There was only cold darkness. His feet dragged on rubble and loose rocks. Brisk, frigid wind snapped at his fur, and he could smell again. He could identify eleven different scents.

There had been eleven werewolves fighting in there?

The grip was familiar, and the scent was unmistakable. Ares moved with a casual grace and William’s out of control body was held in place and forced to move against its will.

William concentrated on the dark night sky at the very limit of his vision. The stars were out tonight. Their cold light shown down on him. The wind kicked a light coating of dust and debris around his body. It stung him a little, but his body refused to even blink. The sensation was… uncomfortable. Of course, if this really was Ares and there was no question about it now, there was only one place that he could be going. Soon, having some dust in his eyes would be the very least of his problems.

Ares continued to drag him up the mountain. The night was cold and there was no moon in the sky. They passed without incident up the mountain slope and into the cave where they had exited those few days ago. A howl rang out into the silence.

He was enveloped by darkness.

The world came back to him. There was light above him and familiar cold, black walls around him. His body tried to jump up and run, but his limbs were held in place by great iron clasps. His head swung down to see that his limbs were shackled to the floor with great black chains. His body forced itself to move against the restraints. His arms were soon bleeding with the effort. The pain of the black steel cutting into his open flesh would have been enough to make him stop, but his other had full control of his body and it wasn’t letting up because of something as trivial as pain.

The heavy chains clinked together as his body let the chains slack and then jumped against them ripping them taught. He couldn’t stop himself from trying again and again to force open the clasps or trying to break the chains. He tried to focus on something else, something less painful.

How long had he been here?

Had he slept?

Had he been knocked unconscious?

Had Charles and Achelois been subjected to the same kind of treatment as he was enduring right now?

Had Katherine been healed fully?

Was Aceso all right?

The endless stream of questions with no answers was just as maddening as the slick feeling of blood twisting and lubricating the inside of the shackles, only to dry again moments later. That wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that his fur was being ripped out as soon as his blood dried. It was a little like pulling out nose hairs. A single one didn’t hurt, but pull out enough and eventually it started to sting pretty badly. His other had no concept of pain and he was forced to sit back and try not to go crazy.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Time passed strangely.

The ceiling crystals stayed at a constant light. The boredom he felt was compounded by his frustration. He tried to take control of his body more than once. At one point he tried to get in a rhythm with his other’s attempts to break the chain. Yank, yank, try to command his body to stop, yank, yank try to make his body stop. He suspected that his other had become aware of what he was doing and let long stretches of time pass in between pulling futilely at the chains again. William tried to keep up with the game but not being in control of any part of his own body seemed to have an adverse effect on his mind, it kept slipping.

He could feel that his wrists were raw, and his legs were sore and aching from the continued strain of struggling against the chains. His whole body was sore but that didn’t seem to bother his body at all. His body operated as if it had just been on a three-day vacation in the Bahamas, while he was being driven mad with the pain that riddled him.

As the endless parade of time marched by him he began to wonder how long he could hold on to his own identity.

How had he regained control of himself that first time?

The vague memory of Ares and pain came to him but nothing that he could solidly remember. In fact, he was having trouble remembering anything. That thought scared him but was dulled by the pain of his arm feeling like it was being ripped out of its socket.

He heard a whimper from somewhere. It sounded pitiful and tired. His mind took several moments to identify where the whimper had come from. There was no one else around, it must have come from him, but he didn’t remember making that sound.

He thought back to when he was in his forest. For some reason the clearest memory of that time was his fight with the old grey. The fear he had felt and the guilt at having hurt the wolf that was only protecting its territory.

The old grey…

His thoughts were interrupted again by the annoying sounds of clanking steel. His other really did not like being tied up and was now kicking at his leg restraints. The sound drowned out his fragile hold on his memories and they were washed away by the vicious yank and clank of black steel, followed by the pain of sore muscles and ripped flesh as the unforgiving steel bit into his leg, just above the ankle. The pain at least gave him something to focus on.

Sometime later, it could have been a day or a week, he remained cognizant enough to witness his eyes close. For the first time since being here he saw and understood that it was his eyes closing. There was something that he had desperately wanted to try at some point when his body had closed its eyes.

The fatigue of the continued efforts to escape seemed to have drained his other and his body sufficiently to cause him to close his eyes. He knew that his other was not asleep but at least there was darkness. It enveloped around him like a warm blanket. He hadn’t slept in so long. He let himself sink down but not to sleep. The deeper he sank into his own mind the clearer thoughts became. His memory was stronger here and he felt a little like his old self again.

He looked down and could see that he had his own body and it obeyed his commands once more. There wasn’t any pain here and he took a few moments of pleasure to just blink his eyes and swing his arms a bit. He kicked out and stretched his ankles. The ability to move was something that he never thought he could enjoy so much. But then he had never considered not having control over his body for any extended period of time either.