Chapter 13

Aila Coraline

They sent me back to the prison cell. I’m still struggling with my broken ribs, and if not for my wolf’s help, I’d probably be dead by now. Cuts and scratches cover different parts of my body, along with countless bruises, but none of that pain compares to the ache in my ribs.

“You shouldn’t have played hero. Cynthia should be the one in your position,” Savannah complained. “Then we’d be free from these fools.”

I ignored Savannah’s whining. My whole body aches, and paying attention to her feels like too much effort. I just want to rest, to sleep off the pain, hoping that when I wake up, everything will be alright.

“You never really listen to me, do you?” she groaned.

I closed my eyes, trying to block her out, but she was so persistent. With no other choice, I finally gave in. I knew she wouldn’t stop until I did. She was always like that.

“You know it’s my fault she fell from the waterfall, right?” I tried to explain.

Sav hated Cynthia just as much as I did. But after everything that happened, Cynthia hadn’t tried to provoke me since. Maybe she learned her lesson; maybe she’s changed. People can change, after all.

“She deserved that fall, after everything she put us through,” Sav argued.

I shook my head, taken aback by how stubborn my wolf could be. No one deserves to be bullied. As much as I dislike Cynthia, I’d never stoop so low as to wish harm upon her or let her experience the pain I’ve been through. That’s not who I am, and besides, if anything did happen to her, my father would only blame me all over again.

"No one deserves anything bad, Sav. Let’s not be like that, alright?"

I don’t want to become the person I hated. If I know how it feels to be looked down on, hurt, and bullied, why would I choose to mirror that behavior? It doesn’t make sense.

My wolf and I were deep in thought when the prison door creaked open. A woman dressed in rugged clothes entered, setting a plate of food and a glass of water on the floor in front of me.

“Eat up,” she said, her tone as cold as her gaze. The words felt like a command rather than any attempt at comfort.

Hunger was the least of my concerns—I was in pain. If they truly wanted to offer anything helpful, they could have tended to my wounds instead. I glanced at the food but didn’t reach for it. As much as I needed strength, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be a trap.

“Thank you,” I muttered politely, though I had no intention of eating it.

I slept through the pain, only to wake up to a dark night. My stomach growled in hunger, and I noticed the untouched food on the floor. Rats scurried in and out of my cell, nibbling on bits of it.

I crawled over and leaned my back against the wall. My strength was fading, not only because of my wounds but because of my hunger. It was pride, and maybe a little fear, that kept me from eating. Now, I regretted it. I could have just eaten and spared myself from this weakness.

"I just hope Cynthia managed to tell Zayn we're stuck here," Sav grumbled in my head. "Otherwise, we’re literally going to die of hunger."

I was listening to her complaints when a sudden chorus of howls and shouts echoed through the place. I could hear frantic yelling, too. What’s happening? I tried to stand up, but my hands and feet were still chained.

Through a small hole in the cell wall, I saw bursts of light flaring up outside. An alarm blared, sounding like a warning of something gone terribly wrong.

The sounds felt like a déjà vu, as if this place was under attack — maybe by rogues. I muttered curses under my breath. How unlucky could I get?

I struggled against the chains, but I didn’t have the strength to break them. Transforming into my wolf form wasn’t an option either, as the silver in the chains was already burning my skin. It would hurt Savannah even more.

“Do you think we’ll make it out alive?” I whispered.

Just then, two men entered my cell. They unlocked the chains at my feet, but quickly clamped a new set around my wrists. One of them held me tightly, pressing a blade to my neck in a threatening grip, treating me like a hostage.

They dragged me outside and the scene was nothing short of a nightmare. Flames licked the sky, casting a grim light over the blood-streaked ground, where bodies lay motionless. The sounds of snarls and growls mixed with panicked shouts and the sharp clash of metal. My captors tightened their grip, one of them pressing a blade harder against my throat, making it clear I was their shield.

My heart nearly stopped when I spotted familiar faces — warriors from my pack. They fought fiercely and aggressively with anyone who dared challenge them. My mind reeled. Why are they here?

The man beside me barked orders to his allies, gripping me tighter as he dragged me. In the midst of the fighting, one figure stood out. Clad in dark clothing, a mask covering most of his face, he moved with a deadly grace that made it impossible not to recognize him. My heart clenched.

“Zayn…” I whispered.

The man holding me stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Zayn’s approach. “Stay back!” he shouted, digging the blade against my skin. “Come any closer, and she dies!”

He halted a few paces away. Slowly, he raised his hands in a show of surrender. “Let her go, and I might let you live.”

My brow instantly furrowed at the words that came out of his mouth. Was that his way of surrendering? By threatening? I couldn't believe this man.

The man holding me chuckled darkly. “You think I’m afraid of you? With her in my grasp, I hold the cards here.”

“Think carefully,” Zayn warned. “One wrong move, and this ends badly. You know who I am. And you know what happens to those who cross me.”

My captor faltered, his grip loosening just a bit. I seized the moment, driving my elbow into his ribs as hard as I could. His hold slipping enough for me to pull away, but before he could react, Zayn lunged. The blade clattered to the ground as my captor staggered, looking at Zayn in shock and fear. But he didn’t give him a second to recover.

As my captor tried to back away, Zayn caught him by the collar and muttered just loud enough for me to hear, “You never should’ve touched her.” In one fluid movement, he threw the man to the ground, and within seconds, he lay motionless.

Then, he met my gaze, his mask hiding whatever emotion he might’ve shown, but his voice softened. “You okay?”

I nodded, though my heart was still racing.

For a moment, his attention was suddenly diverted to something else. His eyes traveled over my body, examining me, likely noticing the fresh wounds from the duel. The cuts were still raw, and even with my wolf’s help, it would take a day or two for them to fully heal. I saw him pause a little longer when he noticed the dried blood staining my clothes. I hadn’t changed since earlier, so my blood had dried, darkening the fabric.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice colder and more intense than I’d ever heard it.

I knew he was serious most of the time; I’d heard many stories about him. But seeing him act this way in front of me felt different. He seemed like the man in my dreams. His reaction felt oddly familiar, though I knew he wasn’t usually like this.

"It was part of the deal, Zayn. I had to win something for us to be free. Cynthia must have told you what happened, right?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me into a light hug. It wasn’t too tight, careful not to hurt me more — he knew.

"I'm so sorry this happened again. I failed you," he whispered, and before I could say a word, blurry memories filled my mind. It was like a series of scenes, faces I couldn’t clearly see, but I saw him there... in my vision.