CHAPTER 73: CHAPTER 73

She touched her chest with her eyes widened like a deep memory of hers had been struck.

"I can actually mind-link him," Sasha admitted once again.

I gave her an expectant look that practically begged her to continue. You can do it.

"I’ve never tried this before, but... here it is." She inhaled deeply, scooted until her back pressed firmly against the cold wall, then shut both eyes. Her hands lifted slightly, palms hovering in the air as her fingers curved inward like she was meditating.

I bit my lips in anxiety, nearly chewing it raw. My heart throbbed painfully in my chest as I watched her breathe in, breathe out. The room felt suddenly smaller, the air heavier, like everything depended on this single moment.

"Brian," she whispered.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. A small crease formed between her brows, then smoothed out again. Father and I exchanged hopeful glances. I didn’t know if it was false hope, but it was hope nonetheless.

Sasha’s breath hitched.

"I feel... something," she muttered, still not opening her eyes. "Like a string tugging at the edge of my consciousness."

"That’s good." I encouraged her softly. My voice cracked embarrassingly on the last word. "Just pull it closer."

She didn’t answer. Her lashes fluttered as her breathing became deliberate, steady. The dim torchlight flickered weakly across her face, illuminating the concentration in her features.

Seconds stretched.

Then, her back arched with a tiny gasp.

"I— I hear him."

My heart flew to my throat. Father straightened, the chains clinking loudly.

"You do?" I asked, almost choking on the question.

She nodded sharply. "His voice is faint, but it’s him."

A tear spilled down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it.

"Brian." Her voice trembled. "Brian, can you hear me? I...I need your help. We’re trapped. Mother...she’s not...she’s not who we thought she was. Brian, listen to me,"

Suddenly, Sasha flinched violently.

A choked sound escaped her lips.

"No. no. no." Her fingers curled into fists midair. "Something’s pulling him away, something’s—"

She gasped sharply.

Then her head jerked back as if someone snapped a cord inside her mind.

"SASHA!" I cried.

Her eyes flew open, pupils shrinking like she’d stared into bright light. She panted, chest heaving, and nearly slumped sideways, but the chains held her upright.

"What happened?" Father asked, voice thick with fear.

She coughed. "The link... went through... I spoke to him. He heard me." Her voice faltered, expression twisting in fear. "But something cut it off. Something stronger."

"What do you mean stronger?" I pressed, dread collecting in my stomach like stones.

"I don’t know." She shivered visibly. "It felt like... like a wall crashing down between us. Like someone slammed a door inside my head."

She lowered her gaze to her bound hands.

"I think someone blocked the link."

My blood ran cold.

"Mother?" I whispered.

Sasha nodded slowly. "If she can suppress powers, or if she’s working with someone who can... then mind-links wouldn’t slip past her."

The torch at the wall hissed softly, shrinking into a flickering red ember. Shadows lunged across the room like dark hands reaching toward us.

For a moment, none of us spoke.

Father exhaled shakily. "Try again."

Sasha shook her head, breath uneven. "Let me breathe first."

Her lips trembled violently. I could see panic lurking behind her eyes, threatening to swallow her whole. She wasn’t used to this kind of pressure. She wasn’t used to stakes like this, not life, not death, and not the burden of being the only one who could call for help.

I swallowed hard. "We don’t have time, Sasha."

She nodded again, jaw tightening this time. She straightened her posture, wet her lips, and leaned back into the wall once more.

"Okay," she whispered. "I’m trying."

Her eyes slipped shut. Her fingers curled delicately. Her breathing steadied.

But nothing happened.

Seconds passed.

Then a minute and five more minutes.

Her brows furrowed deeply.

"I can’t feel him," she breathed finally, sounding terrified.

"Try harder," Father urged.

"I am!" her voice cracked. She clenched her jaw and lifted her hands again. "Brian. Brian... Brian, come on..."

Silence. The kind that made your ears ring.

She tried again, this time with her breathing more desperate, her shoulders shaking.

Still nothing.

I felt helpless, utterly helpless. It was like watching someone drowning and being tied up too tightly to reach out.

"Sasha, breathe," I whispered, though I didn’t know how to breathe myself.

She opened her eyes and they were wet.

"He’s gone. I don’t feel him at all."

A sob tore out of her chest, short and strangled. She quickly bit her lip to smother it, refusing to break down completely.

