Four allies; one mission.
Take down the tyrant.
This should be easy considering they're the Chosen Wolves. They're inherently powerful. United, they'd be a force of nature. Unfortunately for the werewolf community, they face two minor setbacks:
One...
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^^ aesthetic by @rainegreene ⬛️⬛️⬛️
"Don't trust everything you see. Even salt looks like sugar."
⬛️⬛️⬛️
MY LEGS ARE on the verge of falling asleep when I'm finally allowed in.
I intake a sharp breath as I step into the room. It's unfathomably grand. Sunrays reflect off the coloured glass casting a hundred different hues on the marbled floor. The stone walls are rimmed with white and the roof is replica of the blue sky. In the middle, stands a fountain brimming with gold liquid. It springs, bubbles, sizzles and then fizzles out as it falls - all in a matter of seconds.
My eyes rest on the huge oak door that stands at the end of the hall, guarded by a man in red uniform. His expression doesn't change the slightest when we approach.
To my surprise, Dipshit One and Two hand me over and take leave without a word. I'm left standing in a giant room, alone, trying not to look like a fool.
"This way." The guard monotones. "The Master will see you now."
I'm ushered into another room, a slightly smaller version of the first. A chandelier hangs overhead - red and blue and white glass mirroring the daylight. In the centre there's a furnished mahogany table littered with files and paper. The chair is turned away from me, but I catch a whiff off his scent before he swivels around and I come face to face with the devil. Again.
My hackles rise.
He stands.
My blood boils.
He smiles.
I smile back. "Hello, Grey."
He doesn't reply; his shrewd eyes travel from top to bottom, x-raying every inch of me. Finally, after a long minute, he takes a drag from his pipe, seemingly satisfied. "Carter. Long time no see." He remarks, strolling towards me casually.
"Not long enough," I reply, still smiling.
Amusement flashes in those evil, electric blue eyes as he stares me down. "Are you sure? It's been two weeks already. Didn't you miss me? Even, a little bit?"
"Hardly," I retort. "Your disgusting, dungeon-rodents kept me such good company."
"Sarcasm." He gasps in fake horror. "Are you angry, Carter? I can't imagine why. Prison certainly looks good on you. Those cheekbones, man." He whistles, fanning himself with his hand. "You've gotten a lot hotter since the last time I saw you!"
