Three

Desiree

Three days. I've been here three days, and every second feels like drowning. The window in my new room, because apparently prisoners get upgrades, overlooks the forest. Freedom is right there, so close I can taste it. Pine trees swaying in the wind, the moon hanging fat and silver in the sky, calling to my wolf.

Tonight, I'm answering.

I wait until the fortress quiets, until the guard rotation changes. Then I move. The window opens silently, I've been oiling the hinges with butter from my dinner tray for two nights. My hands shake as I grip the ledge.

Just jump. Shift. Run.

I push off, and for one glorious moment, I'm flying. Wind rushes past my face, my wolf surges forward, ready to burst free and—

Pain.

White-hot, searing pain explodes in my chest. The mate bond yanks tight like a noose, and suddenly I can't breathe. Can't think. My body seizes mid-shift, bones cracking wrong, muscles tearing. I hit the ground hard, neither human nor wolf, trapped somewhere in between.

No, no, no..

I try to crawl. Try to move. But the bond is a chain tighter than any iron, pulling me back, screaming that I'm leaving my mate, abandoning what the Moon destined.

"Traitor," I gasp at my wolf, at the bond, at fate itself. "Let me GO!"

But she's whimpering, confused and hurt. She doesn't understand why I'm fighting what feels so right to her.

My vision blurs. The forest swims in and out of focus. I'm maybe thirty feet from the fortress wall, and I can't move another inch. My body trembles violently, caught between two forms, two desires, two impossible choices. Footsteps. Running. Multiple pairs.

"There! By the tree line!"

No. Not now. Not when I'm this pathetic and broken. But it's not guards who reach me first.

Gillian  drops to his knees beside me, his hands hovering over my twisted form like he's afraid to touch. His face is a war zone, fury and something that looks horribly like worry battling for dominance.

"You fool," he breathes. "You absolute fool."

"Let... me... die," I manage through chattering teeth.

"Never." The word is a vow and a threat.

He reaches for me, and I try to flinch away, but my body won't cooperate. His hands are surprisingly gentle as he lifts me, cradling me against his chest like I'm something precious instead of the enemy who tried to escape.

The bond sighs in contentment. My wolf practically purrs. I want to scream.

"The bond won't let you leave," Gillian  says quietly as he carries me back toward the fortress. "The further you run, the worse it gets. You could have died out there."

"Good," I spit, even though my body is already relaxing in his arms, the pain fading with his proximity. Traitor. Everything about me is a traitor.

"Well, well."

That voice. My blood turns to ice.

Lucius leans against the fortress wall, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk playing on his lips. Even in the moonlight, his gold eyes gleam with amusement.

"An escape attempt. How predictable." He pushes off the wall, falling into step beside Gillian . "Tell me, brother, how does it feel knowing your mate would rather die than stay with you?"

"Lucius." Gillian 's voice is a warning growl.

"A weak Luna breaks the crown," Lucius continues, loud enough that the gathering guards can hear. "The pack already doubts her. This little stunt will only make it worse."

I want to argue, to snap back, but I'm too exhausted. Too broken. The partial shift has left me shaking and nauseated, barely clinging to consciousness. Gillian 's arms tighten around me. "Go patrol the eastern border."

"That's not my assignment."

"It is now."

The brothers lock eyes, and the air crackles with competing dominance. For a moment, I think Lucius will challenge him outright. But then he smiles, slow and dangerous.

"Of course, Alpha." He glances down at me. "Do try to survive the night, little wolf. It would be such a shame if you died before things got interesting."

Then he's gone, melting into shadows.

++++++++

I wake in Gillian 's room. Not my cell. Not the upgraded prisoner quarters. His actual bedroom, massive and dark, smelling like pine and smoke and him. I'm on his bed, covered in furs, and my body feels like one giant bruise.

The door opens, and he enters carrying a tray of food. The smell hits me, roasted meat, fresh bread, honey and my stomach clenches. When was the last time I ate? Really ate?

Two days ago. Maybe three.

"You need to eat." He sets the tray on the bedside table.

