Chapter 33: Shackled Hope
The first thing Giselle became aware of was the cold.
It sank into her skin like tiny knives, numbing her limbs and sending tremors through her spine. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, only to be greeted by the darkness of a small, damp cell. The air was thick with mildew and rot, the stone beneath her cheek slick with moisture. Pain radiated through her side when she tried to shift, and she winced, stifling a groan.
Her wolf was silent, curled into a tight, invisible ball somewhere deep in her mind. There was no pacing, no sarcastic commentary—only a hollow silence that chilled her more than the dungeon air ever could.
“Where…?” Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.
Bits and pieces came back in flashes—the rogue leader’s cruel smile, his hand clamped like iron around her arm, the sound of battle and Rowan’s voice shouting in the distance. Then, nothing. The world had gone black. She didn’t know how long it had been.
Lifting her head, she took in her surroundings. The room was barely large enough to stretch out in, with bars on one side and stone on the others. A sliver of moonlight poured through a small hole high in the wall, just enough to cast her surroundings in pale silver. Her wrists were scraped and raw, probably from struggling. She must’ve passed out. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what might be happening to Rowan and the pack while she was rotting in this dungeon.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the narrow corridor, slow and deliberate.
Giselle sat on the floor of her cell, back against the damp stone wall, her knees pulled to her chest. She didn't lift her head when the torchlight flared across the floor. She already knew who it was.
Her heart lurched as the rogue leader appeared in front of her cell, his face illuminated by the flickering torch in his hand. Tall, with a jagged scar bisecting his left brow and curling into his cheek, he looked every bit the ruthless tyrant she’d grown up fearing.
“Well, well. Sleeping beauty awakens,” he said, his voice gravelly and low.
She didn’t reply.
“You always had that same look in your eyes,” he said, voice low and smooth like poison. “Even when you were just a pup, running behind your mother’s legs like a little shadow. Defiant. But afraid.”
Giselle finally looked up, her eyes steely despite the ache in her bones. “You talk too much.”
He laughed. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just waited too long to have this conversation.” He crouched so that his face was level with hers on the other side of the bars. “You should take pride in what you’ve done, Giselle. You’re going to help me take the most elusive pack in the region. One that’s been hidden for centuries.”
“I’m not helping you,” she snapped, her voice laced with fury.
He crouched further in front of the bars, his eyes glinting with sadistic amusement. “You should be proud. You made quite the spectacle. All eyes on you when you were dragged through those woods.”
“Where are we?” she rasped.
“Far enough,” he replied with a smirk. “Not that it matters. No one’s coming.”
Her fists clenched. “Rowan will come looking for me, and he will find me.”
The rogue alpha chuckled. “Oh, the great Alpha Rowan. Do you really think he’ll still want you after this? After you led me straight to him and his precious little celebration?”
“I didn’t—” she began.
“But you did,” he cut in smoothly. “Even if you didn’t mean to, it doesn’t matter. They saw you. You were out of your cell. You were with me. That’s all it takes.”
Giselle’s throat tightened. She couldn’t let herself believe his words. She couldn’t.
“Whatever your plan is, it won’t work,” she said, her voice steadier now. “You’ll never break them, and certainly not with my help.”
“But you are,” he said simply. “Just by being who you are. The Alpha’s mate. The missing half of his soul. That bond... it’s a beautiful weakness, isn't it?”
Her stomach twisted.
He continued, “I don’t need to burn down the pack or spill blood on every doorstep. I only need to break Rowan. And with you by my side, that won’t be hard. One howl from you, and he'll come running. And when he does…”
He trailed off, tapping one scarred finger against the iron bars.
“I'll make him watch,” he whispered. “Watch his pack fall apart from the inside. Watch his Luna at my side.”
Giselle’s lips curled into a snarl. “You’ll never have me. Even if you chain me to this cell for eternity.”
“You’ll change your mind,” he said, rising to full height. “Not because I’ll force you to—but because when he sees you standing beside me, bloodied and bound... that’s when the real breaking begins.”
Giselle stood too, eyes blazing. “He’ll come. But not for your sick game. He’ll come, and he’ll end you.”
The rogue leader chuckled. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
He turned to leave.
“Why me?” she demanded. “Why go through all this trouble for me?”
He paused at the door. “Because you’re the key. Whether you want to be or not.”
He turned and walked away, leaving the cold silence in his wake, broken only by the sound of Giselle’s ragged breathing and the distant drip of water from the ceiling.
Her hands clenched into fists.
‘Rowan,’ she thought, her heart aching. ‘Please, don’t come alone…’
Giselle let her body collapse against the stone wall, her limbs trembling. Her wolf stirred faintly, still silent.
‘I’m sorry,’ Giselle thought.
‘You should be,’ her wolf replied weakly. ‘I warned you. I told you not to trust strangers in the dark.’
‘You told me to run. To stretch. To feel the wind.’
‘I didn't tell you to follow her,’ her wolf snapped. But then sighed, the edge softening. ‘I miss the forest too. I miss Rowan.’
Giselle closed her eyes, letting the tears slip down her cheeks. “Me too,” she whispered aloud.
They were both broken. Wounded. But not defeated.
Giselle wrapped her arms around her knees and leaned her head back against the wall. “We’ll get out of this,” she murmured, more for her wolf than herself. “We’ll find a way back.”
‘We have to,’ her wolf whispered. ‘For him.’
And for us.
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