Chapter 46 Does He Hate Her That Much

• The cold dungeon was a tomb carved from ice and despair, a brutal, isolated place that even the most hardened werewolves feared. By its name alone, it was a deadly, freezing cell where it was whispered no one ever returned. It was capable of freezing the life out of a werewolf within days, a fate so cruel that some chose immediate death over its slow, excruciating embrace.
• ​Elara lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, the only sounds of chirping and skittering of mice. She groaned, a harsh sound of agony, her teeth chattering so violently she feared they would shatter. She tried to shift, to seek any minuscule source of warmth, but the cold had engulfed her, seeped deep into her very bones. She could barely feel her limbs.
• ​“H-help…” she could barely speak, her lungs burning with the icy air. “P-please… h-help…”