Chapter 474: In chains

Noah.

The air inside the subterranean cell was thick with the suffocating, metallic stench of damp stone and heavy wolfsbane.

I hung from the wall, my arms pulled taut above my head by thick iron shackles that bit mercilessly into my wrists. Every single breath felt like inhaling liquid fire.

The poison was sloshing through my veins, a dark, heavy sludge designed to paralyze my muscle fibers and completely starve my wolf of its natural strength.

Deep, glowing anti-werewolf runes were carved directly into the damp stone behind my back, pulsing with a faint, nauseating hum that kept my senses dulled and my vision flickering in and out of focus.

They thought I was finished— they thought throwing me into a hole, piping in wolfsbane fumes, and chaining me up like a rabid animal would break my spirit.

They were dead wrong.

I forced my chin up, dragging a painful gulp of stale air into my lungs as I slowly blinked away the cold sweat stinging my eyes. I didn’t move a muscle otherwise. I kept my head slumping slightly to the left, my broad shoulders sagging, and my legs limp against the freezing dirt floor. I gave them every indication of a broken Alpha—a useless, poisoned shell waiting around to die.

In reality, every single neuron in my brain was firing on sheer, stubborn adrenaline.

I had to get out of here. My territory was under attack, Daniel’s shadow mercenaries were crawling around the edges of our home, and Maria—Goddess, Maria—was fading fast under the weight of a dying bond.

The thought of her lying helpless in that estate while traitors moved through the halls was a worse agony than any wolfsbane burning in my blood. It set my heart hammering against my ribs, a dark, furious rhythm that kept the poison from entirely knocking me out.

I began to test my prison, millimeter by millimeter.

First, I focused on my breathing, slowing my pulse to a crawl so the guards outside wouldn’t pick up on my rising heart rate. I listened. Through the heavy iron door at the end of the narrow stone corridor, I could hear the faint, muffled voices of two mercenary guards.

"Check on him again?" one of them grunted, his voice echoing faintly through the corridor.

"Why bother?" the second one scoffed, the sound of dice rattling in a wooden cup cutting through the quiet. "The guy’s pumped full of three double-doses of liquid wolfsbane and trapped under rank-four suppression runes. He couldn’t even lift a finger if he wanted to. Drink your ale."

A rigid fifteen-minute rotation. They were lazy, complacent, and entirely reliant on the poison doing their job for them. That was mistake number one.

Next, I focused on the iron binding my wrists. The cuffs were forged from dense, anti-magical iron, heavy enough to bruise the bone. But iron wasn’t the weak link—the stone was.

I subtly shifted my body weight, pressing my heels flat into the mud and slowly pushing upward to relieve the tension on my shoulders. I rolled my left wrist, letting the heavy chain swing just an inch to the side.

Clink.

The tiny sound was swallowed by the dripping of water somewhere in the dark, but the feedback through my arm was instantaneous. A microscopic vibration ran down the chain, straight into the mortar behind the stone wall.

My eyes snapped open in the pitch black.

I did it again, leaning my full weight slightly to the right before pulling down on the left wrist with a slow, agonizingly steady pressure.

Crunch.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The subterranean cell was carved into an ancient, underground cavern system, and the sheer humidity down here was its fatal flaw. Decades of damp, stagnant water had seeped into the stone masonry surrounding the wall anchor. The mortar holding the heavy iron ring on my left side was completely saturated, softened by years of rot and rust.

A dark, dangerous spark ignited deep in my chest.

If the anchor had been anchored into fresh, dry granite, I’d be dead in this cell. But rust and water had eaten away at the foundation. It wasn’t completely loose—it was still buried deep in the rock—but it wasn’t solid anymore either. It was a flaw—a tiny, miraculous gap in their impenetrable fortress.

I closed my eyes, taking a long, deliberate breath through my nose, forcing myself to analyze the physics of it rather than giving in to raw, panicked rage.

The wolfsbane in my system made it impossible to summon my full Alpha strength. I couldn’t just tear the wall down with a single flex of my muscles.

If I tried a sudden, brute-force jerk, the poison in my muscles would cause them to tear, and the guards would hear the sudden crash before I could pull myself free. I would be lying on the floor, bleeding and completely defenseless, while they walked in and put a silver bullet through my head.

The thought alone was enough to make me tighten my jaw.

No. I couldn’t afford to be reckless.

I had to play it smart. I had to wear the stone down slowly, quietly, without raising suspicion. There was no point in breaking free for a few seconds if I ended up too injured to actually use that freedom. Every movement had to count. Every ounce of strength had to be controlled. I couldn’t afford a single mistake.

I waited.

I forced myself to remain still, ignoring the uncomfortable strain in my muscles and the dull ache spreading through my body. I listened carefully, focusing on the sounds beyond the wooden door. The faint murmur of the guards drifted through the room, followed by the familiar rattle of their dice.

I waited until I heard it again.

The moment the wooden cup clattered against the table outside, I braced my feet against the floor, engaged my core, and pulled on the left chain with a smooth, relentless tension.

I didn’t yank, I leaned... slowly, deliberately, I shifted my weight into the pull, allowing my body to do the work instead of wasting what little strength I had on a violent movement. My shoulder pressed downward as I adjusted my position, finding the strongest angle I could manage.

I used the natural leverage of my broad frame, driving my shoulder downward and wedging my feet deep into the mud. My heels dug into the soft ground, giving me just enough resistance to keep my body anchored while I pulled against the chain.

The metal responded with the faintest movement. I held the tension there, refusing to rush, refusing to let my muscles make the decision for me. My entire body trembled beneath the strain, but I maintained the pressure, steady and relentless, pulling the anchor at an angle.

A little at a time, that was all I needed..not a dramatic break...not a sudden victory.

Just enough pressure, applied carefully and repeatedly, to make the stone give way before anyone outside realized what I was doing.

The stone groaned beneath the surface, a tiny shower of wet grit flaking off the wall and splashing silently into the mud near my boots. Pain flared white-hot up my forearm, the iron cuff cutting deep into my skin, drawing a thin line of warm blood that trickled down my elbow. I ignored it, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper, keeping my jaw locked so no gasp of agony escaped my lips.

I held the tension for five agonizing seconds, feeling the iron ring shift a fraction of a millimeter in its socket, before slowly relaxing my grip right as the guards finished their round of dice.

I sagged back down, letting my head drop forward, breathing heavily into my chest.

It moved.

It was slight, but the anchor was definitely loosening. The wet mortar was giving way under the pressure. Three or four more heavy, controlled pulls during their loud moments, and I could pop the anchor straight out of the rotting stone wall. Once my left hand was free, the heavy suppression circle formed by the wall runes would be broken. My wolf wouldn’t be at full power—not with the poison still coursing through my system—but it would be enough to tear the right cuff out, overpower those two lazy guards at the door, and get the hell out of this hole.

I lifted my head slightly, staring into the oppressive blackness of the corridor beyond the bars.

"Just keep rolling your dice," I whispered under my breath, my voice a barely audible, raspy growl that rattled in my throat.

Daniel thought he had erased me from the board. He thought he could manipulate my brothers, drag Maria into his trap, and take our territory while I sat down here rotting in chains. He had no idea I was coming for him.

I braced my feet in the slick dirt once more, listening intently for the next clatter of dice against the wooden table. I closed my eyes, pulled the fire of my wolf back into my chest, and prepared to break the wall apart.