The Unforgiving Moon

18.

Even though I had known he wouldn't survive his time in this cage, my insides still felt like dying when I was confronted with his lifeless body hanging by the chains.

It was dark, but it was unmistakably him. His eyes didn't need to be open to uncover the silver orbs—which now surely would be reduced to a dulled grey, either way.

But the night black hair, wild and clotted with blood, and the sharp facial features that were painted in dark red streaks were undoubtedly his. Our Alpha had fallen, Beckett had gotten to him, had clawed him beyond repair.

Even though I had known, I had not been prepared. Neither had Lotta, who I could hear breathing—nearly heaving, quite close to me.

All the proof lay there before me, in this dark, sunburned room, and I could not look away. My eyes were glued to him, stuck to every cut and every gash.

I was hoping, praying to somehow see him move, or to hear his heart beating, yet it was so difficult to discern anything in this darkness or to hear anything but my own heart pounding in my ear or Lotta's panicked breaths.

Even the smell of the blood had dulled between these cave-like walls, overpowered by our despair and panic, and cast aside by our weakened senses. Our bodies had grown tired, yet I felt on edge, alert, wrong, and uneasy.

"We have to get out of here," Lotta rasped next to me. "Now."

The urgency in her voice nearly made me falter, but I couldn't move. My feet were stuck, melted into the ground below me and my eyes still stayed fixed on that mangled torso, hoping to find any sign of life, a sign that wouldn't come.

"Something bad is going on here, Sari," Lotta muttered, nearly begging, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me with her. "We need to leave."

But I stayed put. "No," I breathed.

"Sari, I think this is a trap. It was too easy getting in here, and this room feels wrong. Dangerous."

My mind agreed with her—this place was wrong, cursed, deadly and we had to leave. But my feet refused to move, my ears refused to listen, and my legs refused to follow her.

You will die here, that voice screamed in my head. Run, it ordered me. Yet I couldn't.

Yes, my body was exhausted and drained. And yes, my senses were weakened because of it. But something else was going on here, too. Something bad, yet intriguing, and I had to know what it was, I had to stay-

"There," I gasped and took a step forward.

"Sari, there's no time. We have to leave. This is a trap."

I shook my head. I had seen it, my eyes hadn't lied to me—his chest had moved. Just the tiniest bit, barely noticeable—like a shadow dancing on a dark wall. Dark moving against dark, barely visible but nevertheless existing.

"Sari-" Lotta pleaded.

I interrupted her with a shush. "Quiet," I whispered.

My abrupt dismissal of her concerns seemed to shock her into silence for a short while.

I held my breath, and I quieted my heart. I had to tune out all the other noises for this to work, for this faintest feeling that needed to be affirmed.

But there it was. Even more faint and dull than the small movement had been, but unmistakable: a beating heart. It was strained and slow—too slow to belong to me, or Lotta.

"He's alive," I whispered. "Can't you hear it?"

"What are you talking about, Sari?" Lotta muttered. "I can't hear anything. Anything."