They land hard.
One moment Kyle feels the world twist around him, the forest yanked from his sight, the air sucked from his lungs.
The next, his feet hit cold, cracked stone, and the sharp sting shoots up his legs. The witches release him, and he stumbles, nearly falling to his knees.
The place smells of damp earth and something metallic, sharp and biting at the back of his throat.
Kyle lifts his head, heart hammering against his ribs. The building is ancient, walls covered in crumbling ivy, long-forgotten symbols scorched deep into the stone.
The dim light filters through broken windows, casting twisted shadows across the floor.
More witches are around.
They circle him slowly, their dark cloaks brushing against the dusty ground.
Their faces are mostly hidden under hoods, but Kyle can feel their eyes_ hollow, greedy, roaming over him like wolves sizing up prey.
Justine stands among them.
The air is thick, almost solid, vibrating with a power that makes his skin crawl.
Panic scratches at his chest. His wolf stirs, restless and growling, but the beast within stills in contentment.
The runes on the walls seem to pulse, breathing in a rhythm that has nothing to do with life.
Candles, scattered across the room, burn with sickly green flames, their smoke curling in strange patterns.
Kyle searches wildly for an exit, for any weakness in their circle, but the magic here presses against him like a cage.
It squeezes the air from his lungs, clouds his mind.
He knows he can't fight them using the beast inside of him because it belongs to them, and his wolf is way weaker.
Before he can make another move, a hand like iron clamps down on his arm.
He jerks, instinct flaring, but the grip only tightens, cutting off any hope of pulling free.
It's the same man, The one that seems like the leader. He is bigger than the others.
His presence radiates authority, danger humming around him like a storm ready to break.
Without a word, the man yanks Kyle forward, dragging him across the cracked floor.
Kyle stumbles, his shoes scraping against the stone, but the leader doesn't slow.
The other witches barely glance at them as they pass. Some lounge near dying fires, whispering in low, rasping voices.
The leader pulls him through a heavy door set deep into the back wall.
The hinges groan loudly, and a wave of heavier magic hits Kyle like a punch to the gut.
His stomach twists violently.
The door slams shut behind them, cutting off the murmur of the others.
Inside, the room is small and suffocating.
Symbols claw up the walls in dark, jagged ink. Chains hang from iron hooks embedded in the stone.
The air is thick, almost sticky, buzzing with restrained power. It smells stronger in here, blood and burnt herbs, and it makes Kyle's head spin.
The leader finally releases him, shoving him roughly toward the center of the room.
Kyle catches himself on unsteady legs, chest heaving.
His eyes dart around, searching for any way out, but the walls feel too close, too strong. There's a narrow window set high near the ceiling, but it's barred, the moonlight barely leaking through.
The moment he realizes escape isn't an option, something tightens in his chest.
Maybe words will buy him time. He needs to stay grounded, to think clearly.
"Okay! Okay, fine! I'll do it, I'll do whatever you want me to do," he says. His voice trembles at the edges, but he forces himself to sound sure. He looks like he means it. But he doesn't. He's stalling, desperate for a way out.
"No, you don't mean that. You never did, you can never fool us, don't be stupid like your parents, they thought they fooled us, they underestimated us, " the man replies, his voice cold and unwavering.
It cuts through the air, sharp and merciless, and Kyle feels it settle in his bones. "Your time ended the moment you chose to walk away from what was required of you."
Kyle's stomach twists. How could he have seen through him so easily? How did the man know that he didn't mean a thing?!
"We've decided there's a better use for you now," he continues, every word deliberate and heavy with threat. "Making a beast out of you is way better than keeping you."
Kyle's breath catches. His heartbeat thunders. There's no way out. Not anymore.
The man circles him once, slow and deliberate. Another two women follow.
Kyle stiffens under their gaze, feeling like prey caught in a snare.
"Are you ready?" the man asks.
The two women nod respectfully.
"Yes, sir," they answer at the same time, like programmed robots.
They start chanting without hesitation.
Kyle panics.
His heart hammers in his chest.
For a second, just a second, he thinks about giving up. About agreeing to do whatever they want him to do just to make it stop.
Becoming a beast feels worse than anything they could do to him.
But then, right in the middle of his panic, Lucan's scent hits him again.
He's close.
Relief crashes into Kyle so hard it nearly knocks the air out of him.
He has never been so sure of anything. Lucan is coming. He will find him. He will get him out of this.
All the secrets Kyle is still keeping from Lucan, all the things he hasn't said yet, disappear from his mind.
Right now, he just needs him. Needs him to come, to take him away from this nightmare.