Clinton's POV
The dungeon door slams open, the loud sound echoing through the space. Two guards walk in, their heavy boots hitting the ground in slow, steady steps.
One of them crouches in front of me and starts unlocking the padlock on my chains. The metal scrapes loudly as he works. When he’s done, he moves to Richard and does the same.
“Let’s go. The Alpha wants to see you,” the other guard says, his voice anything but friendly. Then he looks at Richard. “Both of you.”
I push myself up slowly, my body stiff and sore. Every movement hurts. My muscles feel like they’ve been beaten over and over again. I stretch slightly, trying to ease the pain, but it doesn’t help much.
Richard stands too, following my lead.
He looks terrible.
One look at him and anyone can tell he hasn’t eaten.
