Rise of the Forbidden Luna

Chapter 22: The Leverage

The cold stone floor bit into my cheek where Beta Richard had brutally struck me down. My head throbbed in rhythm with my racing heart as the heavy wooden dungeon doors slammed shut, locking me back in the dim, suffocating silence of the cells.

Slowly, I forced myself up from the dirt, my body aching with a deep, crushing fatigue. I didn't waste a single second crying over Richard's intense hatred for my family. Instead, I rushed across the damp cell toward the back wall, where my father, Marcus, hung limply from the iron chains fixed to the stone ceiling.

"Dad," I whispered, my hands trembling violently as I worked the heavy, rusted locks. With a final, desperate pull, the iron unlatched. Marcus collapsed forward, his weak, battered frame falling directly into my waiting arms.

I carefully guided him down to the ground, propping his back against the damp stone wall. Spotting an old wooden bucket of water in the dark corner of the cell, I quickly brought it over, cupping the cool liquid in my palms to wash the dirt from his cracked lips. He drank hungrily, his breathing shallow and ragged, but the moment his eyes lifted to my face, the raw pain in his gaze completely vanished.

Slowly, his trembling hand rose, his calloused fingers gently stroking my hair and touching my bruised cheek.

"You are the spitting image of your mother," my father whispered, his voice cracking with deep emotion. "She would be so incredibly proud of the resilient, beautiful woman you have grown to become."

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I leaned into his soothing touch. Sitting close together on the freezing floor, I finally had the chance to catch him up on my life. I narrated everything to him–the painful memory of my rebirth, the dark betrayal at the altar where my previous pack tried to execute me, and the shocking revelation that I hadn't even known I wasn't Richard’s biological daughter until a few weeks ago.

"Assuming I had known he wasn't my biological father, I would have searched the entire continent for you sooner," I murmured, my voice laced with bitter regret. "I would have saved you from this horrific dungeon a long time ago."

Marcus offered me a weak, comforting smile, his eyes shining with pure fatherly pride. "Do not carry that guilt, my child. I can die happy right now, simply knowing that my daughter is alive and standing before me."

My posture went completely rigid, my protective instincts flaring hot. "Richard won't give you that benefit, Dad. He is going to torture and kill me first just to force your hand."

Marcus shook his head slowly, his expression turning deeply grave. "Knowing the absolute cruelty of the man Richard is, even if I agree to sign those territory documents, he will still kill us both the moment he no longer has use for us. The only reason I have been able to remain alive until now is because I continuously refuse to sign his papers."

I frowned, studying his battered face. "Can't he just forge your signature?"

"No," my father explained softly. "The imperial courts require the royal signet stamp to make any transfer of pack territory legally valid. Only I know the secret location where that stamp is hidden. I was doing just fine keeping that secret safe... until you showed up."

I let out a dry, sarcastic smirk, gesturing around the dark, moldy cell. "Of course, Father. I can clearly see you have been living a life of absolute luxury and comfort down here."

Marcus let out a weak chuckle, but it quickly faded back into dread. "Before you arrived, the only thing Richard could do was devise different methods of physical torture to break my mind. But now, everything has changed. He has a leverage over me that he never possessed before. He has you."

Right on cue, the heavy iron hinges of the dungeon doors groaned loudly as they were thrown wide open.

My blood ran completely cold.

Alpha Richard strode back into the dim cell, an evil, triumphant grin plastered across his face. In his right hand, he held the thick parchment documents. Behind him, two large, heavily armed enforcers stepped into the shadows.

Before I could even scramble to my feet, one of the enforcers lunged forward, grabbing me roughly by my hair and ripping me away from my father. I gasped in sharp pain as I was dragged down to my knees. A split second later, the sharp, cold edge of a steel knife was pressed firmly against the sensitive pulse point of my throat.

"Let her go!" my father roared, his weak voice filled with absolute fury as he tried to struggle against the wall, but his body was too weak to move.

Richard ignored him completely, stepping closer until his polished boots were inches away from my knees. He looked down at us with a sarcastic, mocking smirk, tapping the documents against his thigh.

"Well, Marcus, let's see how strong your resolve is now," Richard sneered, his voice dripping with pure malice. "What's it going to be? You sign the document... or the girl dies right in front of your eyes?"