The Amber Shift

Fifty-Two

tw: see summary

Noelle

I stir awake with a pounding headache, my brain foggy with confusion. I'm not in the car anymore, but I don't remember getting out of the backseat, either. The air around me is freezing, and it smells stale and musty, like no one has used any cleaning products in the space in years.

My eyelids flutter open and I start to sit up, but something stops me, and I can only raise my body a couple inches off the hard surface I'm lying on before I'm too weak to keep going.

"What the fuck?" I mumble, my voice hoarse with sleep.

I try to rise again, to push myself up by my hands. But I can hardly move my arms. Shifting my gaze downward, I gasp at the rings of metal around my wrists. "Oh my God," I say, lifting my arm, after several attempts, to inspect the shackles. They're shiny, heavy, and what look like pure silver. I remember Remi telling me that pure silver is a deterrent to lycans, that it makes us weak, to the point of hardly being able to move.

Which is exactly how I feel right now.

I try to move my legs and am met with the same effect. The same shackles are around my ankles, and I can barely lift them. My feet are bare, my clothes and shoes gone. I am in nothing but my lacy bralette and underwear, and I am shivering with both chill and fear.

I struggle for long minutes until I manage to pull up into a seated position, but by the time I'm on my ass with my feet dangling from the flat surface I was placed on, I'm so wiped out, my body feels like it weighs six hundred extra pounds.

"Is anyone there?" I shout, but it comes out as more of a croak. "Asher! Are you there? Help me, please!"

A thousand terrible thoughts fill my head—my father's guards catching us before we could leave, Asher hurt or even worse, Killian, Remi, and Elijah unable to fight off the other wolves. How did I not manage to wake up during any of it?

"Hello?" I call, wincing at the burning pain in my throat.

The steel door opens, and a giant of a man stands in the frame. His black shirt clings to his massive chest and arms, and his long dark hair is pulled into a slick ponytail at his nape. He drags his beady eyes over my body before meeting my gaze. "How are those shackles feeling?" he asks.

Rage fills my body and my blood boils. My wolf snaps at the surface, wanting out, but something is blocking her. "What the fuck is this?" I growl. "Do you know who you're fucking with, asshole?" I shouldn't be so bold, but I am enraged.

These shackles aren't just making me weak; they're stopping me from shifting.

He clicks his tongue and walks into the room. "I'm guessing they are doing their job. Too bad they don't work at gagging you as well. I have a feeling you are going to be a pain in my ass. But isn't that the way of all royalty?"

He knows who I am. "I command you as future queen of the lycans to let me go. Take these shackles off or I swear to the goddess that you will pay with your life."

His deep laughter fills the sparce room, bouncing off the empty walls. "You aren't my future queen, and you can save your idle threats. I'm just here to see if you're hungry."

I glance down at the shackles and wonder how he expects me to eat when I can barely lift my arms. The words to decline his offer sit at the tip of my tongue, which sticks to the roof of my mouth, my dry throat aching for a sip of water. As much as I want to turn him down, the condition of my body doesn't let me.

"I'm thirsty," I say.

"Anything else?"

"I want to know where my friend is—the one I was with when you captured me."