EPILOGUE
(Patrick’s POV)
“Save yourself…”
“Stay alive!”
“Fight for our kind.”
“I love you, son.”
I bolt up from my sleep as the chains in my neck, feet, and hands made noise with the sudden movement. It was the same voice in my dreams, the last melody of the tone of my family. I look around me. As usual, it was the same; I am in a room – formally, the alphas room.
The last time I had gone out of this room, was the time the master of those filthy scum made a speech of how they won the battle, slapping the fact that we lost in our fight, that most of the family I knew were long gone.
That night was horrible. When we got out of the house, the warlocks were already winning. The entire pack fought them, and we lost.
We were no match with their spells. Each warlock has their own staff with green lights illuminating the end of each orb. It was amazing – for a museum display.
I can clearly remember the event that night. The way the warlocks cast spells with their staffs and create lightning, or any sorts of elements, they even resurrect the dead and used them to fight against us. We were many than them, but they were clearly a lot stronger than us.
They killed a lot of us, including Marcus, Jake, some of the children, and dad. I remember how raged I was when they killed my father in front of me. I felt tears well up on my eyes as I remember that time.
I don’t even know where my mother is. They captured the remaining members of my pack and made us prisoner. It’s been two months. Yet, I don’t have any news about my family. My captor made me stay forever in this room. She never lets me out, and the window is covered with some sort of magic – blocking its way out. Even punching it, it was no use.
I stayed in my position. I was naked, and the cold chains sends shiver up in my spine.
In a few minutes, I heard the sound of my captors’ heels. It was clicking loudly outside the room. I prepared myself for another agony, it was always the same. Her staff, making electricity, or fire, or ice, she even makes it as a whip.
