WITH THE MOON coming and Sabrina’s magical assistance, it didn’t take long for Leon to get hard again. Sabrina pushed him to the floor and climbed on top of him, facing away from him. Leon had his hands on her tits, stroking and working them. As Leon bucked up into Sabrina, he noticed that they were both watching Alfie, still sleeping.
He seemed to be restless, rolling and moving. His chains clanging against the bars every time he tried to twist too far.
Sabrina put her hands over Leon’s on her tits, urging him to twist and work them harder, tightening his fingers on her nipples, fighting her way to another climax.
But Leon was watching Alfie’s face, wondering what he was thinking. And then Alfie said something, barely really spoke, but his lips moved and Leon went cold. He knew exactly what word had just formed on Alfie’s lips. A word Leon hated and dreaded. A word that made him feel sick inside.
‘Iris.’
It was as if Leon’s jealousy of Iris was the biggest thing he’d ever felt. More than his loyalty to Alfie or to Sabrina. He hurt inside. Then, in that moment of grief, he just wanted to get away from this place. Rip himself away.
Behind him on the floor was a metal tray that Divinia had brought him his evening meal on hours ago. He slipped his right hand off Sabrina’s body and groped on the floor. His fingers found the rim of it in seconds and he lifted it up, moving as fast as he could, and smashed Sabrina around the head.
Sabrina fell on to the floor. Out cold. Leon scrambled out from underneath her and started to drag his jeans back on, looking frantically towards the door. There was no sign Divinia had been alerted by the noise of his attack.
Alfie was still rolling around, muttering a little more loudly now, ‘Iris. Iris.’
The only window in the cellar was high and small. ‘Wolves escape,’ Leon whispered to himself as he got it in his sights and leapt.