Adele's POV:
The cold and damp dungeon was filled with an unpleasant moldy smell.
The werewolves didn't torture me and even gave me good food and shelter. However, this only made me despise their hypocrisy even more. They wanted to dig out my brain to see what was inside, so why did they have to pretend to be hypocritical and compassionate?
A group of uncivilized animals, the failed creation of the ancient witches, dared to claim to be civilized.
Lying on the hard bed, I stared into space as I killed time in boredom.
How long could I live?
I wondered.
I probably wouldn't be able to provide helpful information to the werewolf for more than a week because of the blood curse in my head; I couldn't say anything about Master.
A useless and dangerous captive would be the safest if she were dead, right?
I couldn't wait for the werewolves to burn me to death so that my cruel master would only get a useless burnt corpse.
