Chapter 40

He must have started to topple, because Brayden's hand was on Wil's shoulder again, by turns holding him up and shaking him lightly. The prisoner was snarling, all at once gone from well-trained dog to rabid wolf, eyes wild and greedy and burning into Brayden. The prisoner tried to lunge, but only fell clumsily into Wil, awkwardly pinning him sideways on the cot. He growled and spat out curses at Brayden in his own language, guttural and ugly. Wil tried to get out from under the man, but didn't have the strength, didn't have the balance, didn't even have the presence of mind. He could only cry out feebly, pushing weakly and waiting for Brayden to rescue him.

And then Brayden did. Strong hands on Wil's shoulders, pulling him, supporting him. Wil let himself slump. He had no room for pride or self-respect, just let Brayden hold him up, and drag him away from the snarling creature flinging himself about on the narrow mattress.