Claimed by My Fiance’s Savage Alpha Uncle
Self-pity wouldn’t get me out of here.
As I sat there, hollowed out by regret, I felt a warmth in my hand. The shard, which I’d been clutching so tightly that my knuckles were white, was glowing. A soft, pulsating blue light emanated from its carved lines. It grew warmer, and the light strengthened, pushing back the darkness of my prison.
Then, it pulsed. Not randomly. A distinct, rhythmic thrum, like a heartbeat. And with each pulse, a corresponding glyph on the wall opposite me faintly illuminated for a second. A sequence. A pattern.
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