He tugged at the chain lightly, testing its strength. It did not move at all. He pulled harder, the muscles in his arms tightening with effort… Still nothing. The chains held firm, and the resistance only made his irritation grow.
"Where is Seraphina?" he muttered under his breath, scanning every shadowy corner. "And how did I even end up here?"
He closed his eyes briefly, forcing his mind to sift through the jumbled memories. The corrupted witches. The battlefield. The moment he lost control. The moment Midnight surged forward with too much force.
Everything blurred together until nothing made sense, except for the sharp wave of anger that rippled through him at the thought of Seraphina lying somewhere wounded while he was chained like this.
He pulled again, harder this time. Midnight was strangely calm, and unmoving, like he was in a deep slumber. Alaric gritted his teeth, pulling once more in desperation.
The chain remained stubbornly still.
