Chapter Ninety Two: Suicide Mission

The Ironfang prison was a place built for despair.

The air was damp and metallic, carrying the scent of rust and blood. The stone walls sweated in the dim torchlight, and every sound—a footstep, a cough, a clink of a chain—echoed far too loudly.

Rayne sat with her back to the wall, legs drawn in, hands chained but free enough to move. Her mind had been running in circles for days, replaying how Cain had betrayed their pack. Every time she thought the rage might settle, it flared hotter.

Across from her, in his own cell, Cain sat on the floor with his head lowered. His black hair fell forward, obscuring most of his face. He hadn’t spoken much since he’d been thrown in here, but his silence didn’t earn him mercy in her eyes.

“You should have told them to kill me outright,” Rayne said finally, her voice flat. “It would have been cleaner.”

Cain didn’t look up. “I didn’t bring you here to die.”

Rayne laughed without humor. “You delivered me into their hands. Do you think they’ll just… keep