Chapter 3

Zirelle’s POV

I was tossed back into my cell, deep beneath the earth, buried under the forest.

They just want me to die. And honestly, I want to die too.

But why haven’t I?

For years, I’ve starved, shriveled, and drained into this skeleton of a being. Yet death refuses to claim me.

The cycle remained the same—scraps for food, dragged out when the pack needed healing, then thrown back into this cold, dark pit.

Weeks passed before chaos erupted in the pack. My uncle, Garrick, was gravely injured in a deadly fight with rogue wolves.

He was barely alive. His bones shattered, his body covered in deep wounds, and blood poured endlessly from him.

The pack’s healers tried to save him, but their powers couldn’t mend even a single gash.

Panic spread like wildfire. Garrick was not just any wolf—he was a warrior, a fighter who had defended the pack countless times, even when danger loomed large. Losing him would be devastating.

When all else failed, they came for me again.

The soldiers rushed to my cell in desperation, their heavy boots echoing against the iron doors. But as they reached for the keys, panic struck—they couldn’t find them.

The keys to the nine solid iron doors were gone.

The guards searched frantically, overturning everything in sight, but the keys were nowhere to be found.

“Garrick can’t die! Find the keys, you fools!” the Alpha roared, his voice shaking the earth.

The pack descended into chaos, with everyone running in frantic circles, searching and scouring for the missing keys.

But nothing came of it.

These doors weren’t ordinary—they were forged from Darksteel, a legendary metal said to be unbreakable, forged in the heart of the earth itself. Even with a thousand warriors armed with tools and weapons, the doors wouldn’t budge without the keys

Despite everything Garrick had done to me—betraying me, revealing my secret to the pack, and condemning me to this dungeon—he was still family.

And family, no matter how broken, is still family.

I couldn’t let him die.

I sat motionless, listening to the chaos above. My heart pounded as a fire sparked within me.

I wouldn’t let him die.

I didn’t care about the years of pain, the cruelty, or the hatred. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet. My body trembled, weak and unused to movement after years of confinement.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and a heat began to spread through my chest.

I closed my eyes, reaching deep into the core of my being, where my buried powers lay dormant.

And then I screamed.

It wasn’t a cry of pain or fear—it was a primal, guttural roar that tore through the silence like a blade.

Chains that had bound my wrists for years began to glow like molten fire, shattering into pieces that clattered to the floor.

The ground trembled beneath me.

I took a step forward, raising my trembling hands. Energy I’d never felt before coursed through my veins, ancient and powerful.

I pushed my palms outward, and with a deafening explosion, the first iron door burst open.

Then the second.

The third.

One by one, all nine solid iron doors exploded, the Darksteel reduced to nothing but shards.

The guards who had been standing nearby scattered like frightened mice. Some hid, others ran for their lives.

I didn’t care.

My focus was on one thing: saving Garrick.

The more energy I poured into my magic, the more drained I felt. It was as though every ounce of my power was being poured into this act of defiance.

As I stepped out of the dungeon, the light surrounding me blazed brighter, consuming my frail form.

The pack members froze in terror, their eyes wide with fear.

Mothers shielded their children, and the braver wolves backed away cautiously.

I didn’t stop.

I found Garrick lying on the ground, barely breathing. His body was broken, blood pooling beneath him.

I dropped to my knees beside him. Tears blurred my vision as I placed my hands over his chest.

“Please, live,” I whispered.

Light exploded from my palms, flowing into his heart. The intensity of it made the crowd shield their eyes, but I didn’t stop.

Bones cracked back into place. Wounds closed, knitting themselves together as though they’d never been there.

His heartbeat returned, steady and strong.

He gasped for air, coughing as his body restored itself.

I smiled weakly, knowing I’d succeeded.

But as his eyes fluttered open, I felt the last thread of my strength snap.

My body collapsed to the ground, lifeless and cold.

Someone splashed cold water on my face, jolting me awake.

I gasped, my body trembling with exhaustion.

Something was wrong.

I lifted my hands, trying to summon the magic that had always weighed down my palms.

Nothing.

The energy, the power that had been my lifeline for years—it was gone.

I tried again, this time attempting to change my appearance, to transform into something other than the hollow, bony shell I’d become.

Still, nothing.

It was gone.

I was stuck in this frail, skeletal form. The girl who once held power was no more.

I looked up to find the pack staring at me.

Fear.

That was all I saw in their eyes.

Some whispered, “Witch,” under their breath. Others stood frozen, unsure of what to do next.

Even Garrick, the man I had just saved, stared at me with disgust.

Not a single word of thanks passed his lips.

Instead, he looked at me as though I were a monster.

I had given everything,everything;to save him.

And now, I had nothing left.

The only thing that had kept me alive was my power. Without it, I was nothing but a weak, broken girl.

I knew what would happen next.

Without my powers, I was no longer useful to the pack.

They’d finally execute me.