The room was damp, the air thick with dust and decay. Cobwebs clung to the corners, shadowy strands stretching like the hands of ghosts. Elisa sat on the hard, uneven floor, her wrists aching from where the guards had thrown her. The stench of mold filled her nostrils, but she refused to let it bother her. She refused to let them win.
The door creaked open.
A young woman stepped inside, a tray in her hands. Her dark curls framed a delicate face, wide brown eyes flickering with hesitation. Emilia.
Elisa had seen her before—a quiet maid who kept to herself. Now, she stood in front of her, uncertain, shifting the tray in her grip.
“My Lady,” Emilia said softly, her gaze darting to the bruises forming along Elisa’s arms. “Alpha Kieran sent me to tend to you.”
Elisa exhaled, pushing away t
