เข้าสู่ระบบThunder rolled overhead as night fell.I sat in my cell, the rusted nail clutched in my bleeding palm, and listened to the world prepare for my death.The storm had been building all day. First just distant clouds on the horizon, then a gradual darkening of the sky, then the first fat drops of rain hitting the packhouse roof. Now it was a full tempest—wind howling through the corridors, rain lashing against stone, thunder shaking the very foundations of the building.Perfect weather for an accident.Perfect weather for a prisoner to attempt escape and meet an unfortunate end.Perfect weather for murder disguised as tragedy.The guards stationed outside my cell were getting restless. I could hear them shifting, muttering to each other, their voices carrying down the corridor."How much longer?" one asked."Few more hours," his companion replied. "Alpha said to wait until the storm peaks. Make it look natural.""Nasty business.""It is what it is." The sound of liquid sloshing. A bottle
"I wanted to see you one last time," Bianca said sweetly, her voice echoing softly in the stone corridor.She moved with that effortless grace she had always possessed, every step calculated and perfect. Even here, in the dim torchlight of the prison corridor, she looked beautiful. Untouchable. Like something out of a dream.Or a nightmare.She crouched in front of the bars, bringing herself to my eye level. Close enough that I could see the satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. Far enough that I couldn't reach her through the spelled iron."How are you holding up?" she asked, her tone suggesting genuine concern. Like she actually cared. Like she wasn't the architect of my destruction.I didn't answer. Just stared at her, trying to understand how we had gotten here. How the girl I had grown up with, shared a home with, called sister—had become this."Not talking?" Bianca tilted her head. "That is unlike you. You always had so much to say. So many protests. So many desperate explanations
They voted without hesitation."Aye," Elder Frost had said."Aye," Elder Chen had agreed."Aye," Adrian had confirmed, his voice steady and cold."Aye," my father had finished, sealing my fate with a single word.Not one voice dissented except Hawthorne's, and his objection meant nothing against the unified front of the others.Four votes for execution. One against. The decision was final.I stayed pressed against the wall in the corridor, my chains cold against my wrists, listening as they discussed the logistics of my death like they were planning a dinner party."The method?" Elder Chen asked."Traditional," Marcus replied. "Throat cutting. Quick. Clean. Respectful, despite the crime."Respectful. They were going to murder me and call it respectful."When?" Elder Frost questioned."Tomorrow night," Marcus said. "During the storm."I watched the shadows of their feet through the crack beneath the door. Saw them shift and move as wolves stood, prepared to leave, satisfied with their
They didn't bring me to the meeting.The guards came for me at dawn, dragging me from the cell with rough hands and iron chains that bit into my wrists. I thought they were taking me to the trial. That I would at least be present for my own judgment.I was wrong.They hauled me up the stone stairs, through corridors I barely recognized in my exhausted state, and then stopped in a shadowed alcove near the council chambers. Close enough to hear. Far enough that no one inside would see me."Stay here," one guard ordered, shoving me against the wall. "Don't move. Don't speak. If you make a sound, you will regret it."Then they left me there, chained and hidden, while they went inside to join the others.I pressed myself against the cold stone, my wrists chained in front of me, and listened from the shadows of the lower corridor as pack elders argued about my fate like I wasn't even alive.Like I was already dead."The evidence is clear," Alpha Marcus's voice carried through the partially
The worst part of the cell wasn't the cold.It wasn't the darkness or the damp stone that seeped into my bones. It wasn't the hunger gnawing at my stomach or the thirst that made my throat feel like sandpaper. It wasn't even the iron bars humming with magic designed to keep me weak.It was the silence.The terrible, suffocating silence inside my own head where my wolf used to be.I sat against the wall, my knees pulled to my chest, and reached for her again. The way I had been doing for days now. Searching for that familiar presence, that constant companion who had been with me since I first shifted at thirteen.Please, I begged silently. Please answer me. Please come back.Nothing.Not a whisper. Not a whimper. Not even the faintest flicker of awareness.My wolf didn't stir. Didn't rage. Didn't fight.She was just... gone.I pressed my palm to my chest, right over my heart, panic clawing up my throat. This wasn't normal. Wolves didn't just disappear. Even broken ones, even damaged on
The cell was cold and dark, iron bars humming faintly with warding magic.I felt it the moment they locked me inside—a subtle vibration in the air that pressed against my skin like a warning. The bars weren't just metal. They were spelled. Enchanted to suppress wolf abilities, to keep prisoners weak and contained.Not that I needed magic to keep me weak.My wolf was already gone.I sat in the corner, my back against the damp stone wall, and tried once again to reach for her. That constant presence that had been with me since I was a child. The voice that whispered strength when I had none. The instinct that kept me alive.Please, I thought desperately. Please come back. I need you.Nothing.Just terrible, suffocating silence.My wolf had curled into herself somewhere deep inside me and refused to respond. Like she was protecting herself from pain the only way she knew how—by disappearing completely.Maybe she had the right idea.Hours passed. Or maybe days. Time moved strangely in the







