Chapter 7. Into The Dungeons

* Cerberus *

We slip past the outer perimeter unnoticed.

The wolf guards at the northern gate are distracted, yawning and half-shifting from exhaustion, but my wolves are precise, silent shadows in the dark. No one makes a sound. No one breaks formation. Rhea takes the lead, her massive wolf form gliding just ahead of me like smoke given flesh. I follow close behind, my steps light but sure on the stone path.

The scent of moss, rust, and dried blood grows stronger the deeper we go. The dungeons are near. My instincts scream it, my blood thrums with a primal pull, and my heart pounds with anticipation. Wrapped in a thick, rune-woven cloak that suppresses both my scent and aura, I move undetected. Even in my unshifted form, I carry danger in my blood, and that is something I need hidden for now.

Rhea halts, her ears perked forward, a low growl vibrating through her chest. She lifts her head slightly, sniffing the air before turning to me with narrowed eyes.

"Alpha," she hisses through our mental link, "warriors at the entrance of the dubgeons. Two of them. Awake."

I lower a hand to her fur and gently stroke her back, calming the tension rippling beneath her thick coat. "Stay hidden. Let me handle this."

She crouches low, her golden eyes watchful as I step into the dim torchlight alone. Two warriors stand guard before the heavy iron doors, their postures stiff with alertness. One squints at me.

"Hey! Who are you?"

"Evening, gentlemen," I interrupt smoothly, offering a calm smile beneath the shadow of my hood. "Or... morning, I suppose?"

They tense. It's just after four a.m. the edge of night peeling away, but not yet dawn. They don't recognize me, but they know I don't belong. One of them growls, taking a step forward.

"Who are you?!"

His partner drops into a partial shift, claws sliding out, eyes glowing with suspicion. I raise my hand slowly, as if surrendering. But instead of a weapon, I hold a small leather pouch. With a flick of my fingers, silver dust bursts into the air, shimmering like frost.

"Breathe deep," I whisper.

The dust catches the breeze and swirls around them. They cough once. Then again. Their eyes roll back. They collapse to the ground in a heartbeat, limbs twitching before going still. Deep sleep. They won't wake for hours.

"Rhea," I call softly. "We're clear."

Her form reappears, gliding to my side like a shadow brought to life. Together, we slip inside, passing through the creaking doors into the true belly of the fortress, the dungeon.

The air is heavy. Old. It reeks of despair and rot. Every wall here remembers pain. I feel it like a pulse beneath my feet. My eyes, enhanced by years of training and something darker inside me, adjust quickly to the gloom. I don't need torches. I see everything.

We pass the first row of cells. Cold iron bars. Bones on the floor. Moans of broken wolves echo from the shadows. I keep moving.

A whisper catches my ear.

"Alpha... Alpha Cerberus... Please..."

I stop.

A wolf lies crumpled inside the cell, barely more than a skeleton wrapped in bruised flesh. His eyes flicker open, bloodshot and tired, and he stares at me like I'm a ghost. Like I'm hope.

I kneel in front of him, my heart pulling tight.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "But if you can't walk, I can't take you. We're still in enemy territory."

He tries to move, fails. His lip quivers. "Please..."

"I want to help you," I whisper. "But I can't carry you. Not this time."

He begins to cry as I rise. The sound follows me.

Two more rogues call out from the next cell. They're injured, but alive, on their feet, barely. I motion to Rhea.

"Assess them."

She moves quickly, sniffing, nudging, inspecting them with swift expertise. Then she nods.

"They'll survive."

"Good." I look at them. "You follow my pace, or you get left behind. Understood?"

"Yes, Alpha," they breathe.

Rhea tears the cell lock apart with one swipe of her clawed paw. The two rogues limp out, gratitude and pain written in every line of their bodies.

Then I smell her.

Celine.

Her scent is soft, like lavender and snow but it's fading. She was here, recently, maybe an hour ago. I turn toward it like a bloodhound, following the delicate trail deeper into the belly of the dungeon. The air grows colder. More silent. We pass other prisoners, but none of them are her.

Then I see it.

A cell unlike the others.

This one is clean. There's a bed. A wooden table. A single chair. There's even a bucket of fresh water and a folded blanket. This isn't a prison. It's a cage meant for someone important.

And the woman sitting inside is not Celine.

She looks up, startled, but she doesn't move. Her skin is pale beneath the dim light, her hair long and light as moonlight, flowing like silk over her shoulders. Her emerald eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but there is no fear in them, only pain and defiance.

"Who are you?" she asks, her voice steady but tired.

There's power in her tone. Authority. She speaks like someone used to being obeyed.

I cross my arms. "No need for names, Princess. But I need to know, where is Celine? Her scent's all over this place, but she's not here anymore."

At the mention of Celine's name, something shifts in her face. Her jaw tightens. Her gaze darkens like a storm cloud.

"You're here for her?" she spits. "Are you rescuing that bitch?"

Cursing doesn't suit her lovely face. I smirk. But her hatred is unexpected and strangely satisfying.

"Maybe. Not that it's any of your business."

She grips the bars tightly. "If I tell you where she is... will you let me out?"

Her voice turns sly. Calculating. A negotiator.

I look her over again. She's dangerous in a different way than Rhea or me. Dangerous in her beauty, in her words. A political animal. A Luna.

"I don't have time to play games," I say, starting to turn. "If Celine isn't here, then I'm leaving."

"She's in the Alpha's house," she says suddenly. Her voice trembles, laced with something deeper than sorrow. "She's taken my place, as mate. I'm Luna Zeina. Sister to the Alpha King. This place was mine. This pack was mine."

I stop in my tracks.

That explains the elegance. The aura and the sadness.

I glance back at her. "So I wasn't wrong when I called you Princess."

Her hands tremble on the bars. "If you get me out, I'll make sure you're rewarded. My brother loves me he doesn't know everything. I'll make him reward you."

I approach the cell door. It's reinforced, enchanted. Not just any cell, this one was designed to hold someone powerful. It would give me long time before I could open it.

"I can't," I admit quietly. "Not without drawing too much attention. This lock... it won't break without a storm of power."

She steps forward, desperation leaking through her mask of pride. "Please. I can help you. We can help each other."

I stare at her a moment longer, then sigh.

"You're beautiful, Princess. And strong. I can see that you are still bonded with the Alpha of this pack. Use that strength. If you're still here when the full wolf moon rises, maybe I'll come back. Maybe we can strike a deal. But for now..."

I turn away again, heart heavy with the weight of every choice I'm forced to make.

"Good luck, Princess."

Her voice breaks behind me. "Please... don't leave me here..."

I don't look back.

Rhea and the others are waiting. We slip back through the tunnels, silent as the dead. When we reach the exit, I pause, just for a second.

A scream echoes faintly from the cell block we left behind. Then silence.

The broken rogue wolf who couldn't follow us has taken his own life.

I clench my fists, jaw tight. There's no time for grief. No time for regret. But it doesn't stop the guilt from curling in my gut.

I couldn't save him. But will I save her, the Princess? I need time to think of a great deal why I should.