Aidan.
Davian pulled the final loop of heavy iron chain tight around the bedpost, securing Daniel's wrists so firmly that the metal clinked sharply against the solid wood. We sat down on two heavy wooden chairs across from the bed, watching him like hawks.
Daniel slouched against the mattress, his head leaning back against the wooden frame. Blood was still dripping slowly from his split lip down onto his ruined velvet collar, and his chest heaved with every ragged breath he took.
"You're wasting your time," Daniel rasped, coughing up a spatter of red onto his cheek. "You can chain me up all you want, but the moment the sun breaks over that ridge, the Lycan prince's war bands are going to sweep through this pack… you can't stop it."
I leaned forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees and staring at him. The room was deathly quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the steady, rhythmic sound of Davian flipping his hunting knife over in his palm.
