Chapter 5

Clara

The guards dragged me out of the palace proper and into the dungeons.

They shoved me into a cell and slammed the door. I heard the lock click into place.

I curled up into a ball in the corner of the tiny cell. It was freezing. There wasn’t a blanket or even a straw pallet to keep me off of the cold, stone floor. The cell was basically a tiny stone box with a heavy wooden door, and nothing else.

My simple dress did very little to protect me from the cold. I tucked my skirt over my legs and wrapped my arms tightly around my chest.

The cold made my bruises ache even more than they had while I worked.

I trembled, and it wasn’t only from the cold. The prince’s order rang in my ears over and over again. He’d commanded them to give me thirty lashes, and didn’t even bother to let me defend myself.

I was his fated mate, but he clearly didn’t know it. Why didn’t his wolf call for me, the way mine yearned for him?

Stealing from the royals was a capital offense. While the Prince hadn’t ordered my execution directly, he had sentenced me to death.

Thirty lashes could easily kill me, especially with how weakened I was from days of beatings by the other maids. My wolf would not be able to keep me alive.

Then, suddenly, I smelled something familiar and pleasant. My wolf stirred within me. The Prince, my fated mate, was in the dungeon.

I heard his footsteps approach my cell. He opened the door and looked down at me.

I smiled up at him. He was as handsome as ever, and his presence soothed my wolf. I thought that he’d realized we were mates, and come to rescue me.

Or maybe he had realized that I didn’t get a chance to properly defend myself, and he came to give me a second chance to communicate. If he only brought a pen and paper, I could explain. Maybe he had simply realized that none of his possessions were missing, because I hadn’t stolen anything.

“So. You’re the maid, Clara,” he said.

To my disappointment, his voice was as cold as it had been before, when he sentenced me to the dungeon. There was no trace of the warmth I expected from a man facing his fated mate for the first time.

I nodded anyway. I had learned his name, too. He was Prince Marcus, the Second Lycan Prince. I had described him to Nora after I first saw him. She worked in the main palace sometimes so she knew who I was talking about. I didn't tell her why I wanted to know. I claimed I was only curious.

He sighed. “So you’re my fated mate. Pathetic.”

I blinked at him, stunned and not sure I’d heard correctly. He knew?

The disdain in his voice barely pierced the shock I felt.

“Yes, I know you’re my mate,” he said. “I’ve known for a little while, actually.”

Was he waiting for me to notice? But why? I would have approached him immediately if I could have.

He shook his head. “I can’t believe a mute like you is my fated mate. It’s pathetic. An embarrassment.”

I flinched back at the coldness in his voice.

“You’re a disgrace to me. I’m a noble, a royal prince, and I shouldn’t have to put up with a defective mate.”

I stared at him as he sneered down at me. He hadn’t been oblivious. He had seen everything, and still walked away as he watched the other maids torment me.

He had to know I was innocent, and yet he was still going to allow me to be whipped to death.

Deep inside, I felt my wolf howl in pain. His cruelty tormented her.

The wolf was a simple creature, and couldn’t understand things like social standing. She only knew that her mate didn’t want her.

My chin exploded in pain. The prince gripped me tightly and forced me to look at him.

“I won’t reject you,” he said. “I’d have to do that publicly, and I don’t want the humiliation of people knowing you are my fated mate.”

I stared at him. I hadn’t even thought about rejection. Did he want me to do it, instead?

Could I reject him? Would a written or signed rejection sever our bond? I had no idea.

“No,” the prince continued. “I have a better way to deal with this shame. I’ll have you lashed for theft, and you’ll just die. No one will ever know you were my mate.” He laughed, voice low and cruel.

“Lucky for me, you can’t tell anyone,” Prince Marcus said.

I realized then that he had planned everything. He probably told that maid to accuse me. Even if he didn’t, he certainly made good use of the situation.

I was filled with fury. It was one thing not to want me. I understood. Not everyone was happy when they found their fated mate.

But to have me killed?

I jerked my head out of his grip, turned my face, and sank my teeth into the meat of his hand.

I tasted blood and smiled.

Prince Marcus yelped and threw me to the ground.

I braced myself for another beating. The prince was stronger than the other maids. And he wanted me dead, so it was going to hurt a lot more.

I didn't regret biting him. At least I'd left my mark.

Before he started in on me, a guard approached. He bowed to the prince and announced that it was time for my execution. Not my punishment, or the sentence, or the lashing. The execution.

They all knew I was going to die, and no one cared.

Prince Marcus grabbed me by the back of the neck and dragged me out of the dungeon into a courtyard. He threw me down onto a wooden platform where criminals were punished. The guards tied my wrists to the pillory. They didn’t bother to offer me a gag.

I heard water splash and twisted around. One of the guards pulled a long, tightly braided whip out of a bucket of salt water. I flinched back. Thirty strikes from a normal whip would probably kill me. I wouldn’t last half that long with a salted whip.

I looked around as much as I could. I saw werewolves gathered to see the spectacle. Their eyes glinted with bloodlust. I knew that if I somehow did free myself from the pillory, I could never escape. The crowd would gladly tear me limb from limb if I tried.

I took a deep breath. I forced the tears back and smothered my fear.

I would not give them even that much satisfaction. At least I couldn’t entertain them with my screams.

“Begin,” Prince Marcus ordered. He didn’t even bother reading out a list of charges. No one cared why I was going to die.

I closed my eyes and braced myself for the first lash.

“Don’t touch her!” a deep voice ordered.

I knew that captivating voice from somewhere, but where?

I opened my eyes at the sound of that familiar voice. I twisted against the pillory so that I could see who spoke.

To my shock, I recognized the stranger I had found in the stables.