Eleanor’s POV
Ash followed me down the winding staircase. I continued to scan the area for signs of life and had my clawed hand ready to strike. We crept down the final few stairs, where I spotted another guard nodding to sleep. I grinned, knowing it would be easy to dispose of him. And it was. I slit his throat, and he died without making a sound.
I looked down the narrow hallway and noticed that there were only four cells. We weren’t at a werewolf pack then. I had learned early on that most werewolf packs had an entire floor dedicated to the art of torture and dungeoneering. I wondered if this was Prusilla’s home, then. Seemed logical with the lack of werewolves and smallness of space I sensed. I approached the first two cells and saw a huddled figure in each.
They were easy to find.
