Elena's POV
The guest room was pitch black.
Outside, the thunder tore through the night sky like the roar of a giant beast.
Selene said she was afraid of thunder. I was, too.
The moment the thunder struck, the tension in my blood vessels, which had started to dissipate from the alcohol, tightened again.
This physical, instinctive panic came from that cursed wooden box lined with silver flakes.
I hugged myself, my knuckles white.
Years ago, five days after Pheisar brought me home, his father's illegitimate son decided to 'teach me a lesson' and locked me in a specialized silver-lined wooden box—wood on the outside, but the inner walls were coated with fine silver filings.
For a human, it would just be cold;
For a young wolf, it was t*****e that could make it shrink to near-death.