"He’s not gone," Father said, even though his own voice shook. "Something is blocking you."

Her jaw trembled. "If something can block this, then who knows what else Mother can do?"

I didn’t have an answer. My mind spun with dread, my heartbeat sinking deeper into despair. If Brian couldn’t hear us... if Trevor was stuck in the cursed lands... if Alice was taken to gods-know-where...

Then we were alone.

For real.

My throat ached. "We just need one person to hear us," I whispered, more to myself than to them.

"One person who isn’t inside this madness."

"But we can’t reach anyone," Sasha whispered. "Our wolves are numb. Mine can barely stir. I don’t even feel yours, Maria. Not a trace."

I felt the truth of that. My wolf had been sleepy, muffled, distant. Probably because the room was enchanted, or maybe because Laura wanted us powerless.

Father lowered his head. "We can’t solve anything in here. Whatever is happening is bigger than just rogue blood or curses. Laura planned this for a long time."

Something in me cracked.

I hated how powerless I was.

I hated the chains.

I hated the dim light.

I hated the cold floor.

I hated not knowing if Trevor was alive.

I hated that the people who once called themselves my family wanted me dead.

I slammed my fist against the wall, metal biting into my wrist. "We need to get out of here."

The sound echoed across the room, a hollow promise.

Sasha shut her eyes, tears leaking silently. "Brian heard me. He did. But it’s like something yanked him away."

"What did he sound like?" I asked gently.

She hiccuped softly. "He sounded afraid."

Afraid. That word twisted painfully inside me.

"What if..." She hesitated. "What if he’s hurt? Or captured? What if Mother already—"

"DON’T." I snapped too quickly, voice trembling. "Don’t finish that sentence."

She closed her mouth.

Father sighed. "Whether he’s hurt or not, whether he can reach us or not, we must keep trying. Someone will break through eventually."

But the way he said it felt like he was trying to convince himself more than us.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. The air was cold enough to sting the inside of my nose. My wrists burned where the metal rubbed skin. My legs were numb, tingling painfully.

The fear of losing Trevor crawled under my skin until my whole body felt too tight.

"Let me try again," Sasha whispered suddenly.

I looked at her. Her face was pale, exhausted, eyes red-rimmed, but determined.

She took another deep breath, steadied herself, and closed her eyes once more.

"Brian," she muttered. "Please... hear me. Please..."

Her lips moved soundlessly.

Seconds later, her head snapped forward like someone pushed her.

She gasped and clutched her temples. "No. No. Stop."

"Sasha!" I screamed.

She shook her head wildly, trying to break whatever invisible force gripped her mind.

Then, without warning, she screamed.

"SASHA!"

Father jerked violently, chains clattering. "Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!"

But there was nothing I could do. Nothing to break her out of that mental chokehold.

She cried out like something was prying into her mind, like claws dragging across her thoughts.

Then, It stopped.

Sasha slumped forward, gasping for breath. Sweat dripped from her forehead.

I leaned closer. "Sasha, what happened?"

She lifted her eyes slowly. Fear lived in them, pure, primal fear.

"Someone answered," she whispered.

My breath hitched. "Brian?"

She shook her head. "No."

Her voice lowered to a tremble.

"It wasn’t Brian. It wasn’t him at all."

"What did the voice say?" Father asked cautiously.

She swallowed hard. "Just one thing."

"What?" I whispered.

Her lips parted.

"’Stop calling for help.’"

Ice flooded my veins. I felt it, the cold, suffocating dread spreading from my chest to my fingertips.

Sasha shivered violently.

"It wasn’t a mind-link," she whispered. "It was like... like something hijacked it. Like someone was waiting for me to try."

The room felt colder. My spine tingled. The shadows on the walls shifted like they were alive.

A whisper that wasn’t really a whisper echoed inside my mind: We are not alone in here.

I hugged myself with bound hands, fighting the rising panic.

Sasha’s breathing turned shaky again. "Maria, someone is watching us."

Father stared at the only door, jaw clenching. "We must be silent. Whatever listens in the dark, must not hear us speak."

I didn’t argue.

For once, silence felt safer.

But deep inside, a terrifying truth gnawed at me:

If Mother didn’t want us calling for help.

If someone in the shadows could hear us.

If our links were being cut.

Then Laura wasn’t working alone.

Someone, or something , was helping her. I didn’t mean just someone. I meant that a dark force was assisting her.

And we were trapped with no escape.