Chapter 8 : Planning Her Escape
456 Words
Days blurred into nights, each one heavier than the last. The rogues feasted and celebrated in the halls that had once belonged to her family, their howls echoing through the forest. Every sound was a reminder of what she had lost.
Isaac rarely left her alone. When he wasn’t dragging her into public view as his prize, he was hovering near her like a shadow, reminding her that she belonged to him—even if only in his twisted mind.
But Everleigh endured.
She kept her eyes lowered when he paraded her. She bit her tongue when his words sliced at her pride. She let him believe her fire was dimming.
Inside, it burned brighter than ever.
On the third night, she slipped from her room after the guards grew careless, their drunken laughter spilling through the corridors. Barefoot, silent as a shadow, she crept toward the back staircase.
Her heart pounded as she pressed herself against the wall, listening. Rogues snored nearby, bottles clattered across the floor, the stench of ale heavy in the air.
Now.
She slid down the staircase, every step a prayer. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she reached the storage room, fingers trembling as she dug through the shelves.
And there—tucked beneath a pile of furs—she found it. A dagger. Old, rusted, but sharp enough to pierce flesh.
Her fingers curled tightly around the hilt. Hope surged through her veins, fierce and dangerous.
A plan began to take shape. She couldn’t fight Isaac head-on. Not yet. But she could wait. Watch. Learn. And when the moment came, she would be ready.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
Everleigh froze.
“Little wolf.” Isaac’s voice slithered from the shadows, low and amused.
She whirled, the dagger clutched in her hand.
Isaac stepped into the doorway, his dark eyes gleaming as he leaned lazily against the frame. “And here I thought you were beginning to accept your place.”
Her grip tightened, her pulse racing. “I will never accept it.”
His smile curved slow and cruel. “Good. Defiance makes the game so much more entertaining.”
He advanced, step by step, and Everleigh’s heart hammered against her ribs.
But inside, beneath the fear, her wolf whispered one truth:
Not tonight. But soon.
She slipped the dagger into the folds of her hoodie, hiding it against her side.
Isaac’s hand brushed her cheek as he passed, his gaze sharp and knowing. “Careful, little wolf. You might bite off more than you can chew.”
When he left, Everleigh exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest.
The dagger’s weight was heavy against her side, but it was not a burden.
It was a promise.
- Writer
