The agreement

Chapter Four

A small clay bowl of water was pushed through the bottom slot of the heavy iron door. The sharp scraping noise sounded incredibly loud in the quiet, dark cell. For a long moment, I just stared at it, my body pressed flat against the cold stone floor.

My chest throbbed with pain every time I took a breath. But soon, the burning thirst in my throat became too much to handle. I crawled over on my knees, dragging the heavy chains behind me. They made a loud, scratching sound against the dirty floor.

The girl on the other side of the door couldn't have been older than sixteen. She wore traditional Nightbane blue beads in her hair, and they clicked softly because she was shaking so hard. Her wide eyes were filled with pure terror. She stared at me like she was looking at a ghost.

"Drink, please," she whispered quickly, looking nervously over her shoulder down the dark hallway. "The Alpha will know if you don't. Please, you have to."

"Is it poisoned?" My voice sounded rough and cracked, like gravel grinding together. It didn't even sound like me anymore.

"No, Luna. The Alpha said—"

"I am not your Luna," I snapped, hating the title.

The girl flinched as if I had hit her. With shaking hands, she pushed the bowl a little closer to me, spilling a few drops of water. Then, she turned and bolted down the hall. The sound of her footsteps quickly faded, leaving me completely alone again.

I stared at the water. It tasted strange, like old metal, but I forced myself to swallow every single drop. I needed my strength. If I wanted to survive and find out what happened to my family, I couldn't afford to starve.

I was still wiping my mouth with the back of my hand when the heavy lock turned again. The loud click echoed through my head.

Kieran walked into the cell. The terrifying Alpha of the Nightbane pack looked surprisingly ordinary right now. He had changed out of his bloody armor into a plain dark shirt, though he still smelled like a battlefield. He carried a heavy bundle of clothes in his arms, a torch light and left the door wide open behind him—a reminder that I had absolutely nowhere to run.

"You're awake," he said. His voice was completely flat and cold.

His sharp eyes looked down at my broken body. He scanned me from head to toe, finally stopping at my bloody wrists. The heavy iron cuffs had cut deep into my skin while I was moving around during the night.

"Disappointed I'm not dead yet?" I spat, glaring at him through my messy, dirty hair.

"Yeah." He threw the clothes directly at my feet. "Change. You smell like a slaughterhouse, and the council needs to see the Luna tomorrow."

"I told your servant, and I will tell you. I am not your—"

"You are on paper," Kieran cut me off, his voice sharp and cold. "You are in front of the pack, and you will be in front of the council  the alphas of five territories tomorrow. If they see you broken you will have yourself to be blamed."

"What council?" I demanded, moving forward so fast that the chains rattled loudly against the wall. The iron bit into my raw wrists again. "What does this war have to do with me? Tell me the truth—was that Caleb howling last night?"

He didn't answer. He just stared down at me with his unblinking gold eyes. They looked bright and terrifying in the dim light.

"Was that Caleb?" I screamed, my voice cracking from the effort.

"Do not question me," Kieran warned, his tone dropping into a dangerous, icy whisper. "If you want to know what happened to your family, go ask your father in his grave. Now change your clothes, or I will have Rourke do it for you. He is not gentle."

The threat hung heavily in the air. Kieran stepped closer, his massive body blocking out the light from the hall. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small silver key, and unlocked the heavy iron cuffs from the wall.

My hands dropped heavily into my lap. He turned his back to give me a little bit of privacy, but his stiff posture told me he was listening to every single sound.

My hands shook wildly as I pulled the torn, blood-stained dress over my head. The silk was stiff with dried blood—my family's blood—and letting it drop to the dirty floor felt terrible. I quickly pulled on the new dress before I could lose my nerve.

It was a deep blue velvet dress, heavy and very warm. It had beautiful white patterns on the stiff collar and thick, long sleeves.

How smart, I thought bitterly, looking down at the dress. He chose long sleeves on purpose to hide the bruises on my wrists. He wanted the world to see a perfect, obedient Luna, not a tortured prisoner.

When I stepped forward, Kieran’s eyes immediately locked onto my shaking hands. He reached out with terrifying speed, his warm, rough fingers wrapping around my wrists to turn them over.

 He looked at the raw, torn skin where the iron had cut me. When his thumb accidentally touched a fresh wound, I hissed in pain.

Kieran’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. "Rourke will be punished for this."

"Why do you care?" I mocked, trying to pull my hands away from his strong grip. "You're the one who locked me in here."

Kieran tightened his grip, intentionally pressing into my bruises until a dull, sickening pain shot up my arms.

 "Do not think I feel sorry for you, Princess. I didn't save your life out of mercy. I brought you back to Nightbane because I need your royal bloodline. You must look good until the exact day you become useful to me."

He dropped my wrists suddenly, as if touching me burned him, and stepped back out into the hallway.

"Wash your face," he ordered, turning his back to me. "The council arrives tomorrow at dawn. You will stand perfectly still beside me, and you will say absolutely nothing. If you speak, if you beg, or if you show any weakness—"

"What?" I challenged, crossing my arms tightly over my chest to stop them from shaking. "You'll kill me like you killed everyone else? Go ahead. I'm already dead inside anyway."

"I won't kill you," Kieran whispered, stopping in his tracks. He turned his head just enough for me to see a dark, scary smile on his lips. "I will kill Caleb."

The words made my heart completely stop. My anger disappeared instantly, replaced by pure panic.

"He is in the south dungeon," Kieran continued, enjoying the sudden terror in my eyes. "Alive. For now."

The floor beneath my feet felt like it was spinning. "Let me see him," "Please."

"No."

"Just let me hear him. Let me know he's okay. Please, Kieran."

Kieran was quiet for a long time. The only sound was the crackle of the torches in the hall. He slowly pulled a small pocket knife from his leather belt, running his thumb along the flat of the blade.

"Perhaps after the council," he finally murmured, putting the blade away with a soft click. "But only if you play your part perfectly. If you do not look weak in front of the council, I will grant you a five-minute conversation through the door. No physical contact."

"I will do it," I said instantly, swallowing every ounce of pride I had left. "I will play your puppet Luna. I will stand there, and I won't utter a single word."

He nodded once, satisfied that he had broken my spirit, and turned to step out into the hallway.

A second later, a horrific scream echoed from the corridor.

It was Rourke. A wet, heavy thud followed—the sickening sound of bone shattering under a massive, crushing force. I flinched, gripping the cold iron of my cell door as Kieran's roaring voice boomed through the stone hallway. 

His voice was filled with a terrifying, pure anger.

"I said chain her, not mutilate her! Get her medicine and fix what you have done!"