Page 22 of Eternal

Dad.

He was close. Her dad was here and alive.

She didn’t have the mental capacity to explain her actions. She operated on some different plane, one she couldn’t identify.

All that mattered was following the overwhelming instinct that would lead to her father.

Mindless about questioning her actions, she slipped out the front door and headed for the woods. Her speed increased and soon she was running through the forest that lined the boundary of the twin alphas’ land.

Without missing a beat that would throw off her sprinting momentum she kicked off her sandals, oblivious that the carpet of rough prickly earth, sharp stones, and dried twigs marred the soles of her bare feet.

When her hair became entangled with branches of trees she whizzed past, she gathered her long tresses over her right shoulder and deftly and speedily braided her hair. She then whipped the hairband she kept on her wrist to secure her plait. She did that without stopping or slowing her pace.

For a minuscule second, she did question her speed, her strength. She hadn’t even broken out into a sweat and it felt as if she had been running without pause for a while.

She had no idea where she was; covering ground was the only thing that would take her to her father.

The closer she got the stronger his signature became.

Close.

She only stopped when she came across a stone-walled house. Reduced to a jog now, Farren entered the large stone structure without a worry for her safety,

She passed through the empty building until she came across a staircase that led underground.

Dad.

It was a dungeon. Not much different from the one from which she had helped Ashton rescue Duncan.

She acknowledged the cold. Her old self would have been a quivering mess by now. But not her. She was still burning up from the inside out.

The scent of her dad was now at its strongest.

Jogging deeper into the damp, stone-walled dungeon, she covered quite a distance, until finally, she found him.

Farren stopped dead in her tracks.

She would have barely recognized the man if it weren’t for his scent signature.

His hair was matted, his beard too, he was crouched in a corner of what looked to be a cell, except the steel-barred door was left open. But she discovered that he was chained to the wall by his ankle.

He slowly lifted his head at her presence. He rose to his bare feet, and the man before her looked to weigh no more than a child. His clothes were soiled and tattered. But when he looked into her eyes, she saw the man he had once been.

“My sweet, Farren. My daughter,” he rasped and Farren ran to him. She threw herself into his arms and was surprised to find that the strength he held her with didn’t reflect his outward appearance.

He hugged her tightly as she wept against his chest, soothing her when she couldn’t catch her breath through her labored sobs.

Eventually, he pulled away and held her before him.

“More beautiful than I imagined,” he said softly, wiping at her tears.

“Dad,” she cried and hugged him all over again. As the reality that her father was alive started to set in, she began to see things more clearly.

“Dad? Who did this to you?” she asked, seeing the deep ugly gashes on his face. She lifted his threadbare shirt and discovered even more angry fresh bruises.

“Why are you here in this place? Who brought you here? I don’t understand. Ashton and Duncan would not… Who hurt you this way?”

“Step away from the prisoner, Mistress, or risk being imprisoned beside him.”

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