The Last Fae Princess

4_Admit It

Nia POV

The dungeon is silent except for the distant drip of water echoing through the stone corridors. I sit motionless on the cold floor, my legs crossed beneath me, and my hands resting lightly on my knees. I keep my eyes closed, and my breathing slow and steady.

The shock, fear and anxiety slowly subside as I concentrate on my breathing. I cannot recall who taught me to do this, or how I know to do it, but I have been doing it to calm myself ever since I can remember.

I know I am in deep s**t – it does not matter which way I debate it … I killed a man. Accidental or not. Dead is dead. It does not matter that he deserved it. It only matters that it was the Beta’s son, and I am an orphan, a nobody, and it is my word against a dead man’s silence. Even if Stacy – I learned her name on our way over here – covers for me, it will not change much. Beta Lenny would demand blood to avenge his son.

The full extent of my predicament hits me like a boulder, and my heart rate quickens as anxiety creeps up in my chest. I inhale deeply and force myself to clear my mind and concentrate on my surroundings.

With my eyes closed, I keep breathing and listen to the rats scurrying behind the walls. I listen to the heartbeats of the guards pacing outside, and Stacy's heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. Fast, uneven, and terrified.

I am about to say something to her when heavy footsteps approach. Stacy immediately jumps to her feet, and I exhale deeply as I open my eyes. The footsteps grow louder, and a figure emerges from the darkness.

For a split second, I thought it was Declan, but then I recognised Dean. He is not as muscular as Declan, and frankly, I think he has a weak chin. Also, I do not like him. I have seen him once or twice, and every time he acted like a spoiled and entitled jerk.

“Dean!” Stacy sighs in relief when she sees him and rushes to the bars, her eyes gleaming with hope.

“Thank Goddess you’re here,” Stacy whimpers, her fingers cramping around the bars. “You must get us out of here. We’re in …"

“Shut up!” Dean snaps, his voice trembling with fury, and Stacy’s face distorts into confusion and hurt as she flinches away from the bars. “My best friend is dead, and you expect me to help you?”

Dean looks from Stacy to me and his eyes are pure, burning rage. Well, tough, I think, lifting my chin and meeting his gaze right on. It is not my fault his best friend is a r****t.

"Dean," Stacy says softly, and he turns back to her. “You must believe me, it was an accident. I … we …”

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” Dean shouts, slamming against the bars and the metal rings through the dungeon.

“Don’t pretend to be the victim,” Dean continues. “You spread your legs willingly for me not long ago, remember? So, don’t take me for a fool. You were caught with Leonard, and now you’re crying wolf to clear your name. You’re a slut, and …”

“And you don’t know s**t!” I scream, cutting him off. If I must listen one second longer to this entitled fart, I will be guilty of a second murder. I do not know if Dean is telling the truth about having s*x with Stacy, but even if he is, that still does not give his best friend the right to take a ride without permission.

“And who the f**k are you?” Dean growls, turning towards me, his eyes ready to burn through the steel bars. “And what makes you think you can talk to me like that?”

I exhale slowly and rise to my feet. Our gazes lock, but I am not scared – I am livid.

“Just because she slept with you,” I say, stepping forward until I am in front of my cell. “Doesn’t mean she’s willing to sleep with the entire pack. Even sluts have dignity, you know.”

I am unsure if it is my lack of fear or my choice of words, but Dean stands stoically and glares at me as if he wants to set me on fire.

“Are you jealous?” Dean asks, stepping closer to me, and a light ignites in his eyes. “That must be it. You wanted Leonard, and you were jealous that he picked Stacy. Is that why you killed him?”

His theory is so absurd, it is laughable, but I remain calm and composed. There is no way in hell I am giving this asshole the satisfaction of getting under my skin.

“Admit it!” Dean shouts, grabbing the bars of my cell, his knuckles turning white. “You killed him! Admit it!”

“You want a confession?” I sneer, taking a step closer, my eyes not wavering from his.

“Here’s one,” I say, leaning closer. “Your best friend is a rapist.”

“You b***h!” Dean screams, reaching through the bars to grab me, but I step out of his reach just in time.

“You’re dead!” He yells. “You hear me? Dead.”

“If you say so,” I shrug, looking mockingly at him. “But until I have a fair trial, and Alpha Daniel finds me guilty, I’m very much alive.”

“You’re not going to live long enough to have a trial,” Dean hisses. “I’ll see to it personally.”

I meet his gaze without flinching, but my heart does skip a beat, because I instinctively know this is not an idle threat. Dean really, really wants to kill me.

“You’re going to undermine your father’s authority?” I ask, raising my eyebrows and ignoring the fear brewing inside of me. “Damn, he’ll be so proud of you.”

“Shup up!” Dean explodes, grabbing and shaking the bars as if he can break them open. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

“Go home, little boy,” I taunt him. “Let the grownups handle this.”

“I swear,” he hisses, his eyes wild with anger. “I will …”

“Dean!” A warrior shouts, cutting him off.

“What?!” Dean snaps, turning around.

“Dean, Alpha Daniel’s calling for you,” the warrior shouts as his rapid footsteps thunder toward us. A warrior bursts around the corner, sweat covering his face, and his breathing ragged.

I do not know these people from Adam, but even I can tell there is something seriously wrong.

“What? Why?” Dean snaps, letting go of my cell’s bars and raking his fingers through his hair.

“It’s Declan,” the warrior swallows, looking as though he wished he did not have to speak the next words. “Something terrible has happened. You need to come quickly."

Without a word, Dean rushes past the warrior towards the exit, and I exhale deeply. I cross my arms over my chest as if I want to hug myself and close my eyes.

Declan. For reasons unknown to me, I am worried. I hope he is okay. Maybe I care because he was kind to me earlier; I do not know.

“That was stupid,” Stacy says quietly, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Brave, but stupid.”

“Excuse me?” I frown.

“You shouldn’t provoke Dean,” she answers. “He’s not someone you can toy with and walk away unscathed.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” I say, ignoring the twitch of fear in my gut. “He’s not the alpha.”

“But he’s in line,” Stacy replies. “And something happened to Declan. So … just be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” I mutter, turn around, and sit on the uncomfortable cot.

I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees.

As a cub, you were taught three things. Respect the ranks – especially the alpha. Leave the fae in peace – they are nature’s creatures and do no harm. And kill vampires – they are out to get everyone. Not once were we taught that the enemy could be within our pack and ranks.

I am not naïve – I know evil lurks everywhere, but it is a hard lesson when you are confronted with it right at home. What a shitty, shitty day.