Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Callie set the flowers down slowly to avoid spilling it. "Liam."

"Don't." His voice sharpened instantly. "Don't say my name like we're still something to each other. You lost that right the day you let Rowena take the blame for what you did to her."

"I didn't do anything to her."

"Still denying it." Liam's laugh held no humor in it at all. "Two years, and you still can't bring yourself to admit it. Do you know what that girl went through because of you? Do you know how long it took her to trust anyone in this house again?"

"I didn't hurt Rowena," Callie said, and for the first time since she'd come home there was pure anger in her tone. The familiar urge to defend herself there as she allowed it 

"I never touched her. She didn't take any blame, rather I was the one who took the blame because Peter asked me to, because it was easier for everyone if I disappeared for a while instead of her. That's the truth, whether you believe it or not."

Liam's face went hard. "You have some nerve lying to my face."

"I'm not asking you to believe me."

"You will apologize to her," he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping into something low and furious. "You will go to Rowena today and you will apologize properly, and you will mean it, or so help me—"

"No."

The single word seemed to catch him entirely off guard. For a moment he just stared at her, like the concept of her refusing him hadn't occurred to him as a possibility. That he had never expected that the girl who followed him all the time back then like a duckling could stand up for herself and use the word no in his presence.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no." Callie held his gaze not flinching from it as she continued speaking.

"I won't apologize for something I didn't do."

Liam's jaw worked, fury climbing up his neck in a slow flush. "Fine," he said. "Fine. If you want to stay stubborn, maybe some time alone will help you reconsider."

He grabbed her arm before she could step back, his grip hard enough to bruise, and pulled her across the garden toward the old wing of the estate, ignoring her attempts to twist free.

"Liam, let go—"

"You'll thank me later," he said, "once you've had time to think clearly."

He dragged her down a narrow set of stone steps into the estate's old archive room, a windowless space beneath the house  and shoved her inside before she fully understood what was happening.

"Liam, don't—"

The heavy iron door slammed shut. A moment later she heard the bolt slide home.

"Liam!" She threw herself against the door, pounding both fists against the cold metal. "Liam, open the door!"

Silence answered her.

The room was almost entirely dark, except from a small stream of light that came from the small gap in the roof.

Callie's breath came fast and shallow. The walls felt like they were closing in, reminding her too much of the dark when she was back in those cells.

"Please," she gasped, her voice breaking apart. "Please, someone, let me out—"

Her hands scraped raw against the door. Her chest heaved, each breath shorter than the last, black spots crowding the edges of her vision. She wasn't in the estate anymore. She was back in that cell, back beneath the wash basins, back in the dark where no one ever came.

"Please—" The word tore out of her in a sob. "Please, I'll do anything, just let me out, please—"

---

The Lycan King had been walking the perimeter of the old estate with two of his men, reviewing the grounds ahead of the evening's banquet, when the sound reached him. It was faint at first, muffled but he could hear it was human. Someone who was very afraid.

He stopped walking.

"Wait," he said, lifting a hand.

His men fell silent, and in the quiet, they heard it clearly: a voice, hoarse and broken, begging to be let out.

"Where is that coming from?" King asked.

One of his men frowned, glancing toward the narrow steps half-hidden behind an overgrown hedge. "The old archive room, sir. It hasn't been used in years."

"Open it."

"Sir, we don't have the—"

"I said open it."

There was no arguing with that tone. Within minutes the bolt was forced, and the heavy iron door swung open.

Callie was on the floor just inside, curled into herself, arms locked over her head, her whole body shaking. She didn't seem to register the fact that the door was opened or the room was lit up once more.

She didn't register the sounds of the footsteps approaching.

 She simply kept sobbing,  repeating the same plea into her own knees.

"Please don't— please, I'll be good, just don't leave me here—"

He crouched down in front of her,carefully not to startle her as he opened his mouth.

"You're out," he said, low and even. "The door is open. No one is locking you in."

Callie flinched at the sound of his voice, but didn't lift her head.

King didn't reach for her knowing touching her now would do more harm than good. "Look," he said. "Look at the door."

It took her a long moment but she finally did and this time around she started weeping tears of relief all over again.

"Get a doctor, and find me Peter, he has a lot to answer for" King said without turning around, his voice calm despite the anger that was building up in him.