Prophecy – Chapter 5 – Chains

Prophecy – Chapter 5

The beating had not ended cleanly.

It had started outside, where they had kept him chained in the open as they always did, the chain fixed to the post, the ground beneath him worn hard from pacing that never went anywhere. The first strike had come without warning, driving him forward and almost onto his knees.

Ghost had not reacted. That had irritated William more than anything else.

By the time they dragged him across the yard, the world had already begun to tilt at the edges, pain settling into his ribs, his shoulder, the side of his face. He did not resist as they hauled him, one of them gripping the chain at his throat, another shoving him forward when his footing slipped. Gravel bit into his knees once, then again, but he did not make a sound.

They threw him into the shed as though he weighed nothing.

He hit the packed earth hard enough that the breath left him for a moment, his vision flashing white before settling again into something dimmer, narrower. The smell of rust and old wood pressed in around him as William followed him inside.

The others stayed at the door, shadows against the fading light.

“You think I don’t see things?” William said, crouching in front of him, close enough that Ghost could feel the heat of him. “You lost those tracks on purpose.”

Ghost said nothing, his gaze lowered, not in submission but because there was nothing there worth looking at.

William watched him for a long moment, searching for something that was not offered.

“You’re close. Just over a week now,” he continued, quieter, more deliberate. “First shift. That’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t get ideas about being more than what you are.”

He spat near Ghost’s hand, the gesture casual, habitual.

“When it happens, we move camp. New territory. New wolves.”

The meaning of it settled heavy, though Ghost gave no sign that he had heard.

“But before that,” William added, leaning in slightly, “you’re going to learn something.”

Ghost’s eyes lifted then, just enough to meet his.

“You’re going to learn who is in charge.”

The next strike came without warning, driving him back into the wall hard enough to rattle the boards. Pain flared, sharp and immediate, then settled again into something quieter, something he could ignore.

William straightened, satisfied for now, and stepped out of the shed.

The bolt slammed into place.

Time slipped after that. Voices drifted beyond the walls as the camp settled into its usual rhythm, laughter careless, a dog barking once before being silenced, the low murmur of men who believed themselves untouchable.

Hunger came with it.

At first it was distant, a dull emptiness, but it tightened steadily, sharpening into something that pulled at him from the inside. A growing shifter burned through food faster than any of them understood, and William knew it well enough to use it.

Ghost sat with his back to the wall, breathing slow and steady, letting the pain and hunger settle where they would.

He did not sleep.

He waited.

The bolt slid back.

The door opened just enough for a narrow figure to slip through before closing again.

Jacob.

He paused, letting his eyes adjust, then crossed the space and crouched beside Ghost, already pulling a small bundle from beneath his coat.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I brought you something.”

Bread. Dried meat.

He pressed it into Ghost’s hands.

“Eat.”

Ghost hesitated.

Jacob’s mouth twitched faintly. “Don’t be stupid.”

The food disappeared quickly, the sharp edge of the hunger easing enough to think again.

Jacob leaned back against the opposite wall, knife turning idly between his fingers, his attention never quite leaving Ghost.

“They’re so suspicious,” he said after a moment. “About the pups. About you.”

Ghost continued eating, unhurried now.

“You’re terrible at pretending you don’t understand things,” Jacob added.

Ghost finished the last of the meat and handed the cloth back.

Jacob folded it neatly and tucked it away.

The door burst open.

William stood there, filling the space, four hunters behind him.

His gaze went straight to Ghost’s hands, then to Jacob.

“Ah,” Jacob murmured, as though something mildly expected had finally arrived.

William stepped inside and struck him before he could turn fully, the blow cracking across Jacob’s mouth and driving him into the wall.

Jacob stayed down for half a heartbeat, then pushed himself upright again.

Blood touched the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away, glanced at it, and smiled.

One of the hunters lunged, knife already drawn, aiming to finish it quickly.

Jacob moved first.

He slipped aside, caught the man’s wrist, and drove the blade up beneath his ribs in the same motion. The hunter folded with a broken sound as Jacob let him drop heavily to the ground.

The second man came in from behind, blade raised for Jacob’s spine.

Ghost moved.

The chain snapped as he surged forward, tearing free from the collar as he hit the man hard enough to drive him into the dirt. The breath left him in a violent rush.

Jacob was already there.

His knife drove down once, then again, the second strike ending it.

The shed fell silent. The remaining hunters stepped back instinctively, their eyes flicking to William.

Jacob straightened slowly, wiping the blade clean, his expression settling back into something disturbingly easy.

“Well,” he said, glancing at Ghost, “that worked out.”

Ghost rose, controlled, the broken iron hanging loose against his throat.

Jacob’s gaze flicked to it.

“Honestly,” he said lightly, “you could have done that earlier.”

Ghost did not answer at once.

He stood where he was, breathing steady despite the pain, the loosened iron resting against his throat as though it had never held him. For a few seconds it seemed as though the question would pass unanswered, just another thing allowed to fade into the quiet he had always kept.

Then his gaze shifted to Jacob.

“It wasn’t necessary.”

His voice was low, rough with lack of use, but clear.

William stilled.

Behind him, one of the men shifted his footing, the movement small but out of place in a room that had been so certain a moment before.

Jacob watched him, the corner of his mouth lifting slowly. “Right,” he said.

William drew himself up again, pulling control back into place where it had slipped. “This isn’t over.”

Jacob didn’t turn. “Yeah, right.”

Ghost said nothing more. But there was the faintest shift at the corner of his mouth as he looked at Jacob, something that might have been a smile… or the beginning of one.

Chapter 4

Chapter 6