The man was chained by his wrists and ankles to the cold floor of the dungeon. The raw skin in contact with the silver chains bled when he tried to change position. His wolf was restless in his constant attempt to cure his injuries but the silver was and will still be there until the king decided to free him or kill him. He was not sure. Three days had passed since the failed attack and the king didn’t usually take much time to execute the ones who deceived him. That could be a good sign. Maybe, he was going to get his pardon.
“Kallan”
A voice of a warrior behind him woke him up from his thoughts. He had been chained facing the wall so he had already learned every shape and scratch from the bricks in front of him as an exercise to forget the deep pain the silver inflicted on
