The Last Breath

POV: Elara

The rattle of heavy iron chains against the damp stone floor was the only sound left to mark the passing of time.

I coughed, a violent, hacking spasm that tore through my chest and left the metallic taste of blood pooling in the back of my throat. My cheek remained pressed flat against the freezing, slime-slicked floor of the royal dungeon, my eyes staring blindly into the absolute dark.

I couldn't feel my fingers anymore. The heavy iron manacles locked around my wrists had worn away the skin weeks ago, leaving infected sores. My hair, once a thick, flowing mane of silver-white, now fell out in tangled patches against the stone, ruined by the slow, agonizing poison Cassian’s guards slipped into my water every single evening.

Directly above my head, through feet of solid bedrock and steel, the palace foundations vibrated.

They were dancing up there.

Tonight marked the three-year anniversary of Alpha King Kaelen Draven’s coronation, and by extension, his union with the pack's beloved new Luna. My step-sister. Lyra Voss.

Even deep in the bowels of the earth, I could hear the faint, muffled thrum of the royal orchestra. I could picture the grand ballroom perfectly. Lyra would be draped in gold, her big, tearful blue eyes shining as she looked up at the king. And Kaelen would be looking down at her with that fierce, unyielding protection he had once promised to me.

Suddenly, the heavy iron door at the end of the corridor groaned open.

The sharp click of expensive designer heels echoed down the stone steps, entirely out of place in the damp, rotting air of the pits. A flickering torchlight sliced through the dark, throwing long shadows across my cell bars.

A guard unlocked the grate, stepping aside with a low bow.

"Oh, matching the decor perfectly, I see," a soft, sweet, melodic voice purred.

Lyra stepped into the dim light of my cell. She was breathtaking. She wore a stunning crimson silk gown that hugged her curves, her golden hair pinned up in an intricate tiara of diamonds. Her skin was glowing, untouched by grease or dirt. She looked down at me, her big, watery eyes filling with a look of mocking pity.

"Look at you, Elara," she whispered, stepping closer, her expensive French perfume fighting the stench of mold. "You look absolutely pathetic. Do you know what Kaelen said to me right before I came down here? He said I shine brighter than the stars, and that he’s glad he cleansed his bloodline of a murderer."

I squeezed my eyes shut, a breathless, bloody rasp escaping my throat. "I didn't...kill her, Lyra. You know I didn't."

"Of course I know," Lyra laughed softly, a delicate, musical sound that made my skin crawl. She knelt down, completely unafraid of the dirt, and leaned in close to my face. Her voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "I was the one who drove the silver dagger into the Queen Mother’s heart, remember? You were just stupid enough to hold her body while I hid the hairpin in your dress."

My heart did a violent flip against my ribs. I tried to lung forward, to wrap my broken fingers around her throat, but the iron chains snapped tight, pinning me to the floor.

Lyra didn't even flinch. She just smiled, reaching out to pat my hollow, pale cheek with her gloved hand.

"Keep screaming, sister. No one can hear you," she murmured, standing back up and smoothing out her dress. "Cassian tells me the aconite in your water is almost done with its job. Enjoy your final night. I have to get back upstairs, my King is waiting for our anniversary dance."

She turned on her heel, the sharp click of her heels fading back up the stairs as the heavy iron doors slammed shut, plunging me back into the absolute, suffocating dark.

The numbness in my limbs began to track upward now, creeping past my elbows, heading straight for my failing heart. My inner wolf didn't even whimper. She was already dead, broken the moment Kaelen publicly rejected me and turned my mate mark black.

"Moon Goddess," I croaked into the empty, freezing dark, my voice nothing more than a rattle. "You absolute...blind coward."

Tears of hot, bitter rage forced their way out of my eyes, tracking through the dirt and dried blood on my pale face.

"You watched them kill your queen. You watched them frame an innocent girl," I whispered, my fingers weakly twitching against the stone as the darkness in the room began to blur. "If there is any justice left in your wretched sky...send me back. Let me live it again."

My heart gave a violent, irregular stutter. My chest tightened until it felt like an iron band was crushing my ribs.

"Give me one more chance," I growled, a sudden, terrifying spike of hatred flaring to life in the very center of my dying spirit. "And I will burn his kingdom to ash. I will make them all bleed. I will make him beg."

The distant, ringing silence took over. The coldness reached my throat, choking off the last pocket of air. My eyes rolled back, and my hand fell completely limp against the floor.

The dark took me completely.