Chapter 5

Lisa’s POV

The walls of the cell were stone—cold, damp, and old enough to remember war. They didn’t creak like the rotted beams of my father’s dungeons; they were silent, oppressive. Unyielding. I’d been here less than a day, but time stretched thin in a place like this.

No one talked about the amount of boredom that came with staying in a place like this. I felt like I was going insane by the hour.

I sat on the narrow cot, legs folded beneath me, hands clasped tight in my lap. There was straw on the floor, clean enough, and a single tray of food had been slid through the iron bars earlier. I hadn’t touched it. Not because I was above eating their food, but because hunger felt distant—muted. Like everything else.

I wasn’t sure what hurt more: being imprisoned by strangers or the way Jeremy had walked away from me.

Mate. The word throbbed in my chest like a bruise. When he’d pinned me against that tree in the woods, I’d felt the pull too. Not just instinct. Not just fear. Something deeper. I’d seen it in his eyes—the flash of recognition. But he hadn’t let it change anything. He still dragged me here. Still locked the door.

I couldn't blame him. Not really. I was a vampire. Worse, I was Firouzja’s daughter.

But I wasn’t his daughter. Not really. Not the way daughters were supposed to be. I was an inconvenience.

Still, I’d hoped for something different when I crossed the border into wolf territory. Maybe a clean death.

I didn’t get either. I got Jeremy.

And his eyes.

God, those eyes.

The cell door rattled, pulling me from the spiral. Heavy boots on stone. I didn’t need to look to know it was him. His presence hit like a change in weather—charged and sudden.

I looked up.

He stood just beyond the bars, arms folded across his chest. The moonlight filtering through the high window behind him made him look carved from shadow.

“You haven’t touched your food,” he said.

“Not hungry.”

“That’s not how surviving works. You have to eat.”

I shrugged. “Didn’t come here to survive.”

He didn’t respond to that. Just watched me with unreadable eyes. Silence stretched between us, thick with tension neither of us knew how to name. I thought he might leave. But instead, he stepped closer.

“You’re not like the others,” he said after a moment.

I laughed, low and bitter. “Because I’m in a cage instead of a crypt?”

“No. You don’t smell like one. You don’t act like one either.”

“You sure that’s not just wishful thinking?”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t play games, Lisa. I don’t have the patience for that.”

“Then why are you here?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes dropped to the ground, then back to mine. “I don’t know.”

I wanted to scream. To claw at something until it made sense. Instead, I sat still, letting the silence press into me. He looked torn—like he was battling something inside. And I understood that. I’d been battling all my life.

“Do you feel it too?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t pretend not to understand. “Yes.”

The word sat between us like a loaded weapon. I waited, holding my breath, hoping for more but there was nothing.

“I can’t explain it,” he said. “It shouldn’t be possible.”

“I know.”

We sat in the impossibility together.

His fingers flexed at his side like he was fighting the urge to move. Or to stay. I didn’t know which terrified me more.

“You could’ve killed me in the woods,” I said. “Why didn’t you?”

He hesitated. “Because I didn’t want to.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.”

A beat passed.

“Do your people know what I am?” I asked.

“No. They think you’re a witch.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because if they knew the truth, they’d want your head. And I’m not ready to let that happen.”

My throat tightened. I wasn’t used to kindness—especially not from his kind. My clan had taught me wolves were savage, blood-hungry beasts. But here I was. Still breathing. Still speaking.

“Thank you,” I said, and meant it.

He looked startled. Like he hadn’t expected gratitude.

“You’re not safe here,” he said. “Not forever.”

“I’ve never been safe anywhere.”

Something flickered in his expression. Anger. Guilt. Maybe both.

“What did he do to you?” Jeremy asked, voice low.

I swallowed hard. “He kept me in a cell most of my life. Said I was weak. A stain. My mother was human, so I never developed like the others. No bloodlust. No power. Just golden eyes and bad luck.”

Jeremy stepped closer to the bars, his scent brushing the air between us. Not threatening—steady. Grounding. My breath hitched.

“Why run here?” he asked. “Why not disappear into human cities?”

“I didn’t want to disappear,” I said. “I wanted to matter. Even if it meant dying on your territory.”

He didn’t speak. Just stared. And in his silence, I saw the war in him.

Then, a soft knock at the far door. He turned sharply, posture tense. Whoever it was didn’t enter.

“I have to go now,” he said.

Of course he did.

“Don’t lie to your pack forever,” I told him as he turned. “They’ll find out. And when they do, they won’t just hate me.”

He paused. “I know.”

As he left, the chill returned. But the quiet felt different this time. Not empty—just waiting.

I curled back onto the cot, staring up at the ceiling. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure what I wanted.

Freedom? Revenge?

Or a reason to stay?

Someone to stay for?

I closed my eyes and tried not to think of warm gazes and stormy eyes. Tried not to think of Jeremy and the way his voice softened when he said my name.

But it was too late.

I’d felt the pull too.

And I wasn’t ready to let go.