CHAPTER 91
1555 Words
The iron door to the council chamber had barely closed before Elise felt rough hands clamp onto her arms. The guards didn’t speak as they yanked her forward, their grip bruising her flesh. Her screams still echoed in her own ears, but here, outside the chamber, they fell into silence. No one rushed to her defense. No one whispered her name with kindness.
The stone corridor was dim, torches casting long shadows that swayed with every step. The packhouse dungeon lay beneath the oldest wing of the estate, a place whispered about by pups who dared each other to sneak near. Elise had never seen it before, never thought she would.
Her bare feet scraped against the cold floor. She tried to dig her heels in, but the guards only tightened their grip, dragging her like a sack of grain. Her nails clawed at the stone, leaving streaks of skin.
“Please,” she rasped, her voice raw from crying. “Please, I didn’t do anything—”
“Quiet,” one of the guards snapped, his voice flat, detached. “Orders are orders.”
Her head whipped from side to side as they passed servants lingering in the halls. Some stared openly, curiosity gleaming in their eyes. Others turned away, shame in their posture but no courage to intervene. Elise caught fragments of whispers:
“She betrayed him.”
“Poor Alpha.”
“Do you think it’s true?”
“She looked guilty enough.”
Each word pierced her like another dagger.
They descended a spiral staircase that smelled of rust and damp earth. The air grew colder with every step. When they reached the bottom, the guards shoved open a heavy iron gate. The screech of metal against stone echoed like a scream.
The dungeon was a long, narrow corridor lined with barred cells. The stench of mildew and old blood clung to the air. Torches flickered weakly, barely illuminating the shadows. Elise’s stomach churned as her eyes darted over straw-strewn floors and chains bolted into walls.
They shoved her into an empty cell at the far end. She stumbled and fell, her knees slamming into the stone. Pain shot up her legs, but before she could rise, the gate clanged shut behind her.
The taller guard sneered. “You’ll stay here until the council decides what to do with you.”
“I didn’t—” Her voice cracked. “Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t betray him.”
The guard’s expression didn’t flicker. “It’s not my place to believe anything.”
The other one chuckled, his tone cruel. “Don’t bother begging. The Alpha rejected you. That’s all anyone will remember.”
Their footsteps retreated, leaving her alone.
Elise pressed herself against the bars, her hands trembling. The rejection bond still seared in her chest, an ache that throbbed with every heartbeat. She wanted to scream, to claw her way out, to force the world to see the truth. Instead, she crumpled onto the cold floor, her tears soaking into the straw.
Above the dungeon, the packhouse buzzed like a disturbed hive. Warriors gathered in corners, their armor still on from training, debating in hushed tones.
“I saw the video with my own eyes,” one muttered. “She was with him, no denying it.”
“But what if it was faked?” another argued quietly. “You know Luka’s tricks. And Becky—she’s been awfully close to the council lately.”
The first shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. The Alpha rejected her. That bond’s broken. Even if it was fake, she’s nothing now.”
Servants whispered in the kitchens, voices low as they chopped vegetables and scrubbed dishes.
“She looked so broken,” a maid said, wringing her hands. “I’ve never seen anyone cry like that.”
“She should’ve thought about that before betraying him,” another replied sharply.
“You believe that?”
The first hesitated, then whispered, “I don’t know.”
The gossip spread to the training yards, to the healer’s wing, to every corner of the packhouse. Some believed Elise guilty without question. Others doubted quietly, afraid to speak too loudly. But the louder voices drowned the softer ones, and the tide of opinion turned against her.
Thea stormed toward the dungeon later that night, her skirts whipping around her legs. Her face was pale but her eyes blazed. She reached the iron gate, only to find two guards stationed firmly in front of it.
“Move,” she ordered, her voice sharp.
One guard shifted uneasily, but the other stood tall. “We can’t, Lady Thea. Elder Kion gave strict orders. No one is allowed to see the prisoner.”
“She’s not a prisoner,” Thea snapped. “She’s family. She’s innocent.”
The guard’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry. Our orders—”
“Orders?” Thea’s voice rose. “Since when do Elder Kion’s orders outrank mine? Do you forget who I am? I raised Kai when his mother died. I stood by this pack when others abandoned it. You dare tell me I can’t see the girl he loves?”
The guards exchanged a nervous glance.
“Lady Thea,” one said cautiously, “please don’t make this harder. Elder Kion said if anyone tries to see her, we are to report it immediately.”
Thea stepped closer, her fury palpable. “Report it, then. Tell him I don’t fear his threats. If he thinks I’ll abandon Elise, he underestimates me.”
But when she tried to push past, the guards crossed their spears, blocking her path. The clang of metal rang in the hall.
Her shoulders trembled with frustration. For a moment, it seemed she might force her way through anyway. But then she drew a sharp breath, straightened, and stepped back. Her eyes burned into theirs.
“You tell Elder Kion this,” she said coldly. “If Elise falls, this pack will fall with her. And I will not forgive any of you who stood by and watched.”
She spun on her heel and stormed away, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Hours later, when the dungeon was quiet except for the drip of water and the rustle of rats, the iron door creaked open again.
Footsteps clicked softly against the stone. Elise stirred, her swollen eyes lifting. When the figure came into view, her heart plummeted.
Becky.
She wore a cloak, her hair neatly pinned, her face arranged in a mask of sympathy. She carried a small lantern that cast her features in warm light, but her eyes gleamed with something colder.
“Elise,” Becky whispered, her voice dripping pity. “Oh, you poor thing.”
Elise staggered to the bars, her throat raw. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you,” Becky said softly, setting the lantern down. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, down here all alone. It breaks my heart.”
Elise’s hands tightened on the bars. “Don’t pretend. This is your doing.”
Becky tilted her head, her expression wounded. “Mine? Oh, Elise… I tried to protect you. I told Kai not to be so harsh, but he wouldn’t listen. You know how stubborn he is.”
“Liar,” Elise hissed. “You and Luka planned this. You framed me.”
Becky’s smile flickered, just for an instant, before returning. “If you want someone to blame, look in the mirror. You made it too easy. Always so desperate to please, always so naïve. Did you really think you were good enough for him?”
Elise’s chest tightened, rage sparking through her grief. “I loved him. He loved me.”
“Loved,” Becky repeated, savoring the word. “Not anymore. He rejected you in front of everyone. That bond is gone. Do you know what that means? You’re nothing. Not to him. Not to this pack.”
Elise shook her head violently. “He still loves me. I saw it in his eyes. He was hurting when he said it.”
Becky leaned closer, her voice a venomous whisper. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. Love doesn’t save anyone. Power does. And you? You have none.”
Elise’s grip on the bars tightened until her knuckles turned white. “One day, the truth will come out. And when it does, you’ll pay for this.”
Becky’s smile sharpened. “Maybe. But by then, what will be left of you? Days down here in the dark, no one to listen, no one to believe you… You’ll break long before anyone uncovers your truth.”
She straightened, smoothing her cloak. “Rest well, Elise. You’ll need your strength. Dungeons have a way of swallowing hope whole.”
With that, she picked up the lantern and turned away. The light receded, leaving Elise in suffocating darkness once more.
Elise sank to the floor, her chest heaving. The bond still ached, her heart still screamed for Kai, but Becky’s words clung to her like chains.
She pressed her forehead against the cold bars and whispered to herself, as if saying it enough could make it true:
“I’m not broken. I won’t break.”
But the dungeon gave no answer, only silence.
- Writer
