Page 11 of Never Submit

They grow longer and sharper, taking on an almost metallic sheen as fur pushes through my pores, coarse and stark white, like a wild animal's pelt.

It's like something out of a nightmare.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t move, or look away, or do anything as my body changes.

The bars start to bend beneath the pressure of my strange transformation. A mix of fear and determination floods through me. I have to get out of here. With every ounce of strength I have, I push and strain with hands that are now not quite human.

To my absolute shock, the metal groans and protests. Eventually it bows enough for me to slip my body fully through.

I tumble free on the other side.

The instant I scramble to my feet, I look at my hands again.

What the actual?—

They're normal, no fur, no elongated nails. It's as if the bizarre transformation never happened. Okay, I am officially losing my mind.

I rub my forehead. When Andras knocked me out, he really did a number on me.

Was it all my imagination? Did Andras actually get into my head with this wolf thing? Or am I delirious from everything I’ve gone through?

Must be all of it.

I don't have time to dwell on it now. I need to find a way out of this place. I can lose my mind later.

I creep to the door. It’s crudely made—just a slab of bark with a rope for a handle—and it goes along with my idea of this hideout being man-made.

On a positive note, at least I don’t have to worry about another lock.

I press my ear against the door and listen. I can only hear the faint humming of a distant noise, but no distinct voices or footsteps, and my heart quickens with hope.

Whatever space lies on the other side seems to be empty. This is my chance.

Holding my breath, I take my chances and open the door. To my astonishment, the door swings open easily, revealing a long, dimly lit hallway.

Flickering torchlight casts eerie shadows on the rough-hewn rock walls, making it seem like I've entered a hidden underground world.

Cautiously, I poke my head out first. There are quiet murmurings of voices from somewhere in the distance but it’s impossible to hear them clearly, with the tunnel-like hallway sending the echoes everywhere and nowhere at once.

Well, I don’t need to stay here and wait for their owners to head my way.

Since the voices are definitely coming from the right, it’s obvious I shouldn’t head in that direction. So hopefully freedom lies in the opposite direction, to the left.

I slip through the open door and scan the dark corridor. No Andras. No other wolves.

Guess they really didn’t expect me to escape the cage, huh?

Good. Underestimate me.

I dare them.

With each cautious step, my gaze dances around the shadows. There are a few more poorly made doors but nothing else. Just one long winding tunnel with the lit torches barely cutting through the density of the darkness.

And so far, no signs of an exit, either.

The air is heavy with a musty, earthy scent, and my footsteps reverberate softly on the uneven stone floor. As I creep along, the sense of unease in the pit of my stomach grows, even though the voices behind me grow fainter.

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