CHAPTER 95
1367 Words
The cell was colder than usual.
Elise had lost track of time again — maybe it was morning, maybe night. The torches outside the dungeon had burned low, leaving faint orange light crawling across the walls. Every sound echoed. Every breath felt heavier.
She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, her hair sticking to her face. She hadn’t eaten properly in days, and her body ached in places she didn’t even know could hurt. But it wasn’t hunger that scared her. It was the quiet. The kind that came before something bad.
The guards usually changed shifts around dawn, but today they hadn’t come at all. That was when she knew something was wrong.
The door at the far end of the corridor opened. A young man stepped through, carrying a bucket and a tray of what barely passed for food. His clothes were plain, patched in several places. He couldn’t have been more than twenty.
He paused when he reached her cell. “You’re awake,” he said softly.
Elise didn’t answer.
He set the tray down inside the cell and hesitated. “I, uh… I shouldn’t be saying this, but… they’re talking upstairs.”
Her head lifted slowly. “Talking?”
He glanced over his shoulder, checking if anyone was watching. “About you. The Council met again last night.”
Her chest tightened. “And?”
He hesitated, then swallowed hard. “They say the Alpha signed something.”
Her stomach dropped. “Signed what?”
He looked away. “An order.”
For a second, her mind went blank. The room seemed to tilt. She gripped the chains around her wrists just to keep herself steady. “What kind of order?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then he whispered, “They’re saying it’s the final one. For the Code.”
She stared at him, disbelief turning into something darker. “The Code…” she murmured. “Execution.”
The boy looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I thought you should know. The others said not to tell you, but—”
Her voice cracked. “Why are you telling me?”
He hesitated. “Because my mother said once… no one deserves to die without warning.”
She blinked at him, the kindness cutting deeper than cruelty ever had. Her throat ached. “What’s your name?”
“Jin,” he said.
“Thank you, Jin.”
He gave a small nod, then glanced at the corridor again. “I’ll come back later. Just… don’t lose hope, okay? Not yet.”
She almost laughed at that, but no sound came. Instead, she watched him leave until the door closed behind him.
Then the silence returned. Only this time, it wasn’t empty. It felt like waiting.
Hours later, footsteps echoed again — lighter ones this time. Elise tensed, but when the shadow appeared at the door, she froze for a different reason.
“Thea?” she whispered.
Thea slipped into view, her hood pulled low. She carried a small cloth bundle in her hands. “Keep your voice down,” she whispered.
Elise rose shakily to her feet. “What are you doing here? They’ll punish you again if they find you—”
“I don’t care,” Thea said, cutting her off. “I had to see you.”
She knelt beside the bars and pushed the bundle through the gap. Inside it was a small piece of bread and something else — a folded scrap of parchment tied with a string.
Elise stared at it like it was something fragile. “What is this?”
“Hope,” Thea said. “And food, before they stop feeding you completely.”
Elise gave a faint, bitter laugh. “Hope doesn’t change death sentences.”
“It can change how you face them,” Thea said firmly.
Elise looked at her friend. “You heard, didn’t you?”
Thea hesitated. Then she nodded. “They’ve been preparing the courtyard since morning. It’s supposed to happen at dawn.”
Elise’s breath caught. “So it’s true.”
Thea’s eyes filled with tears, but her voice stayed steady. “Listen to me. I’m trying to find a way to stop it. Lucien’s still on your side. He’s trying to delay things.”
Elise shook her head weakly. “No one can stop Kai once he decides something.”
Thea gripped the bars, leaning closer. “Then make sure you’re still alive when he realizes he’s wrong.”
Elise’s eyes burned. “You think he’ll care?”
“I think he already does,” Thea said. “He’s just too angry to see it.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was water dripping somewhere down the hall.
Finally, Thea whispered, “If you give up now, they win. Not just the Council. Becky. Luka. All of them who twisted this against you.”
At the mention of those names, something flickered inside Elise — anger, small but sharp.
She nodded slowly. “I won’t give them that satisfaction.”
Thea smiled through her tears. “That’s my girl.”
Elise looked down at the parchment and untied it. Inside, written in shaky ink, were only a few words:
“Hold on. The truth will come.”
She stared at it for a long time, her fingers trembling.
When she looked up again, Thea was already backing away. “I have to go before the guards change,” she whispered. “I’ll come back if I can.”
“Thea—”
Thea paused at the door. “Don’t let them break you.”
Then she was gone.
Elise sat there for a while, the bread untouched, the note in her hand. Her mind ran through everything — the council, the lies, Kai’s silence.
She wanted to believe Thea. She wanted to believe he wasn’t the one who signed it. But deep down, she knew better.
Her hands clenched into fists. “If he wants me gone,” she whispered, “he’ll have to look me in the eyes when he does it.”
For the first time in days, she stood tall. Her body trembled from weakness, but her eyes burned with something stronger than fear.
She tore off a piece of bread and forced herself to eat. It tasted like dust, but it reminded her she was still alive.
By evening, Jin returned. He looked nervous. “They’re setting up the courtyard,” he whispered. “The platform’s already up. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “Thank you for telling me.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “You’re not scared?”
Elise smiled faintly. “I am. But I’m not done yet.”
Jin swallowed. “If I find a chance to help… I will.”
“Don’t risk yourself,” she said. “Just… survive.”
He nodded once and left quickly.
Night fell hard.
Elise sat against the wall, staring at the faint light coming through the ceiling slit. Every now and then, she thought she could feel something — a pulse, faint and painful, deep in her chest.
The bond.
He was awake somewhere. Thinking. Maybe angry. Maybe regretful. She couldn’t tell anymore.
She closed her eyes and whispered into the dark. “You can hate me, Kai. But I’ll live long enough to make you see the truth.”
For a second, it felt like something answered — a sharp ache, then silence.
The door at the end of the corridor creaked open again.
Voices. Footsteps.
Elise straightened.
Two guards entered, their faces expressionless. “Get up,” one of them said.
Her pulse quickened. “Why?”
“The Alpha’s requested you be moved.”
“Moved where?”
They didn’t answer.
One stepped forward, grabbing the chain on her wrists.
“Elise Thorne,” the guard said, his tone flat. “You’re being transferred for final judgment.”
Her breath caught. The words rang in her ears, heavier than any chain.
She stared at him, heart pounding. “Final judgment?”
The guard didn’t meet her eyes. “At dawn.”
- Writer
