Chapter 3 - THE MAN IN THE CELLAR
The prisoner refused to give his name.
Damian's guards had restrained him in the old stone cellar beneath the estate.
Aurelia insisted I remain upstairs.
I refused.
“You don't get to disappear for seventeen years and start giving me orders.”
Her mouth tightened.
Then she nodded.
“Fair.”
Damian walked beside us.
I hated that part of me still noticed his presence.
His familiar footsteps.
His breathing.
The way he positioned himself between me and every doorway.
Habits formed over six years did not disappear in one night.
But neither did betrayal.
The prisoner sat behind iron bars.
He was perhaps fifty.
Gray beard.
Scarred hands.
Calm eyes.
He looked at Aurelia first.
Then me.
His expression changed.
“There she is.”
Damian slammed a hand against the bars.
“Who sent you?”
The man smiled.
“You should ask your council.”
Damian froze.
“Which council member?”
The prisoner leaned back.
“I didn't say member.”
Aurelia studied him.
“You were at Frost Hollow.”
The man's smile disappeared.
I looked between them.
“What is Frost Hollow?”
Neither answered.
“Aurelia?”
She kept staring at him.
The prisoner laughed.
“She never told you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Your mother's great victory.”
Aurelia's voice turned sharp.
“Enough.”
He ignored her.
“Twenty-one years ago, the Vale family controlled seven northern territories.”
I stepped closer.
“Controlled?”
“Protected,” Aurelia corrected.
The man shrugged.
“Depends who tells the story.”
Damian watched silently.
The prisoner continued.
“Then Frost Hollow burned.”
Images flashed through my mind.
A story Damian had told me once.
An entire territory destroyed overnight.
No survivors.
“You were there?”
I asked.
“So was your mother.”
Aurelia's hands curled into fists.
“And so was your father.”
My chest tightened.
“My father?”
The man smiled again.
“You really know nothing.”
Damian stepped forward.
“Stop playing games.”
The prisoner looked at him.
“You rejected the most valuable bloodline alive because she didn't smell pretty enough.”
His laughter echoed through the cellar.
“I don't think you should lecture anyone about intelligence.”
Damian's eyes flashed gold.
I touched his arm without thinking.
He immediately stopped.
The prisoner noticed.
“So the bond isn't dead.”
I pulled my hand away.
“What bond?”
Damian looked at me.
“Elara—”
“What bond?”
The prisoner leaned closer to the bars.
“Ask your Alpha why he spent six years refusing to complete the mating ceremony.”
My blood went cold.
I looked at Damian.
“You said the ceremony wouldn't work because I was scentless.”
His silence answered before he did.
“Damian.”
He looked down.
“I wasn't certain.”
“About what?”
“That you were scentless.”
The cellar seemed to tilt.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You suspected.”
“Yes.”
Aurelia stepped toward him.
“How?”
Damian looked at her.
“The first time I met Elara, my wolf recognized something.”
I remembered that day.
I had been seventeen.
He had been twenty-two.
He had found me near the western boundary after I had spent months moving between small settlements.
He had offered food.
Shelter.
Protection.
Eventually, love.
Or what I had believed was love.
“My wolf wanted to submit,” Damian said quietly.
I stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“I was an Alpha.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“I was afraid.”
The confession surprised everyone.
Damian continued.
“An Alpha's wolf doesn't submit to an unknown outsider.”
Aurelia's face darkened.
“So you hid her.”
“I protected my territory.”
“You protected your pride.”
Damian didn't deny it.
The prisoner laughed.
Then his expression suddenly changed.
His eyes shifted toward the staircase.
A sound came from above.
A crash.
Then screaming.
One of Damian's guards raced downstairs.
“Alpha!”
Damian turned.
“What happened?”
“Lady Serena collapsed.”
I felt nothing.
May you like
Then the guard added the words that changed everything.
“She says Miss Vale poisoned her.”
