|| Third party POV ||
Two days.
That's how long Lilac had been counting the cracks in the prison walls, her fingers tracing the hidden vial in her boot as Aurora's distant cries tore at her heart. The witches had kept her weak— silver cuffs around her wrists, wolfsbane smoke in the air— but they couldn't stop her from planning.
'Just one chance... that's all we get... that's all we need,' she whispered to her wolf.
The door creaked open, and Coco slipped inside, a tray of food in hand.
"Still alive, I see."
Coco stood silhouetted in the doorway, her raven black hair hanging in greasy strands around her hollow cheeks. The silver dagger at her belt caught the dim torchlight as she kicked a wooden bowl of gruel across the floor. It sloshed against Lilac's bare feet, cold and congealed.
"You should eat," Coco murmured, her voice oddly gentle. "Tomorrow will be... difficult."
Lilac didn't move. "What's in it?"
A flicker of so
