Chapter 5: Prison Never Ended

POV: ARIA

I kept my grip on the heavy wooden crate, staring at the stone floor near Vance’s boots. The damp air of the lower corridor pressed against my skin, but his harsh words barely made me flinch. After two years in Coldspire, insults were nothing.

"I am simply doing the work I was given, Lord Vance," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "Excuse me. I need to set this down."

Vance stepped directly into my path, blocking the entrance to the archive hallway. His face contorted with anger, disgusted by my quiet lack of reaction. To a man like him, someone who believed he was a righteous defender of justice, my silence wasn't submission. It was defiance.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" Vance barked, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You think if you act pitiful enough, people will forget what you did to Lyra? You poisoned your mother! You nearly ruined this entire pack!"

I slowly raised my head. My eyes met his, cold and completely hollow.

"I did not poison her," I said plainly.

Vance froze for a fraction of a second, shocked by the directness of my statement. Then his expression hardened into pure malice. "You liar. You confessed to Gavin! You took the blame because you were guilty!"

"I took the blame," I corrected quietly, "to repay a debt. Not because I was guilty."

"Enough of your sickening excuses!" Vance spat, grabbing my shoulder and shoving me backward. The heavy crate slipped from my fingers, crashing onto the stone floor with a loud, metallic clatter as silver candleholders scattered everywhere.

Before I could recover my balance, Vance grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the heavy iron door of the deep archive room, a windowless storage vault built into the bedrock beneath the estate.

"You haven't reflected on your sins at all!" Vance growled, throwing open the thick door. "You need to learn your place, Aria. A few hours in the dark will remind you who you are in this house!"

He shoved me hard into the room.

I stumbled over a wooden box, falling heavily onto the cold stone floor. Before I could scramble back to my feet, the heavy iron door slammed shut.

Click.

The heavy lock engaged. Pitch darkness swallowed me whole.

"Vance!" I gasped, the air rushing out of my lungs.

Darkness. Cold stone. Enclosed walls.

Instantly, the estate vanished. My mind shattered into raw, unadulterated terror as two years of solitary confinement at Coldspire Prison rushed back to consume me. I wasn't at the Frostwood estate anymore. I was back in the punishment box, the dark, airless hole where guards locked unruly prisoners for days without food or water.

My pulse hammered wildly against my ribs. My chest constricted so tightly I couldn't draw a breath. I scrambled on my hands and knees across the floor until my back slammed against the far wall, my fingers clawing uselessly at the cold stone.

"Please!" I screamed, my voice breaking into a ragged, desperate sob. "Please, open the door! Don't leave me in the dark! I'll be good! Please!"

Through the thick wood, I could vaguely hear Vance’s muffled voice telling me to save my pathetic crying before his footsteps faded into the distance.

Panic tore through my body like wild electrical shocks. I wrapped my arms around my knees, curling into a tight, defensive ball in the corner. My wolf, silent and dormant for two years, shivered in terror deep within my soul. I couldn't breathe. The air felt heavy, crushing my chest like iron bars. I hyperventilated, sobbing hysterically as I dug my fingernails into my arms, choking on my own gasps.

I lost all sense of time. The suffocating blackness swallowed every logical thought until I was nothing but a trembling mess on the freezing stone floor.

Then, dimly through the wall of my panic, muffled voices vibrated from the corridor outside.

"What is that?" a deep, authoritative male voice echoed. It was a stranger's voice  deep, regal, and laced with absolute command.

"It sounds like someone locked in the archive, my Lord," another voice replied nervously. "Shall we inform the pack Alpha?"

"No," the stranger commanded, his tone sharp and unyielding. "Open that door immediately."

A loud crack echoed through the lock as someone forced the iron mechanism open from the outside.

The heavy door swung wide. Harsh, glaring light flooded into the pitch-black vault, stinging my eyes.

I couldn't look up. I couldn't move. I collapsed in the corner, shaking so violently my skin felt ice-cold, my hands locked tightly over my head to protect myself as ragged, uncontrollable sobs tore from my raw throat.

"Call the physician," the stranger's voice growled low, echoing with a dangerous, intense authority that cut through the silence of the basement. "Now."

Heavy, measured footsteps crossed the threshold, stopping just inches from where I lay trembling. I shrank back against the wall, hiding my face against my knees, too terrified to see who had found me.

Through the haze of my tears, I could only see the dark, polished boots of a tall figure standing over me, flanked by heavily armed royal guards. I didn't recognize him.

"Don't... don't hurt me..." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper as I curled tighter into myself, completely unaware of who the noble stranger was or why he was staring down at my bruised wrists with a look of quiet, lethal anger.