Chapter Forty-Seven

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More Blake! That's what you want, right guys? ;)

Enjoy.

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          As Blake walked through the corridor, he frowned. The sound of his footsteps on the stone floor wasn't the same as on the marble high above him. There was no empty echo either, just his steps. From a room somewhere behind him came laughter, a Hellish barking that sounded like someone was choking; the werewolves were keeping amused by drinking the wine stored down here, and telling each other stories and jokes. He didn't need either of those things, but continued down the corridor.

          For some reason, a strange sort of nostalgia came over him as he walked the corridor; the tight, dim space reminded him of his home, back when he was still called Robert. His father would walk into the house, and it would sound just as it did now.

          “Don't be scared, Bobby,” he muttered to himself. After all, his father was long gone, and he was alone in this place. The shadows here were cast as he walked by—not by anybody else. Despite that though, there were things he missed about the old home, and he couldn't help but think he might have left too soon. His little kid sister whose grin brightened up a room and who was unable to keep her loud laughter from being heard three streets over... he wasn't sure what had become of her, or what would have become if he'd have stayed. But he missed her.

          Still, if he hadn't left, he would have never ended up where he was now. And although his friend called him traitor, although no one would ever look at him the same after tonight, Blake knew what he did was the right thing.

          It wasn't about revenge. It was about saving a soul.

          He stopped at a door, and forced a smile on himself—a skill he perfected when he was a little boy—before pushing it open.

          “Mr. Gormen,” he said, grinning. “Could you please spare a moment for family?”

          Marc was sitting on a chair in a corner of the room. Around his arms were iron bracers, with strong chains that went all the way to the wall, giving him about three or four meters of room to walk around in. Blake made sure he didn't came near that invisible line.

          He looked up. “You're not my family.”

          “We carry the same name, and we're both soldiers—brothers in arms, are we not?”

          “Brothers do not lock each other up like animals.”

          Blake chuckled. “You're in chains, not a cage. We gave you a chair so you can sit, we even gave you a meal. You're not locked up like an animal. However, Terrance is, so I have to say I disagree with you: brothers can lock each other up like animals... if the situation calls for it, that is.”

          “And you're here now, for what?”

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