051
1011 Words
~ Duncan
I didn’t go down with Thorne.
Not at first.
I stayed back in the corridor above the cells, hands resting on the cold stone railing, listening to the faint echo of his footsteps as he descended. The pack prison sat deep beneath the compound, carved into bedrock and warded with old magic wards I had reinforced myself years ago. No one screamed down there anymore. No one needed to.
Anger would’ve rushed me there once.
Years ago, I would’ve stormed in.
Now, I waited.
Because some confrontations weren’t about force.
They were about control.
I could hear Anastasia’s voice drifting faintly upward, smooth, amused, deliberately careless.
She always sounded like that when she thought she still had the upper hand.
Thorne stopped in front of her cell.
I pictured it without seeing it: her sitting too comfortably on the narrow bench, posture relaxed, eyes sharp. Anastasia never looked imprisoned. She wore cages like jewelry.
“Well,” she said, her tone lazy. “If it isn’t the loyal hound.”
Thorne didn’t respond. He never took her bait.
“You sent the video,” he said instead.
A pause. Then a soft laugh.
“I did.”
“Why?”
Silence stretched. I imagined her tilting her head, considering which lie to offer first.
“I wanted her to know,” Anastasia finally said.
“That’s all. Truth has a way of finding its audience.”
Thorne’s voice hardened. “You hurt her.”
“She’s tougher than she looks,” Anastasia replied. “You should thank me. I saved her from believing in a fantasy.”
That was when I started moving.
Not fast.
Not loud.
Each step down the stone stairs was deliberate, controlled. My heartbeat was steady,too steady. My wolf stirred under my skin, not raging, not snarling. Just watching.
Waiting.
I reached the last step just as Anastasia spoke again, her voice sharpening with irritation.
“You know what your Alpha really is, don’t you, Thorne? A liar dressed up as a savior…”
She stopped mid-sentence.
I saw it then, the shift.
The way her body went still before she even turned. The way the air in the corridor tightened, instinct answering instinct.
Slowly, Anastasia looked past Thorne.
Her eyes met mine.
For a moment,just one,she forgot to hide it.
Surprise.
Then calculation.
Then that familiar, dangerous smile.
“Duncan,” she said softly, like my name still belonged to her. “You finally decided to show.”
I didn’t answer.
I stepped fully into the torchlight, my presence filling the space without effort. I didn’t glare. Didn’t scowl. Calm settled over me like armor.
That unsettled her more than anger ever could.
I lifted one hand slightly, not even looking at Thorne.
A signal.
He stiffened, glanced between us, then nodded once. Loyal as ever. He turned and walked away without a word, his boots echoing back up the stairs until we were alone.
Just us.
Anastasia straightened, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her clothes. “Sending your Beta away?” she teased. “Afraid he’ll hear what you already know?”
I stopped a few feet from the bars.
Close enough.
“I don’t need witnesses,” I said evenly.
Her smile widened, but her eyes searched my face, hunting for cracks. “That calm you’re wearing,” she said. “It won’t last. It never does when it comes to her.”
Something inside me tightened, but I didn’t let it show.
“You crossed a line,” I said.
She laughed quietly. “I exposed one.”
The torches flickered. The wards hummed low beneath our feet.
Anastasia leaned closer to the bars. “Tell me,” she murmured. “Did she cry when she saw it?”
Silence answered her.
Duncan
I didn’t move closer. I didn't need to. My presence filled the corridor like weight, like iron. My wolf prowled beneath the surface, restless, but not in rage—control was sharper than fury right now.
“Why?” I asked, voice low, deliberate. “Why send that video?”
Anastasia leaned against the bars, arms crossed, smirk twisting bitterly across her face. “Why not?” she said. “because I have nothing else to lose. Duncan.”
“ Do you realize she's my mate.”
A laugh, bitter, sharp, but it faltered halfway, betraying her uncertainty. “ I'm your mate. Not her. You just have to pick the omega over me. Always. Why?”
The question wasn’t just about anger. It carried a strange, twisting ache, jealousy wrapped in insult. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t justify my choices. My gaze stayed fixed on her, unwavering.
“Because she matters,” I said finally. “She matters more than your games. More than your threats. And I will always put her above anyone who tries to harm her. even you.”
Her eyes narrowed. Then she spoke, her voice low and dangerous. “Do you even think about how your daughter will feel when she finds out you’ve been… sleeping with her best friend?”
The words hit me with a cold jolt. Sharp.
Calculated. A manipulation, yes,but layered with truth, or at least her version of it. My jaw tightened, my wolf snarling under the skin, but I remained still. Controlled. Calm.
“She doesn’t know yet,” I said quietly, voice steady. “And she won’t until I say. I decide when she learns the truth, not you.”
Anastasia’s laugh was hollow this time, a bitter echo bouncing off the stone walls. “You’re calm… too calm. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
“And…” she continued.” If I ever see iris again. If I even get the chance I will kill her.”
The world narrowed.
Not red.
Not rage.
Stillness.
My wolf rose, ancient and absolute.
“ You won't,” I said.
She laughed again, wild now. “ You can't kill me, you won't…. You still…”
I moved.
One step.
One hand.
My fingers closed around her throat
- Writer
