run, to flee without a plan.
Then, suddenly, his shadow stretches across the floor, long and dark, creeping toward the armchair where I’m hiding. I hold my breath, clenching my fists, every muscle taut with terror as his footsteps slow. He’s right there, barely inches away, and I can hear his heavy breathing, feel the malice radiating from him.
He pauses, and I brace myself, heart pounding so hard I’m sure he’ll hear it. My mind races, desperate, searching for anything I can use to defend myself. My claws have barely grown back, weakened by the wolfsbane still lingering in my system, but if it comes to it, I’ll fight with everything I have.
I close my eyes, willing myself to become invisible. Yet as they move through the room, I know I can’t stay here; they’ll spot me, so keeping low, I move through the room using the furniture and pallets to hide behind as I try to find a door or something.
Just as I duck behind some old crates, I hear Rhett’s voice ringing through the basement. “She’s close! Don’t let her escape!”
His words send a jolt of terror through me. I press my back
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against the rough wood, splinters digging into my skin. through my thin shirt. The musty scent of decay fills my nostrils as I struggle to control my ragged breathing.
Footsteps echo off the concrete floor, growing closer. My heart hammers against my ribcage, each beat a thunderous roar in my ears.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Bianca’s singsong voice drifts through the air, dripping with false sweetness. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
The sound of boxes being overturned makes me flinch. They‘ re searching methodically, getting nearer with each passing second. I strain my ears, trying to pinpoint their locations.
“Check the exits! She has to be around here somewhere!” Bianca shouts, her tone sharp and commanding.
The urgency in her voice sends a fresh wave of panic through me. I can’t stay here. They’re too close.
Sweat trickles down my spine as I force myself to open my eyes, scanning the dimly lit basement. My gaze darts from corner to corner, desperate for a way out of this place.
A flicker of movement catches my eye – a torn piece of paper fluttering in a faint breeze. My heart leaps. Where there’s air, there’s a way out.
“I swear, when I get my hands on her…” Rhett’s threat trails off, punctuated by the crash of something heavy hitting the floor, the sound reverberating through the room like a warning.
I flinch but keep my focus on the small scrap of paper
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fluttering near the floor, marking the direction of a faint
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breeze. Slowly, carefully, I edge toward it, every muscle taut with tension, every breath measured. I need to stay calm, to stay silent.
As I near the source of the breeze, I spot it–a small, grimy window set high in the wall. It’s barely big enough for a
person, but right now, it’s my only shot at freedom. My pulse quickens as I stare up at that tiny window, hope surging with the realization. I might just get out of here.
I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms as I inch closer. Gripping the edge of the windowsill, I haul myself up and peer out. The faint, salty scent of the ocean hits me, and beyond the grime–streaked glass, I catch sight of hulking shadows- ships, masts swaying gently in the harbor lights. I’m at the docks. I must be in one of the warehouses.
