The Night I Was Set Free

Chapter Forty One : The Night I Was Set Free

Ronan’s POV

I was dying. Not from wounds, not from poison—though my body ached in places I couldn’t even feel anymore. I was dying because my soul had been caged. Because my heart, the only thing I had left, was being crushed with each passing day.

The prison was cold. The stone floor was harder than anything I’d ever slept on. No bed. No food. Just a rusted bucket in one corner. The walls smelled of mold, rot, and old blood. Maybe mine. Maybe someone else’s.

I didn’t know how many days had passed.

There was no window. No way to tell night from day, except for when the guards came to mock me.

They’d toss scraps near the bars, but I was too weak to move most times. When I did try to crawl over, a boot would slam into my stomach and leave me breathless.

Still, I didn’t beg.

Not once.

Because my pain didn’t matter.

Only one thing did.

Selene.

I kept seeing her in my dreams—her soft voice calling my name. Her smile. The way she used to roll her eyes at my stupid jokes. Her warmth beside me when everything else in the world felt cold.

I failed her.

That thought haunted me more than the hunger.

I had tried to ask Sasha where she was—just one question. Where is Selene? And for that, I was thrown here like an animal.

My lips were cracked. My throat so dry it felt like swallowing glass. My body… it didn’t even feel like mine anymore. I was losing my mind.

But even in that darkness, I clung to her memory.

I whispered her name into the silence.

Over and over.

Until it became a prayer.

Selene. Selene. Selene…

Then one night—it must have been night because everything was quieter than usual—I heard footsteps. Not loud ones. Careful. Slow.

I opened my eyes, barely. At first, all I saw was a shadow.

I blinked, trying to sit up, but my arms gave out beneath me.

The figure stepped closer.

He was tall. Straight-backed. His eyes caught the flickering torchlight.

Lucien.

I stared at him, confused. Was this another dream?

He stood there, hands behind his back, saying nothing for a long time.

I licked my lips, but I had no spit left to speak.

Finally, he knelt beside me. His eyes looked at me—not with hate. Not with pity. But with something else. Something unreadable.

“She still talks about you,” he said quietly.

My heart clenched.

“She thinks you hate her,” he continued. “Thinks you forgot her. But she still waits. Every day. Even when she tries to act strong, I see it in her eyes. She wants you.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. My lips trembled. I hadn’t cried in years—not like this.

“Why… why are you telling me this?” I whispered, voice barely there.

Lucien stood and pulled something from his pocket. A key.

My breath hitched.

He walked to the door. Slid the key into the lock. Turned it.

The click echoed like thunder in the quiet.

“You need to go to her,” he said.

I couldn’t move. Not because I didn’t want to—but because my body had been still for too long. The muscles in my legs screamed when I tried to stand. My knees buckled.

Lucien walked over and grabbed my arm. He helped me up slowly. I leaned on the wall, panting.

“She’s in danger,” he said. “Sasha knows where she is now. She’ll come for her. And if you stay here… you won’t be able to stop it.”

He stepped back. His expression hardened.

“This didn’t happen. I was never here. You were never here. If they catch you, I will deny everything. Do you understand?”

I nodded, even though my vision blurred from the pain.

He opened a side gate at the end of a dark corridor.

“The woods are that way. Keep east. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.”

I didn’t have the strength to say thank you.

But I looked at him.

And I hoped he saw it in my eyes.

Then I stepped out.

The cold air hit my skin like knives. After days of being inside, it was like my senses came alive all at once. The smell of trees. Wet soil. The wind brushing past my face.

I stumbled. Fell. Crawled. Got back up.

My legs barely worked, but my heart pushed them forward.

I thought of Selene.

I thought of her soft hands holding my face.

Her voice whispering, “Come back to me.”

I ran.

I didn’t care about the blood dripping from my feet. I didn’t care about the rocks cutting into my skin. I didn’t care that every breath felt like fire.

I was going to her.

I didn’t know what would happen. If I’d make it before Sasha did. If I’d die on the way. But even if I had to crawl the rest of the way, even if it broke me—

I would reach her.

Because love like this didn’t die in a cell.

Love like this ran wild.

And I was running for her.