"I need you to let me go."

"Eat first. Fight later."

I turn my face away. "I'm not hungry."

"Liar." He picks up the plate, and the smell intensifies. "Your stomach is growling loud enough to wake the dead."

"Then let me starve." The words come out bitter, defeated. "Maybe if I'm weak enough, the bond will break. Maybe the Moon Goddess will realize her mistake and free us both."

Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt? Impossible. Monsters don't feel hurt.

"The bond doesn't work that way." He tears off a piece of bread, offering it to me. "And I won't watch you destroy yourself."

"You don't get a choice."

"Neither do you."

Before I can react, he's sitting on the edge of the bed, his presence overwhelming. He holds the bread to my lips, his expression firm but not cruel.

"Eat, Desiree."

"No."

"I can force you."

"Try it," I challenge, even though we both know I'm too weak to fight him. "Add it to your list of crimes. Murderer. Kidnapper. Now force-feeder."

His jaw tightens. For a long moment, we're locked in a silent battle of wills. Then, surprisingly, he sets the bread down.

"Your father," he says quietly, "what would he say if he saw you like this?"

The words are a knife to the gut. "Don't you DARE—"

"Would he want you to starve yourself? To waste away out of spite?"

Tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. "He'd want me to fight you with everything I have."

"Then fight." He picks up the bread again. "But fight while alive. Fight while strong. Starving yourself isn't rebellion, Desiree. It's surrender."

I hate that he's right. Hate that his words make sense. Hate that somewhere beneath the rage and grief, a tiny part of me, the part that survived the battle, that crawled through mud to reach my father, wants to live.

My hand shakes as I reach for the bread. Our fingers brush, and the bond hums with approval. I jerk away, taking the food with me.

"This doesn't mean anything," I say around the first bite. Moon above, it tastes like heaven.

"I know."

I eat mechanically, each swallow feeling like betrayal. Betrayal of my father's memory. Of my pack. Of everything I swore to fight for.

A slow clap echoes from the doorway. Lucius leans against the frame, watching us with that calculating smile. "How touching. The big bad Alpha, hand-feeding his prisoner. Tell me, brother, when did you become so soft?"

Gillian  stands, positioning himself between Lucius and the bed. Between his brother and me. "I thought I sent you to the eastern border."

"I got bored." Lucius's eyes find mine over Gillian 's shoulder. "Besides, I couldn't miss this fascinating display. The mighty Gillian  Blackthorn, brought to his knees by a slip of a girl. Falling for the enemy. How poetic. How pathetically weak."

"Get. Out."

"Does the pack know their Alpha is going soft? That he's choosing his mate over his people?" Lucius's voice rises, carrying into the hallway where I hear shuffling feet. Guards listening. Reporting. "She tried to escape, and instead of punishing her, you coddled her. You.."

"I said OUT!"

The command reverberates through the room, through the building, through my bones. Gillian 's power floods the space, suffocating and absolute. Even Lucius takes an involuntary step back. But not me. I push myself upright, ignoring the pain screaming through my body. Enough. I'm done being the prize they fight over, the weakness they exploit.

"Stop," I rasp. Both brothers turn to me. "Just... stop."

My hands shake as I grip the edge of the bed. The words feel like poison coming up, but I force them out anyway.

"I'd rather die than be yours."

The silence that follows is deafening.

Gillian 's face goes carefully blank. But I see it, that flicker of pain he can't quite hide. Good. Let him hurt like I hurt. Lucius's smile turns predatory. He takes a step forward, then another, until he's beside the bed, looking down at me with those burning gold eyes.

"I can arrange that," he says softly.

The temperature drops.

Gillian 's wolf rises to the surface, and the sheer force of it drives me back against the pillows. His eyes blaze silver, his body trembling with barely contained violence. Power explodes from him, raw, primal, devastating.

Windows shatter. Furniture splinters. The stone walls themselves seem to groan under the weight of his rage. And at the center of it all, Gillian 's voice emerges as something inhuman, something ancient and terrifying:

"Touch her, and I will END you.”