Wolf-less Omega Luna

CHAPTER 63: A DUNGEON NOSTALGIA

Alana’s POV

“I can find my way on my own,” I said to Alistair with as much conviction as I could muster. My hand was now in the pocket of my hoodie that had the tiny map to my destination and I squeezed on it for reassurance.

But as I did that, my dad’s name kept resounding in my head. If he knew my dad’s name —which had become less surprising to me since everybody seemed to know more about my family than I did— and he knew where my dad was, it would kill time and help me get there faster.

Then again, Alistair was the devil in wolf form. All he left was destruction in his path. Nothing could beat that. And as much as I thought I knew him, I didn’t. It was better to take my chances alone than with him and his cohorts.

He took a few predatory steps toward me and I instantly steeled my spine in defiance. Only when he was a hair's breadth away did my walls crumble and a visible shudder run through me. Everything about him was dark and evil.

“I’m afraid it’s not up for negotiation, Princess,” he said slowly, revealing his almost perfect dentition except for the chipped tooth that connected with the last trace of the scar on his lip.

Up close, his scar that looked like a second skin was even more repelling. His large frame towered over me. He was almost as tall as Axel but he looked older and much more bulky in terms of muscles.

Rogues didn’t have the most appealing smell so let’s just say I fought the urge to scrunch my nose

and throw up on his timberland boots.

“I. Said. I. Am. Not. Coming. With. You.” I said it through gritted teeth as my eyes met his snake-like ones. Narrow, pale, and paired with the most unreal-looking pupils. I refused to look away even if my heartbeat gave the opposite impression.

The night air was so quickly polluted with his frosty demeanor and even the insects and animals around seemed to notice his presence and all retreat. The air was now colder, threatening to turn my blood to ice

“Again, feisty,” he sighed, almost bored. “But I am on a timeline so we have to get moving.”

His left hand came up to my nose and an uninvited and even fouler smell invaded my lungs. I tried to push myself away from him but I couldn’t find the strength in my muscles for about a second before it clicked on me.

“Screw y…” my sentence was cut short and my knees dropped to the ground as my heart beat the faintest and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

The feeling of nostalgia that I got by the time my eyes peeled open was all too familiar and that was what prompted me to jump up to my feet.

It wasn't the place I recalled finding myself all too often but it was similar. Very. Very. Similar.

The small opening at the farthest corner of the wall that let in the faintest trickle of light and wind, the bone-chilling concrete and almost wet floor, the thick corrugated steel bars that my head just connected with when I—

“Shit!” I snapped in both pain and anger as my head connected with what I thought to be steel but were silver bars. My hand flew to my head on impulse but I stopped halfway when the same burning sensation cut through my hand like a band.

“What the hell!” My voice was a mix of a groan, a whimper, and a plea. It hurt so much.

The skin surrounding the chain on my hand was now a bright red color and my forehead was no doubt a similar shade.

My stomach rumbled angrily but that wasn’t my concern. I was in a dungeon, in goddess knows where. I tried to backtrack to the last thing I could remember to at least have an idea of where I was.

I remembered being in the dense woods that separated MoonDay pack from the rest of the world. I remembered being rounded by Alistair and his men and then the hand he brought up to my nose that passed me out.

This had to either be MoonDay pack which he initially asked to take me to, or his pack of Marauders.

I tried to stay still and focus my senses on the sounds around me or the smell. Something that would give off a hint to where I was but the sharp pain that coursed through my arms and my growling stomach rendered my efforts useless.

My stomach growled again and I lowered myself to the cold ground carefully so as not to strain the chains on my hands more than they already were. Once on the floor, I rubbed my belly soothingly in an attempt to quench the hunger.

“How long?” It was more than one question. How long have I been here? How long till I was going to be out? How long before I was going to find food or water. “My bag!” Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

If I could just get my bag, I’d have something to munch on. I still had a few sandwiches, a bar of chocolates, and one last bottle of water.

My eyes opened to search the small space that I was in but my backpack was nowhere in sight. I heaved a resigned sigh and pressed the back of my head to the wall.

It could have been my messed up brain or hunger, but not once did I feel the pair of eyes watching my every movement till I sat still for close to a minute. My defenses shot up and I snapped my head to the opposite dungeon to find…

“No.”

My legs moved on autopilot till my hands were back on the silver bars but I didn’t flinch or cry out because of the pain shooting through my hands.

“You look just like your mother did at this age.” Emotion resonated in his voice almost to the point of breakage. “The hair. The eyes. Height,” he inhaled sharply. “The aura,” and he smiled.

I remembered that smile so much that if this was a fraud pretending to be my him, I would have known it. It was him. My dad.

Not only because this was a stark contrast to the person I saw in my hallucinations months ago, but also the very small details. His smile. The way one side of his lips tilted more than the other. His stance. His left shoulder was always more raised. His eyes. I couldn’t miss the fatherly love they held.

My voice broke, and my heart leaped. This wasn’t the reunion I imagined, but there was no other way I would have wanted to have it.

“Dad?” I called in disbelief.