The Prisoner

Maya's POV 

The stone floor of the underground prison was pure ice. The chill bled straight through my thin clothes and deep into my bones.

For three long days, I had been locked in this pitch-black cell. Only heavy iron bars separated me from the execution block.

My failing heart throbbed with a dull ache. It was a constant reminder that my time was running out anyway.

Yet the grieving Lycan King, Valen Alaric, intended to cut my remaining weeks much shorter.

"Please! You have to listen to me!" I had begged until my throat felt shredded.

I stared up hopelessly at the tall guards in the hallway.

"I didn't mean to hit her! She was already hurt—she died in my arms! My husband is an Alpha. Please, just call his pack. He can tell you who I am—"

But the guards did not even blink. To them, I was just a lying human who had killed their beloved Queen.

And my husband?

A bitter laugh escaped my dry lips into the dark.

Even if they did reach out to his territory, Marcus would not come for me.

He was likely celebrating his free new life. Probably showing off Talia, his perfect new mate, to the pack.

The heavy iron door at the end of the hallway suddenly groaned open. A guard marched down the steep steps.

His face was a hard mask.

"Prisoner," he barked, his voice echoing through the damp space.

"Your final appeals have been denied by the King. You will be executed at dawn."

A sharp wave of dread flooded my veins.

Dawn?!

That left me with only a few hours to live. I could not let myself die like this. I was being branded a killer for a tragedy I had tried to stop. An entire kingdom hated me.

Just as the guard turned his back to light a new torch on the wall, a sudden, heavy crash echoed from the floors above.

Frantic shouts followed, then the sound of fighting.

"Shit!"

The guard cursed loudly, drew his heavy sword, and ran back up the stairs to look for the threat.

In his rush, the cell latch did not fully lock.

This was my only chance.

With a sudden burst of energy, I pushed against the heavy iron gate. To my surprise, it swung open with a faint creak.

I slipped out into the hallway, my bare feet making no sound against the freezing stone.

I avoided the main stairs where the danger was. Instead, I ran down a narrow, empty tunnel to the right, chasing a faint draft of fresh air.

I moved blindly through the winding paths. My lungs burned as my breath came in short gasps.

I could feel the outside world getting closer. I could smell the crisp scent of pine trees.

I was so close to escaping this nightmare.

"Ah...!" I groaned as a sudden spike of pain flared in my chest.

Immediately, my vision blurred with dark spots and my knees buckled.

I crashed against the damp stone wall, clutching my chest as I fought to force air into my lungs.

My heart was giving out, and I could not move. If I kept running, my body would fail before I ever reached the exit.

"C'mon. Not now..." I mumbled, leaning against the stone and trying to let my heart settle.

It was beating so loudly that it echoed in my ears.

But I still managed to hear a wet, choking gasp.

"It hurts so much!"

Then came the tiny, tearful cry of a girl.

A little girl.

I didn't need to strain my eyes to see the small figure lying on the floor behind a pillar.

At the sight of her, the memory of Leo's cruel rejection flashed through my mind.

Looking toward the dark corner, my doctor instincts overrode my terror.

I was running from a death sentence, but I could not leave a dying child alone in the dark.

So I dragged my shaking body around the corner and gasped.

Sitting on the floor was a tiny girl. She looked about six years old, dressed in a fancy but dirty velvet dress. Her eyes were rolled back. Her small frame was rigid and shaking violently as her jaw locked shut.

She was having a severe seizure.

"Hey, look at me. Listen to my voice," I gasped, sliding to my knees in front of her.

Her consciousness was completely gone, swallowed by the medical emergency.

An ordinary person would have panicked or run past to save themselves.

But my hands moved with smooth, clinical habit. I knew exactly what to do.

Frantic, I looked around the damp stone floor. There were no medical supplies. I had to rely on basic first aid.

I quickly reached out, gently catching her head to guide her onto her side. By putting her in the recovery position, I ensured her airway would stay clear if she vomited.

It would keep her from choking.

"Keep breathing, sweetie. Come on," I whispered, keeping my voice steady and calm.

I unbuttoned the tight collar of her dress to help her breathe. I used my own bruised hands as a cushion to protect her head from the hard stone floor while her body shook.

I did not try to hold her limbs down. Forcing a seizing patient to stay still could break their bones.

I just stayed there, counting the seconds in my head and watching her shallow breathing until the attack finally ran its course.

Slowly, the violent shaking began to stop. Her body went limp and her chest rose and fell in heavy, exhausted rhythms.

Instead of drifting completely into sleep, her eyelids fluttered. A soft, weak moan left her lips as she opened her eyes slightly.

"Papa...?" she whispered, her voice incredibly small and slurred.

"No, sweetie. Your papa isn't here right now," I said gently, keeping my hands resting lightly on her shoulders so she wouldn't try to move too fast. "But you're safe. Just lay still for a moment."

She blinked weakly, trying to focus her blurry eyes on my face. She looked at my prison clothes, then down at my bare, bruised hands.

"Are you... an angel?" she murmured, her lower lip trembling. "My head hurts. It feels like lightning."

"I'm not an angel, sweetie. I'm a doctor," I replied, giving her a small, reassuring smile despite the panic thumping in my chest. "The lightning is gone now. You just need to rest your body."

She reached out with a trembling hand, her small fingers weakly grasping the fabric of my sleeve. "Don't go. Don't leave me in the dark."

"I'm right here," I whispered, squeezing her tiny hand. "I won't leave you."

Her grip relaxed as the heavy exhaustion finally took over, and she fell into a deep sleep.

"Thank God," I sighed.

Gently, I wiped her face and brushed her tangled hair away from her eyes.

She was safe now, but she would not wake for a while.

With that, I tried to force myself to stand.

But the effort completely drained me.

"Fuck," I moaned as a sudden wave of dizziness crashed over me.

My knees gave out, and I collapsed heavily back onto the cold stone floor just a few feet away from the sleeping girl.

Before I could even try to drag myself back up, a loud, booming voice shattered the silence.

"There she is! Capture the prisoner!"

Almost immediately, heavy armored boots thundered down the hall.

Before I could even try to crawl away, four large guards slammed my body against the stone floor.

Heavy iron cuffs snapped tightly around my wrists, the weight of the metal pinning my exhausted body down.

"No! Please!" I cried weakly.

My vision darkened into shadows as the guards dragged me roughly backward through the dirt.

They pulled me away from the light, leaving the little girl safe in the shadows as they hauled me straight toward the waiting execution block.