Chapter 3

When the iron door opened, I thought it was the jailer.

It wasn't.

Bella stood in the doorway, two guards behind her. She wore a silver-gray gown, hair styled in an elegant chignon, torchlight falling on her face, casting her sharp features soft.

Bella. Only daughter of a pack elder, pure-blooded aristocratic Omega. Everyone in Blackstone Pack knew that in the Council's eyes, she was the only candidate for Luna. For three years, the way she looked at me never changed—like looking at a stray cat that had wandered into the great hall.

I pushed myself up against the straw. The wound on my left shoulder pulled, blood seeping out again beneath the bandage.

I said nothing.

She bent down, fingers pinching the blood-soaked bandage at my shoulder. The wound that had just begun to show signs of healing tore open again, spreading a patch of blood.

I bit down on my teeth.

"You smell like burnt rotten meat." She withdrew her hand, taking a silk handkerchief from a guard, slowly wiping her fingertips. "Even silver nail punishment couldn't kill you. Your life really is tough."

"What do you want."

She tossed the handkerchief onto the straw pile.

"Marcus asked me to deliver a message."

I clenched the dry straw beside me.

"He said he thought it through at the execution ground." She looked down at her freshly cleaned fingers. "Developing feelings for someone you shouldn't have—that was your mistake. Holding onto those feelings—that was his."

She lifted her eyes to me.

"Now he's dealt with his mistake. It's your turn."

I opened my mouth, my throat tight.

"He... said that himself?"

Bella laughed.

"Who else would speak for him? Me?" She took half a step forward. "Ella, you've been locked in this dungeon for three days. Has he come to see you?"

So I'd been unconscious for three days.

She wasn't wrong.

He had never come.

Bella took a crystal vial from one of the guards. The bottle was small, about the length of her palm, sealed with a cork stopper.

"What is that?"

"Testing potion." She held the crystal vial in her palm. "Developed by the Council. Marcus personally went to request it."

My gaze fell on that bottle.

"The Council believes your feelings for him are an obsession. Without clearing this obsession, you can never truly repent." She paused. "This potion can measure how much obsession remains. The deeper the feelings, the more severe the burning."

She looked at me.

"He said to let you choose. Take the test, and you'll have a chance to leave here alive someday. Refuse, and you'll be locked here forever."

I stared at that silver vial.

He had requested it.

He personally requested this test.

He had already dealt with his mistake.

Now it was my turn.

"I'll take it."

Bella raised an eyebrow. She pulled out the cork stopper. An ominous feeling came over me, indescribable, just a tightening in my chest.

"Hold her down."

The two guards stepped forward. One pressed my right shoulder, the other gripped my wrist. I struggled once, the wound on my shoulder tearing, blood surging out.

Bella crouched down. She was very close, close enough for me to see the curve of her eyelashes clearly.

"Do you know how long I've waited for you to fall this far?"

Her voice was soft.

Then she tilted the silver vial.

The potion poured onto my left shoulder.

First, cold.

Then it burned.

Burning from the inside out, unbearable agony. Like someone shoving red-hot coals into my veins. Fire followed my blood downward, burning through collarbone, burning through ribs, burning into my heart.

My whole body arched. The guard holding my right shoulder added pressure, forcing me back down onto the straw.

Bella looked down at me.

"Does it hurt?"

I couldn't speak. My fingers dug into the stone floor cracks, nails bending back, blood seeping into the gaps.

"Good that it hurts." She stood, tossing the empty crystal vial by my feet. "The more it hurts, the more it proves you can't let him go. When he sees these results, he'll know how to deal with you."

The potion kept seeping inward. The skin on my left shoulder began to blister, break open, oozing pale yellow fluid, giving off a smell like acid corrosion. That patch of flesh turned inside out, red and swollen, ulcerated, edges curling.

I watched my blood stain the dry straw deep red.

"Did you know he brought back a new apprentice from an outside clan?"

Bella's laughter grew sharper.

"Her name is Lydia. Also an Omega, younger than you, prettier than you."

Bella bent down, fingers brushing aside my hair damp with cold sweat. "Most importantly, she knows her place. She won't fantasize about becoming Luna. She won't make the Alpha uncomfortable like you did."

She straightened.

"Who are you waiting for in this dungeon? For his conscience to awaken?" She brushed straw dust from her skirt. "He's accompanying Lydia to select new tools tonight. He's busy."

I closed my eyes.

Three years ago on that full moon night, he'd picked me up from the forest. He let me live in that little cabin, had people send me food, wrapped old leather cord around my dagger handle.

He never said what any of it meant.

I thought it was a promise.

Bella walked to the door. Firelight cast a halo around the hem of her silver-gray gown.

"Oh, right."

She didn't turn back.

"He told me to tell you, you don't need to wait for him anymore."

The iron door closed.

The lock fell into place.

I looked down at my left shoulder.

The bandage had been corroded through by the potion, stuck to the festering flesh.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Hurt enough that I finally believed it.

He really didn't want me anymore.

I buried my face in my knees.

The dungeon was quiet. So quiet I couldn't hear my own breathing, couldn't hear the sound of blood dripping.

Three years.

I had held onto the casual tenderness he gave me for three years.

Now he had personally taken it back.

Curled up in the straw.

Eyes closed.

That full moon night, he placed his hand on my head.

He said, don't be afraid.

I held those two words in my hand, broke them apart, crushed them, savoring the barely perceptible sweetness within.

It was never a promise.

I just wanted a promise too badly.