Chapter 14

The corridors of the castle were lit by flickering torches as I made my way back from the Dowager Queen's chambers. My heart was heavy with the weight of our conversation. Prince Rowan was right about her. She didn’t care about me at all, or him, she just wanted to find out if he was still alive, if there was a way that he could serve her selfish interests. She didn’t really care about him. It was all politics to her and he was just a pawn in her game. She just wanted to make sure he was no longer useful to her.

As I rounded a corner, two guards appeared seemingly from nowhere. Their presence made my heart skip a beat. "Lady Isabelle," one of them said, his tone cold and formal. "You must come with us."

"Why? What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, but my voice faltered. They offered no answer, merely exchanging a grim look before each took hold of one of my arms, their grips like iron.

I was dragged through the labyrinthine hallways, away from the path to Prince Rowan's chambers. Panic set in as I realized we were descending into the bowels of the castle. My questions and protests fell on deaf ears. I tried to scream but they held me down tightly, drowning my protests in their rough handling.

We finally reached a heavy wooden door bound with iron. One of the guards unlocked it, and the door creaked open to reveal a dark, musty dungeon. I recoiled at the sight and smell, but the guards' unyielding hands propelled me forward. They thrust me inside and slammed the door shut behind me, the echo of its closing a final, chilling sound.

For a moment, I was plunged into darkness, the only sound my own ragged breathing. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through a small barred window high on the wall. The cell was small and damp, the air thick with the scent of mold and decay.

I sank to the floor, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. What had I done to deserve this? Why had I been brought here? My mind raced through the possibilities, each more frightening than the last.

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted my thoughts. A figure appeared outside my cell, and as he stepped into the light, my stomach twisted with dread. It was Lark. I should have known, I should have suspected that it hi. That only him would have a hand in such shenanigans. He wore a smirk that made my blood run cold.

"Ah, Lady Isabelle," he said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "How lovely to see you."

"Lark," I breathed, struggling to keep my voice steady. "Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

He chuckled, a dark, mirthless sound. "You truly have no idea, do you? You've underestimated me, Isabelle. You thought you could play your little games and run around freely. But I've been watching you."

"Watching me?" I repeated, confusion and fear warring within me. "I don't understand. I haven't done anything—"

"Oh, but you have," he interrupted, his tone suddenly sharp. "You dared to think you could leave without me ever knowing. You dared to think that having Prince Rowan by your side would somehow save you from me. You dared to lie to me and deprive me of what is truly mine."

I shook my head, trying to make sense of his words. "What are you talking about?! I know nothing of what you speak—"

"Spare me your lies," he snarled, his smirk fading into a look of pure malice. "You've always been a thorn in my side, Isabelle. I’ve always wondered how it would feel to have you on your knees begging for my mercy. How it would feel watching you call my name and beg me to let you go. How sweet your tears would taste if I lick them from your face.”

Tears stung my eyes as I pleaded with him. "Please, Lark, let me go. I swear I mean no harm. I only wish to serve the Prince.”

He laughed again, a cruel, mocking sound. "Serve the Prince? You? You're nothing but a naive girl who thought she could outwit the likes of me. But now, you're going to learn just how wrong you were."

I shuddered at the menace in his voice. "What are you going to do to me?"

Lark's smile returned, more chilling than before. "No one will come for you, Isabelle. No one even knows you're here. I can do whatever I please, and there's no one to stop me."

I recoiled, pressing myself against the cold stone wall. "Please, Lark, I beg you. Let me go."

He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Beg all you want. It won't change a thing. You're mine now, to do with as I see fit. And when I'm done with you, whatever's left will be thrown to the dogs."

Desperation clawed at my chest as I realized the full horror of my situation. "No, please," I sobbed, but Lark only laughed, a sound that echoed through the dungeon and filled me with despair.

He reached through the bars, his fingers brushing my cheek. "Don't worry, Isabelle. I'll make sure to enjoy every moment of this."

I closed my eyes, trying to block out his words, his touch, the overwhelming terror that threatened to consume me. But there was no escape. I was trapped in the darkness, with only the sound of Lark's mocking laughter to keep me company.

……..


The stone floor was cold beneath me, the dampness seeping through my dress. Hours had passed, but I had lost count. I was tired and hungry, the dim light from the torches casting eerie shadows on the dungeon walls. The only thing that kept me sane was the thought of Prince Rowan. Would he come for me? Could he come for me? He was the only one who could save me but would it be too late by the time he even discovered my absence?

The sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor, and I tensed up. It was Lark. He strode in, a cruel smirk on his face, my necklace dangling from his fingers. My mother’s necklace.

"Looking for this?" he taunted holding it just out of reach. My stomach churned with a mix of fear and anger.

"Give it back," I demanded, though my voice was weak.

He laughed, a harsh sound that bounced off the stone walls. "I think not. I’ll sell it to the highest bidder. Maybe then I’ll get something worthwhile from this sorry situation." He leaned in closer, his breath hot and fetid. "But first, we have a special night together. You should get ready."

I spat at him, my disgust overwhelming any sense of self-preservation. "You disgust me," I hissed.

His expression darkened, but he doesn’t respond to my insult. Instead, he reached out to touch my face. I screamed, recoiling from his touch, the sound reverberating through the dungeon.

"ARIADNE!"

The voice was distant but unmistakable. Prince Rowan. He found me. Relief flooded through me, but before I could react, a large werewolf burst into the room. His eyes were blazing with fury, and for a moment, Lark was too shocked to move. Then, Rowan’s fist connected with Lark’s face, a sickening crunch following the impact. He punches him again and again, not stopping until Lark is a bloodied, unconscious heap on the floor.

"Prince Rowan?" I breathed, scarcely believing my eyes. "How are you walking?"

He turned to me, his anger melting into concern, his features slowly turning human. "I knew you were in danger. I had to save you. That’s why I walked." His voice was soft, but firm.

I throw my arms around him, clinging to him as if I might lose him again.

I couldn’t believe it. He came for me. He saved me.

I broke away from the hug to look at him. To gaze at his face.

I found myself touching his face, not caring that it was inappropriate.

“You saved me. You came for me.”

Prince Rowan nodded.

“I did. And I’ll do it again. And again. As many times as I need to.”