1.Release

Elowen’s POV

The first fist caught me across the ribs before I could get my ass up. Pain tore through my side, sharp enough to steal my breath. I stumbled against the stone wall, my shoulder striking hard enough to make my vision blur.

“So you think you’re better than us?”

A hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head backward. I still said nothing. I had learned that silence was safer.

“Look at her,” another prisoner sneered. 

“Still acting like some noble lady.”

A boot struck my thigh. My knees buckled.

I caught myself against the wall instead of falling. That was a mistake. The woman behind me shoved me down.

My palms hit the cold floor. For a moment, I thought about fighting. My fingers curled against the stone. Then I remembered the last time I had fought back.

The bruises had lasted for days. The punishment had lasted longer. So I stayed down.

“Say something!” the first woman demanded.

I kept my head lowered. Her boot pressed into my back.

“You Veyra girls think everyone is under you.”

My throat tightened. I didn't have the strength to explain that I no longer thought I was above anyone. I barely thought about myself at all. A fist struck the side of my head. The world tilted. Someone grabbed my jaw and forced my face upward.

Her eyes were hard.

“You should have stayed quiet.”

The words made something cold settle in my stomach. I stared at her.

“What?”

She released my face immediately.

“Nothing.”

Before I could ask what she meant, a metal door slammed open.

“Enough!”

The guards stormed into the room. The woman beside me stepped back.

Another prisoner kicked my hand as she moved away, making me bite down on the inside of my cheek.

“On your feet!” one of the guards barked.

I pushed myself upright. My legs shook. Nobody offered me a hand, nobody ever did. 

The guards separated the prisoners, shouting orders until the room fell silent. I remained against the wall, breathing carefully.

Every breath hurts.

“Which one is Elowen Veyra?”

My stomach dropped instantly. I raised my hand. One of the guards was holding a sheet of paper with my name sitting at the top.

For two years, that name had meant punishment. A number. A cell. A crime I had committed because someone else had asked me to.

Now the guard looked at me, “Elowen Veyra.”

I swallowed, “Yes.”

“You’re being released.”

I stared at him. The words didn't make sense.

“What?”

“You heard me.” He glanced down at the paper. “Your release order came through this morning.”

I waited for the punchline. There wasn't one.

“Released?”

“Yes.”

My fingers went numb. For two years, I had imagined walking through the prison gates.

At first, I had imagined someone waiting.

Then I imagined my mother. Sometimes Caelan, my brother.  Eventually, I stopped imagining anyone. The guard frowned at me.

“Do you need me to repeat myself?”

I shook my head, No. I understood that. I simply didn't know what freedom was supposed to feel like anymore. I was taken to a small processing room.

My prison clothes were exchanged for the plain dress someone had apparently brought for me. My belongings fit inside a small cloth bag.

That was everything I had left. When the final gate opened, sunlight struck my eyes.

I stopped. The sky looked too wide, for some moment, I couldn't move.

A guard cleared his throat behind me.

“Someone is waiting outside.”

My heart gave one hard beat.

Someone? Okay. I tightened my grip on the bag and walked through the gate.

Caelan stood beside a Range Rover Classic. 

He looked almost exactly as I remembered him. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. The same straight posture that had once made me feel safe whenever he entered a room.

For one foolish second, I almost ran to him. Then I remembered the last time I had seen him. His hand had rested on my shoulder. His voice had been low.

Just this once, Elowen. Please. Seraphine needs me. 

I had believed him. I had believed that two years would pass quickly.

I had believed my family would come.

None of them did. Caelan's expression changed when he saw me. His eyes moved over my face, then down to my arms.

He seemed to notice the bruises.

“Elowen.”

I stopped several feet away. He took a step toward me. 

I lowered my eyes, “Thank you for coming to collect me, Alpha.”

He froze. The distance between us suddenly felt much larger.

“Alpha?”

I nodded, “I'm ready to leave now.”

His jaw tightened. He opened the passenger door.

“Get in.”

I did. He walked around the vehicle and climbed behind the wheel. For several minutes, neither of us spoke. The prison disappeared behind us.

I watched the gates through the window until they became a dark line in the distance.

I didn't look back again. Caelan kept glancing at me.

“You're very quiet.”

“I don't have much to say.”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“You could at least tell me how you're feeling.”

I looked at him, “I was released.”

His expression faltered.

“That isn't what I meant.”

“I know.”

Silence filled the car again. He cleared his throat.

“Things at home have changed.”

I turned toward the window.

“Okay.”

“The Lycan King is visiting the pack soon.”

I said nothing.

“He'll be staying at the estate for several days.”

Another pause. Then Caelan sighed.

“I need you to behave yourself around Seraphine.”

My fingers slowly tightened around the cloth bag in my lap. There it was. Two years. Two years without a visit. Two years without a letter. Two years in Blackstone. And the first thing my brother wanted from me was still the same.

“Of course,” I said.

He looked at me.

“You understand what I'm saying?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“She's been through enough too.”

I stared at the passing trees.

“So have I.”

His mouth opened. Nothing came out. The vehicle continued down the road. After a while, he spoke again.

“You don't have to be difficult.”

I almost smiled. Instead, I looked down at my hands.

The bruises around my wrists had darkened.

Caelan noticed.

“What happened there?”

“Nothing.”

He frowned, “Elowen.”

“I said it was nothing.”

He reached across the space between us. His fingers moved toward my wrist. My body reacted before my mind could stop it.

I ducked. Both arms flew over my head.

I curled against the door, shoulders hunched, eyes squeezed shut. My breath came out in a broken gasp. For one terrible second, I was back in Blackstone.

Dark walls. Heavy footsteps. A hand reaching for me. I waited for the blow.

It never came. The car had gone completely silent.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. Caelan's hand was suspended in the air between us.

He stared at me. Then he slowly lowered it.

I couldn't see his eyes. Neither of us spoke. But something had changed in his face.

For once, since he had picked me up, he wasn't looking at the sister he remembered.

He was looking at what had been left of her. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“What happened to you in that prison?”

I turned my face toward the window. I had spent two years learning how to survive Blackstone. I had thought the hardest part was getting out.

I was wrong. The hardest part was going home.