Chronicles of Araxx - Forever Broken
Chapter 4

“Get those silvers on him now!” Jones shouted at Thompson.

Kane was struggling to get free, and if they didn’t get the silvers on him soon, the captive alpha would shift and they would have real trouble getting him contained again.

Thompson pulled the silver chain cuffs from his pocket and clasped them to Kane’s wrists. He was strong, but the silvers weakened him enough so Thompson could control him.

The chains looked painful. They pinched at the skin and hair beneath, but it was what the werewolf deserved. He was a monster hiding in human skin.

“You bastard!” Kane yelled. “Smart to use silver, though.” He laughed.

It was an unnerving sound and caused shivers to run through Thompson’s whole body. Everything about the alpha was wrong, but he was not the focus of the mission, and Thompson had to remember that.

Kane laughed again, and looked Thompson directly in the eyes, boring into his soul.

Kane’s eyes were as bright as grass. He was handsome looking too, not what Thompson was expecting. When he was told the mission involved the alpha werewolf, Thompson had an image in his head.

He thought Kane would have shaggy hair, a scraggy beard, smell, and have eyes like a wolf, but he was wrong. Kane looked like a normal man, except he wasn’t. None of the men in this building was normal, and all of them were werewolves.

All except the girl in the next room, the reason they were here in this dark, dank place.

“Sir, he’s laughing,” Thompson said to Jones. He was feeling extremely uncomfortable.

“What?” Jones questioned. He wasn’t interested in the alpha. His real prize was on the other side of the wooden door, probably hiding like a scared child. He had to get to her quickly before the poor thing died of fright. She must have been terrified, being held by the werewolves most of her life.

“He won’t stop laughing.” Thompson sounded worried.

“You have no idea.” Kane laughed.

When the laughing grew louder, Jones slammed Kane into the door to stop him from laughing.

“She’s in there. Get that door open.”

One of the other men tried the door. He rattled it by the handle but the door did not open.

“It’s locked,” he said.

“Of course, it’s locked,” Jones said. “Where’s the key?”

Kane just started laughing again. “As if I’m going to tell you... Ugh.”

Thompson punched him in the stomach. He was getting sick of Kane’s laughing.

“Break it down!” Jones yelled. He took over holding Kane captive while the others used a battering ram to break through the door.

Three men in total, Thompson, Smith and Reynolds repeatedly banged at the wooden door until it came loose.

They did not know what they would find on the other side.

All they had been told was that the Hemplesworth girl had been kept there for the last few years and that she had been a werewolf prisoner for more than half of her life. They only had a picture of the girl taken when she was small, only seven years old. Bright red hair. It was the Hemplesworth girl’s most distinct feature and the only thing they would know her by when they saw her.

They finally burst the door down.

They rushed through the door to rescue the girl, only to find a red headed girl dressed in rags, barefoot and dirty, climbing out of the window at the back of her cell.

The cell was dirty too. It had a foul smell and it was clear the poor girl was being kept in squalled conditions.

The girl escaping was the last thing they expected.

They were coming to save her, and she was running away from them.

Jones expected her to be curled up in the corner, crying, scared. They all did, but she was clearly tougher than that.

Kane noticeably tensed when he saw his prisoner escaping and shouted, “Idiots!” He was still laughing, though, a manic laugh that was not right for the situation.

Why would he be laughing?

The prisoner he held captive for years was escaping him, and he was going to be incarcerated by the Araxx, but for some reason, he found pleasure in his situation.

Thompson looked down at him, then back to the girl framed in the window.

Just as she was leaving, the girl did something none of them expected.

She turned around, looked right at Kane and stuck her middle finger up at him. If it were in different circumstances, Thompson might have laughed. “Got to admire her spirit,” he said out loud.

“Someone, get her,” Jones called out. “We can’t let her run off on her own. Heaven knows what trouble she will get herself into.”

“Yes, Sir!” Smith saluted.

Thomson had always thought he was a strange one. He acted as though they were in an army, not an organisation, but the man could get any job done.

Smith ran out of the room, making his way to the nearest door. He barged through, almost knocking himself over as he opened the heavy door.

A gunshot rang out, echoing off the walls of the castle.

One of the familiars had shot at Smith, but his clumsy aim missed.

Smith dove for the man, knocking him to the ground, unconscious. When he looked up again, the girl was gone.

“Damn!” He shouted.

The others caught up with him, coming through the door he’d busted through.

“She got away?” Jones asked.

“Yeah.” Smith sighed.

“Silly children, you have no idea who that girl is.” Kane laughed again.

“Get him into the van,” Jones ordered, gesturing towards the black van coming down the drive. “We have to get back to the Institute.”

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