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    The Hidden Realm - Novella 2: Astral Clash Series, #2
    The Hidden Realm - Novella 2: Astral Clash Series, #2
    The Hidden Realm - Novella 2: Astral Clash Series, #2
    Ebook82 pages1 hour

    The Hidden Realm - Novella 2: Astral Clash Series, #2

    By Henley Grey

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    Read preview

    About this ebook

    The shadowy organization struggles to maintain their grip upon the Colosseum, amidst the battle waging within its walls. Wesley proves to be more troublesome than anyone could have anticipated, including the Associates.

    Max Carter and Edward Houghton find themselves in roles which they are unaccustomed. Edward fights for his very survival, while Max faces a dilemma he never thought possible. He may not be expendable any longer.

    Wesley Finton decides to face the fact he is alone in this fight. His situation worsens when the dangers of the Colosseum attack him and his friends in the real world.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHenley Grey
    Release dateJun 21, 2017
    ISBN9781386308522
    The Hidden Realm - Novella 2: Astral Clash Series, #2

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      Book preview

      The Hidden Realm - Novella 2 - Henley Grey

      About the book

      Title page

      Chapter Twenty-one

      Chapter Twenty-two

      Chapter Twenty-three

      Chapter Twenty-four

      Chapter Twenty-five

      Chapter Twenty-six

      Chapter Twenty-seven

      Chapter Twenty-eight

      Chapter Twenty-nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Chapter Thirty-one

      Chapter Thirty-two

      Chapter Thirty-three

      Chapter Thirty-four

      Chapter Thirty-five

      Chapter Thirty-six

      Chapter Thirty-seven

      Author’s notes

      About the book

      The shadowy organization struggles to maintain their grip upon the Colosseum, amidst the battle waging within its walls. Wesley proves to be more troublesome than anyone could have anticipated, including the Associates.

      Max Carter and Edward Houghton find themselves in roles which they are unaccustomed. Edward fights for his very survival, while Max faces a dilemma he never thought possible. He may not be expendable any longer.

      Wesley Finton decides to face the fact he is alone in this fight. His situation worsens when the dangers of the Colosseum attack him and his friends in the real world.

      Title page

      The Hidden Realm

      Astral Clash Series

      HENLEY GREY

      Volume Two

      ––––––––

      Digital Edition

      Copyright © 2017 Henley Grey

      All rights reserved. This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

      Chapter Twenty-one

      The repetitive squeak from the wheelchair reverberated along the corridor. Each slow, drawn out noise signified he was one rotation closer to death. They had seemed to have been moving along the same hallway forever; the squeak, the echo, all of it identical from the start. The words were clear now. The first time he had heard them, he hadn’t been listening. You should have been listening, he chastised himself. Every word had meaning now, and they were clearer than cut crystal. He wanted to cry again, but he appeared to have cried himself out. Harry hadn’t realized that was possible, to cry so much that your body actually refused to give you more.

      The stinging was relentless. The salt from the tears had settled around his eyes and he couldn’t wipe it away. His breathing was constricted by the hood over his face. It was so tight that his eyelashes rubbed against the coarse material as he blinked. The binds around his wrists and ankles felt tighter than before, and his legs still ached from being bundled into the van. He was dragged from the street and in his attempt to kick his way free, he had only managed to hit the solid frame of the vehicle.

      The squeaking stopped. What now? He thought. The sound of a mechanical movement suddenly echoed along the corridor. The elevator moved upwards towards Harry. He could make out what the noise was long before the doors parted and the wheelchair squeaked inside. Closing with a clunk, the mechanism lowered the lift down into the depths of wherever he was. Harry had never been a fan of elevators; he couldn’t handle the enclosed space for too long. He recalled as a child, how he had been locked in a supermarket elevator. Even with glass windows he felt trapped and alone.

      The squeaking commenced again. This time the echo didn’t seem to reach out as far. The sound of chattering in the distance caught his attention. Who is that? What are they saying? he wondered. How had it come to this? he asked himself silently. It was that boy. He had killed him, just as if he had done it himself. The voices ceased as the wheelchair banged through the double doors.

      Sign here, a man’s voice said.

      Thank you, replied a female voice.

      Sign here? Harry wasn’t a parcel. He wasn’t some kind of shopping network kitchen utensil. He was a person; a living breathing, terrified person!

      The hood was removed. The glare of a green light made Harry turn his head away. Slowly his eyes adjusted and he was able to take in his surroundings. The room was small and confined; the majority of its space taken up by a huge desk covered in paper. A young Asian woman stood over an even younger man. He was in his late teens, and sitting at the desk. He stared at some paperwork. The woman was in her early twenties with raven black hair. She peered over him like a teacher correcting her students’ work.

      So do I tick this box? he asked puzzled.

      Yes, you mark that box. That says you received the delivery, she explained. And then you mark that box right there when you've finished.

      Got it, he said from behind a stack of papers. He’s quiet, he observed.

      Most of them are. They tend to be in a state of shock, she told her pupil, as if Harry wasn’t even there.

      Moving around the desk, she leaned forward and stared deeply into Harry’s eyes. He’s not a squawker. He’ll be a good starter, she said.

      Squawker? he asked.

      Yes, some of them squawk and scream. It’s quite disconcerting.

      Harry remained silent, looking at the two of them as they talked about him. He couldn't be sure if the reason he couldn't speak was from fear or his fear of the answer he would get in return. Harry never thought it would end here, in a basement.

      What’s your name? Harry croaked. His words were

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