5 - PRISON NEVER ENDED

The soapy water seeped into the rough fabric of Penelope’s pants, soaking through to her bruised knees.

She looked at the puddle spreading across the marble, then slowly tilted her head up to look at Augustus. His jaw was set hard. His eyes burned with the same disgust he had looked at her with during her sentencing two years ago.

"Get off the floor," Augustus ordered, his voice echoing in the long gallery.

Evelyn scrambled to her feet. She dropped her rag and bravely stepped between them, holding her arms out to block Augustus from getting closer.

"She's just working, Augustus," Evelyn said. "Leave her alone."

"Watch your mouth, Evelyn," Augustus warned. He didn't even bother looking at the maid. He kept his gaze locked firmly on Penelope. "I said get up."

Penelope didn't want a fight. She slowly pushed herself off the wet stone. Her fractured ribs gave a sharp, burning twinge, but she swallowed the pain and kept her face completely blank.

"Do you think Orion is blind?" Augustus asked. He took a step forward, forcing Evelyn to back up. "You put on these rags and scrub floors where the royal guests will see you. You just want everyone to ask why the poor, mistreated daughter is working like a slave."

"I was told to clean this hallway," Penelope said quietly.

"Stop lying," Augustus snapped. He shoved past Evelyn and stepped right up to Penelope, trapping her against the wall. "You came back here and immediately started trying to ruin Stella's life again. You can't stand that she is happy and you are nothing."

Penelope looked at his chest, refusing to rise to the bait.

"I want you to go upstairs right now," Augustus demanded. "You are going to find Stella, and you are going to get on your knees and apologize to her for what you did."

Penelope finally raised her head and looked him in the eye.

"No," she said.

Augustus narrowed his eyes. "What did you say to me?"

"I didn't commit the crime," Penelope stated.

Her voice was completely flat. There was no anger, no desperation, and no plea for him to believe her. It was just a simple, unbothered fact.

That calm denial made Augustus snap.

He reached out and grabbed her upper arm.

Penelope flinched violently. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to pull away, but Augustus didn't care about her fear. He yanked her away from the wall and pulled her down the hallway.

"Let her go!" Evelyn yelled, running after them.

Augustus turned and pointed a thick finger at the maid. "If you follow us, I will have you thrown out of this pack before lunch."

Evelyn froze in the middle of the gallery, her hands trembling.

Augustus turned back and dragged Penelope toward the rear stairwell. She stumbled over her own bare feet, struggling to keep up with his long strides so her shoulder wouldn't dislocate.

He pulled her down the concrete steps into the basement level of the estate.

The air down here was much colder. The smell of damp stone and old paper filled the narrow corridor.

Augustus dragged her to the very end of the hall and stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. It was the old pack archive, a windowless room used for storing decades of financial records.

He shoved the door open and pushed Penelope inside.

She tripped over the threshold and hit the edge of a wooden desk. She collapsed onto the floor, her ribs flaring with fresh agony.

"You can sit in here and reflect on your lies," Augustus spat. "When you are ready to tell the truth and apologize to the Luna and Stella, I will let you out."

He grabbed the handle and pulled the door shut.

The lock clicked into place with a loud, metallic snap.

Pitch black.

Penelope sat on the floor, staring into the absolute darkness.

The silence in the room was heavy and suffocating. The cold air pressed against her skin, smelling exactly like the solitary confinement block in the labor prison.

Her chest tightened.

She tried to take a breath, but her lungs refused to expand. Her heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped bird trying to escape its cage.

"No," Penelope whispered into the dark.

Her hands started to shake. She couldn't see the desk she had just hit. She couldn't even see her own fingers when she held them up to her face.

The two years of careful control she had built over her mind shattered in a matter of seconds.

She wasn't in the Visconti estate anymore. She was back in the camp. The guards were going to leave her in the dark for a week without food, just like they did when she refused to fight the other inmates.

Penelope scrambled forward on her hands and knees until her fingers hit the solid wood of the door.

"Please!" she screamed.

She slammed her fists against the wood. The sound echoed painfully in the small, sealed room.

"I'm sorry!" Penelope sobbed. She started scratching frantically at the doorframe. "Please don't leave me in here! I won't make a sound, I promise!"

Her fingernails broke against the rough wood, but she couldn't feel the pain. She just kept clawing and screaming, begging the prison guards to turn the lights back on.

Outside in the hallway, Augustus stood with his arms crossed.

He listened to her blood-curdling screams and rolled his eyes. She was putting on quite the performance to try and get out of a punishment. He turned around and started walking toward the stairs, leaving her to tire herself out.

King Landon walked down the lower corridors of the estate with his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

Orion walked beside him, pointing out the updated security measures the Visconti pack had recently installed near the armory. Landon nodded politely, but his mind was already focused on the political meetings scheduled for later that afternoon.

A raw, guttural scream suddenly echoed down the stone hallway.

Landon stopped walking.

"Please! I'm sorry!"

The voice was cracked and breathless. It was the sound of pure, unadulterated terror.

As a warrior who had fought in multiple border wars, Landon knew exactly what a person sounded like when they thought they were going to die. That scream was not a complaint. It was a desperate plea for mercy.

"What is that?" Landon demanded, his body instantly going tense.

Orion frowned and looked down the hall. "I'm not sure. It sounds like it's coming from the archives."

Landon didn't wait for him to explain. He broke into a run, his heavy boots pounding against the concrete.

He rounded the corner and saw one of the pack warriors walking away from the archive room. The man looked annoyed.

Landon shoved past Augustus and grabbed the handle of the locked door.

"Wait, Your Majesty, she is just acting out," Augustus started to say.

Landon ignored him entirely. He gripped the metal handle, planted his foot against the frame, and ripped the lock right out of the wood.

He threw the door open.

The bright hallway light flooded into the pitch-black room.

Penelope was curled into a tight ball on the floor. She was violently shaking, her arms wrapped around her head to shield herself from an invisible attacker. Blood smeared the inside of the door where she had clawed at the wood until her nails broke.

She didn't stop crying when the light hit her. She just pressed her face harder into her knees and begged for someone not to hit her.

Orion ran up behind Landon and gasped loudly at the sight of the blood.

Landon slowly lowered his hand from the broken door. He looked at the blood on her fingers, and then he looked at the sheer panic radiating from her frail body.

This girl wasn't a jealous, manipulative criminal. People who were faking a tantrum did not tear their own fingernails off in the dark.

Landon looked at the terrified Penelope and realized everyone in this household may have been telling him the wrong story.