In the arms of my father

Valen's POV --- Drip. Drip drip. Drip. Drip drip. The incessant dripping of water somewhere in this cold and dank, silver metal barred cavern, has been the only other friend, besides Snow, since the day that, that f*****g yellow bellied asshole locked me up in here. My captors only allow me to leave, or more to the point, to be dragged out of my cell, by my hair usually, to introduce me to their version of what a friend is. With my eyes closed I feel a little smile gloss over my damaged and dirty face, a smile that no one will see or appreciate in the darkness. A smile that isn't as light or genuine as it used to be, instead it holds a darkness that wasn't there before all of this happened. Before the betrayal of that asshole Guardian. It's not like we weren't expecting the betrayal, heck we were all preparing for some sort of catalyst that would start off the war. I just didn't realise that, that catalyst would end up being me. That I am here, instead of my father makes me extremely happy, I would gladly place myself in harm's way to save my dad again, because that's who they were really after. I'm sure that the only reason why they chose my father is because out of all the Future Guardian's, I am the most untrained. The other Future Guardian's would have gotten themselves out of the predicament that I am currently in, having had years to harness all of their Guardian gifts. Me? I've only just scratched the surface. Despite not knowing enough about my own powers to free myself, I am still very grateful and happy that the tranq bullet meant for my father got me instead, and that I managed to yell at my father and his Leading 3 to get the f**k out, before the sleeping drug completely took hold of my already unco-operative limbs. I remember being super grateful that my brother Mikaera, wasn't allowed to attend the meetings, not until I become a full fledged Guardian in my own right anyway. I know my baby brother would have done everything in his power to keep me safe, maybe to the detriment of his own safety, and I'm not sure if I could live with that. Sometimes though, sometimes I wish that I was free with my father and brother. I wish I had listened to my gut instinct telling me that something bad was going to happen at the meeting before we left our Pack lands that fateful morning. I wish I had pleaded with my father more, begged him to allow all of us to stay home. To not attend the damn bi-monthly Guardian meeting. But at the end of the day, all the wishing and all the what if's, will not get me out of this mess. I've given up on being rescued, the amount of time that I have been here has been too long. I can't see anything of the outside world, there are no windows, so time has no meaning here. What does have meaning, is the number of times that I am fed, which usually is so few and far between that my once curvaceous body is now thin, my ribs are starting to jut out, making it painful to lie down for long periods of time. I have bruises and scars, some yellowed and old beneath the dark purple and new bruises, running up and down my body, the open and weeping, most likely infected, wounds are no longer healing quickly with my Werewolf strength. Snow is just as weakened as I am now, no longer being able to heal me anymore, and I don't know how much longer my body can take this treatment. I move my legs as I lie down, trying to get myself into a more comfortable position, when I hear the clank of the silver and wolfsbane chain hit the uneven rock surface of my cell. The chain is attached to my ankles, and being that it is made by two things that can hurt and weaken a Werewolf, I can't help the hiss of pain leaving my lips, as I feel the scorching burn of it against my skin, muscles and bones. It wasn't always painful though, in the beginning, my body was immune to the tortures of silver and wolfsbane. But over time, my immunity started to wane, until now there is no relief from the cold burn of it. It's at times like this, when my thoughts drift to Brody and his brand of delicious torture, so different to the people who have captured me. I wonder how pleased Brody would be to know that I can handle more than just a few smacks now. Considering my 'friends' outside of this rocky cell are torture devices that aren't designed to incite s****l excitement. I miss him so much it makes me wonder if he misses me just as much. Does he still think about me? Or has he found someone else to keep his bed warm and his heart full. I no longer cry any more. I am cold inside, having my emotions beaten out of me has done that. Oh, she screamed out. Let's give her something to scream about. Oh, we found her crying to herself in her cell. Let's give her something to cry about. Oh, she's crying while on the table of torture. Let's give her some more. Which then makes me think of Tiernan, and the number of tears that I shed for him. So many tears, during that short time I lived on his Pack lands in America. Is it bad that I miss that mother fucker too? Is he happy with Bianca? Has enough time passed that they are now expecting a child of their own? Speaking of child. I feel the fluttering low in my tummy, letting me know that my own child is still alive and kicking, despite the poor state of my body. I found out I was pregnant the morning that we had left for the bi-monthly meeting, my only regret is not having enough time to let Brody know that he is going to be a father. Was. Was going to be a father. We're going to die here. Snow, our pup and I. I know death is coming for us. I feel it in my stuttering heart. I feel it in my laboured breaths. I feel it in my cold and weak limbs. I take a breath and call out weakly, "Grandmother, save us!" Slowly, I feel myself losing the battle to hold on for my child, for Snow, for my father, for Mikaera, for Brody, for Tiernan, for my sister Manaia, for my friends Hope, Kara, Kaiah, Blake, and for the woman who has shown me the true meaning of what a mother is since I showed up at her door. Just as I am letting go, I hear a commotion echoing through the halls of my prison. Shouts and growls, hisses and strong gushes of flowing water, the cracking of electricity and rumbles as the stone floors and walls shake. I wonder if I'm hallucinating again, it's been happening a lot lately. I hesitantly open my eyes, curious to see if it's all in my head once again or if it's real. I quickly squint against the intrusive light that is growing stronger by the minute, until I hear the door to my cell forcefully opening. Oh, they've come to drag me away for more torture, I think to myself. Not that it matters, I'm most likely dying now. I see blurry figures bursting into the room that has been my home for a number of unspecified days. But they don't carry the smell of the witches, warlocks or hunters that I am used to. Instead I scent people that I haven't seen in a very long time, but that can't be right. They're not coming for me. I smell him now, as he and the other figures rush to my side. If my mind is playing with me...then it's a f****d up, sadistic b***h that I would love to hate right now. I feel the loosening of the chains to my ankles and then I feel a warm and strong body pick me up and hold me close. I bury my face into his chest, basking in the scent that I didn't think I would ever smell again. Warm? I must be positively frozen right now, if he is warm against my skin. And that's when I finally get a clue, this isn't a trick. This is real! I really can smell them all. My father, Mikaera, Brody, Tiernan, Kaiah, Kara, Alpha Damien and River. Fuck, I must smell like s**t, but it doesn't seem like the person holding me cares as he places a careful kiss to my bruised forehead, trying not to jostle my battered body in doing so. Everything is starting to fade away still though, and then I hear him whisper words that give me a little bit of hope, that everything would finally be okay. "Hold on, Valen. We're all here, you are safe, Angel. Just please, hold on!" Sebastian says his voice not quite strong enough to hide the tears that are falling from his face and landing on mine. It's strange, shouldn't his tears make my face sting? But I don't feel a thing right now, and for that I'm grateful. That split second before the world goes completely black, I whisper back quietly, "Too late."