Kestrel’s pov
My legs become weak, trembling so badly I can barely stand. What the hell is this place? I fall to my knees on the cold concrete floor, my hands shaking as I try to push myself back up. But it's too late.
They see me. They smell me. Fresh meat. Prey.
The hyenas move first, slinking out of their cages with their heads low and their eyes fixed on me. Their laughter echoes through the room, that horrible cackling sound that makes my skin crawl. Then the wolves emerge, massive beasts that are easily twice the size of normal wolves, their fur bristling with aggression, saliva dripping from their fangs.
There are at least ten of them. Maybe more. All starved, all wild, all focused entirely on me.
"Please," I whisper, though I don't know who I'm talking to. The goddess maybe. A
