Chapter 5
410 Words
The day dragged on in the caves, each hour bleeding into the next until time lost its meaning.
Amber sat on the edge of her bed, counting breaths, listening to the drip of water and the distant
clank of iron doors. Ever since The Watcher had vanished into the shadows, the air felt charged, as
if the caves themselves were waiting.
Amie barely spoke. When she did, her voice was hushed and brittle, as though even the stone
might be listening. The other prisoners kept their heads down, eyes hollow, fear carved deep into
their faces.
When footsteps echoed again, Amber stiffened. This time, more than one set approached.
The guards moved faster than before, urgency in their strides. Zane stopped outside Amber’s cell,
his expression unreadable. He didn’t tease. He didn’t smile.
“On your feet,” he said. “You’re being moved.”
Amber’s pulse spiked. “Moved where?”
Zane hesitated, just long enough to be noticed. “Somewhere you’ll be watched closely.”
The word sent a chill down her spine.
Iron bars screeched open. Zane gripped her arm—not cruelly, but firmly—and led her into a
different passage than before. The air here was warmer, the stone smoother beneath her bare feet.
Torches burned brighter, their flames steady, almost respectful.
They stopped before a door marked with a sigil Amber didn’t recognise. It pulsed faintly, as if alive.
Zane leaned closer. “Listen to me,” he said quietly. “Don’t fight what’s coming. The ones who fight
break fastest.”
Amber lifted her chin. “I’m not broken.”
Something like regret flickered across his face. Then he knocked.
Inside, the room was empty—no chains, no throne, no Court. Just a single chair and a narrow
window cut high into the stone. For the first time since her capture, Amber saw it.
Light.
A thin beam of pale daylight spilled across the floor, weak but unmistakable. Her breath hitched.
She hadn’t realised how badly she needed it until now.
The door closed behind her.
She stepped into the light, letting it warm her skin, her wolf stirring weakly beneath the wolfsbane’s
haze. Hope flared—dangerous and bright.
Then a voice spoke from the shadows.
“You seek the sun,” the Watcher said. “But you are not ready for it yet.”
Amber turned slowly. He emerged from the darkness, calm and composed, eyes steady on hers.
- Writer
