Caught by Cullen Claire

Author:Cullen, Claire
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

It was hard to tell the time in the darkness, though there was a tiny sliver of light peeking through a blacked-out window that was just enough for Skye to measure the passing of the day. The wolves came into the room only once, two of them, wearing ear protectors. They freed his arms and brought him to a bathroom, then led him back to his cell, secured his arms behind his back again, and sat him down on the floor. He watched in confusion as one remained inside the room while the other closed the door, belatedly realizing why when the second one took off his gag and held up a bottle of water.

Skye took a long drink, wetting his parched throat enough to attempt to sing. He got out only a few notes before the wolf cuffed him across the head in warning, making his ears ring. Skye subsided sullenly, accepting another drink from the bottle of water, and then a bite of some kind of chicken. Clearly, they weren’t taking any chances by freeing his hands and letting him feed himself.

The wolf secured the gag tightly as soon as the food was finished, then banged three times on the door to be let out. Skye followed him with his eyes as the door shut soundly once more. Tired and cold, he curled up on the floor to try to stay warm, watching as the light peeking through the window started to dim as the afternoon set in.

That little need inside him, that wish for the sea, was growing stronger with every hour. Skye wasn’t sure how to explain it. He’d had longings for the sea before, every siren had, but it had never felt quite like this. Maybe it was where he was and what had happened to him — the fear and anxiety stoking those emotions. But that slow thrum of need grew stronger and stronger. By the time the light from the window turned a deeper orange, signaling the arrival of evening, the pull of the sea was like a strong undertow, an incessant demand. He had to get to the ocean.

Wiggling around onto his stomach, he took the pressure off his arms and started to yank at the ropes binding his wrists. He tugged and pulled, twisting this way and that. He didn’t stop, even when it started to hurt, even as he felt it rub the skin around his wrists raw. He had to get free so he could get out. There was no other way.

The rope held fast against his attempts, but he kept trying, yanking harder and harder, gritting his teeth against the terrible pain, biting his tongue until he tasted blood. And then… relief. The rope gave, fraying in one section and coming apart as he kept yanking and yanking at it. He worried at it with his fingers, untangling it from around him and letting it fall to the floor. His fingers were wet when he reached for the gag around his head, yanking frantically at it when he found it too tight to pull free.

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