Octavia
“Now is my chance,” I whispered.
Rising to my feet, I grabbed one of the chains, braced a foot against the wall, and began pulling. The wood creaked, filling me with hope. I pulled again, harder, putting every ounce of strength into it.
Yes. Free us and stop this terrible idea!
I froze, my wolf’s voice echoing in my mind, something I was still getting used to.
“Sorry? What terrible idea?” I asked.
The king’s ceremony, of course. Let’s stop it before it’s too late.
“That’s why you think I’m doing this?”
No. I know your thoughts. Despite keeping me trapped for years, I’ve always known your thoughts.
“Then what on earth are you saying?”
I’m helping you.
“Helping me? Helping me would mean getting us out of here, then finding another weapon to either stab or shoot the king.”
