CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
[Noah's POV].
Like any horror movie or story, the interrogation chamber was on the lower levels. Greyhound Prison was located far from the civilizations, just like the mines. The area looked like a typical estate, but within was fenced and barricaded, the dreaded place where captured rogues were kept.
"Alpha Noah," Jericho greeted with a bow. "Please allow me to show you to the room where our guest is being held."
Noah's jaw ticked as he rolled up his shirt with shaky hands, allowing his wolf a little bit of control. Cold sweat dripped down his seething flesh as they walked deeper through the narrow halls and down dim cobblestone stairs lit by torches hanging from the ceilings. The walls were moist, being underground, and the thick smell of dampness, blood, and burning flesh hung heavy in the air.
Noah's shoes clanged against the metal flooring of the lower prison hall as they passed the empty rooms lined on the sides. He clenched and unclenched his hand. The feral energy and right
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