The door hinge didn't creak—Jake had oiled it only yesterday. He froze in the doorway, barely visible in the flickering light of the dying fireplace. His chin jerked upward. A short, ragged nod.
I threw a cloak of coarse wool over my shoulders. The fabric lashed painfully against my neck, but I only gripped the edges tighter over my stomach. The life inside me kicked—heavy, alien.
"The guards?" my whisper was swallowed by the nap of the cloak.
Jake crossed the threshold, pressing his palm to the hilt of his sword. Perspiration glistened on his temple.
"Asleep. The wine from the southern cellars works wonders."
"Are you sure?"
"If I were sure, my hands wouldn't be shaking, Alina. Let's go. Quickly."
We slipped into the corridor. The coldness of the stone instantly soaked through the soles of my shoes. Every breath was a struggle—the air felt thick, saturated with dust and fear. Jake moved ahead, his shadow breaking against the walls, turning into a grotesque monster. We passed the post by the gallery. Two guards sat on a bench, heads slumped on their chests. They reeked of sour hops.
"This way," Jake pointed to an inconspicuous door behind a tapestry.
"That's the servants' staircase. The steps are crumbling there."
"Less chance of meeting those who haven't yet helped themselves to the keg. Hold onto the wall."
The staircase twisted in a steep spiral, descending into the black maw of the dungeon. The walls here were covered in slimy moss, smelling of mildew and old stone. I pressed my palm to my stomach, trying to steady my breathing. A chill rose from below, making my teeth ache.
"How much further?" I stopped, feeling my lower back go numb.
"Ten flights. There's a provision store at the bottom. Liam is there."
"You're risking your head, Jake."
"I've been risking it since the moment I first opened the door for you. Don't stop. If the patrol returns early, even your condition won't save us."
We descended into a deep cellar. The torchlight in the corridor barely dispersed the thick, oily darkness. Somewhere in the silence, water dripped rhythmically—a sound like the ticking of a clock, counting down our final minutes. Jake stopped at a heavy oak door reinforced with rusty iron.
"I'll stay here. You have ten minutes. No more."
"Jake..."
"Just go. There's a candle inside."
I pushed the door. It gave way with a low groan. The smell of rancid oil and damp earth hit my nose. In the center of a small patch of light cast by a candle stub stood a man. He wore a worn stable hand's jacket stained with hay, but his back remained straight, as if he were accustomed to wearing steel armor rather than a linen shirt.
He turned.
"You came."
"Damian's letter... it wasn't lying?"
Liam took a step toward me. The candlelight caught his face—sharp cheekbones, a straight nose, and eyes. The same eyes I saw every morning in the mirror. Dark gold with flecks of copper. The heritage that Cale called a curse.
"Damian doesn't know much, but he's right about the main thing," Liam took my palms in his. His fingers were calloused and hard. "Look at me. Look closely."
"I see it. This is madness."
"It's blood, Alina. It cannot lie. It's singing in your veins right now, can you feel it?"
I froze. Inside, deep beneath my skin, a strange, deep warmth spread. It didn't burn like the bond with Cale. It was soothing, bringing back a forgotten sense of security.
"Cale said I was a nobody. An orphan from the ashes."
Liam squeezed my hands tighter, almost to the point of pain.
"He lied to break you. To make you a submissive toy. Your home didn't just burn down. It was destroyed because they feared our power. You are my sister, Alina. The lost heir of a house that ruled these lands long before Cale's ancestors learned how to forge iron."
"Heir to what? Ruins and bones?"
"The future."
I stepped back, touching the wall. The coldness of the stone brought me back to my senses. "Why now? Why did you wait so many months, working in the stables?"
"You were under lock and key. Cale senses anyone who approaches you with the intention to harm or help. I had to become invisible. To become the manure under his feet."
"He will kill you if he finds out."
"He won't find out. We have people. Those who remember the coat of arms with the golden griffin. Those who haven't accepted the rule of upstarts."
I looked at the candle. The flame flickered in the draft.
"He's reinforced the guard. Damian's letter infuriated him. He's looking for a conspiracy where there isn't one."
"A mistake," Liam stepped closer, his voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. "There is a conspiracy. And it has ripened."
"What are you talking about?"
"In three days. Cale is leaving for the northern borders. There's 'unrest' brewing there—unrest we organized ourselves. His attention will be there, at the frontiers."
"I won't be able to leave the castle. The Mark... it will simply burn out my heart if I cross the gates without him."
Liam touched my face. His gaze was feverish, full of dangerous hope.
"We have a way to dampen the connection. For long enough to get beyond the Great Forest. His power ends there. That is where the lands of the Union begin. They are waiting for you, Alina. For you and the child."
"He is an Alpha. He will find me anywhere."
"Not in those lands. Ancient blood is stronger than his marks; it only needs to be awakened. You will get out of here. I will take you."
"Three days... it's too soon. I'm not ready."
"You've been ready since the day he put that collar on you. Do you want your son to grow up in this cage? To become just like Cale?"
I flinched. The thought of my child turned into a cold, domineering monster hit harder than any fear.
"No. Not him."
"Then listen. At midnight on the third day, be by the laundry rooms. Jake will lead you to a hidden passage. There will be horses there."
"And what about the pursuit? Cale will feel my departure the very second I leave."
"Let him feel it. By the time he turns his squad around, we'll already be across the river. The water will break the trail."
Suddenly, a flash flared in my chest. It wasn't the warmth of kinship. It was a sharp, white-hot needle piercing straight into my heart. I gasped for air, clutching the doorframe.
"Alina? What's wrong?"
"He..." I barely forced the word out through gritted teeth. "He is looking for me."
The bond was pulsing. Cale was awake. I could feel his anger—cold, sticky, crawling through my nerves. He didn't know where I was, but he felt my fear. My betrayal.
"You have to go," Liam grabbed me by the shoulders, looking into my eyes. "Hold on. Three more days. Can you hide this?"
"I... I will try. The pain... it's too strong."
"Think of home. Of the forest. Of freedom. Don't let him consume your thoughts."
He quickly pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. It was a gesture of a vow, heavy and unbreakable.
"You are my sister. I will not leave you here. I swear it by blood."
A soft, intermittent whistle came from outside the door. Jake.
"Patrol!" the guard's whisper was full of panic. "Liam, get to the crawlspace! Quickly!"
Liam nodded, grabbed the candle, and blew it out. Darkness slammed shut like a coffin lid.
"Three days, Alina."
A rustle of footsteps, the sound of a stone being moved, and I was left alone in the void. The storehouse door swung open. Jake grabbed my elbow, almost dragging me into the corridor.
"Go! Don't limp! We need to be on the stairs before they turn the corner!"
We ran up the spiral staircase. Every step echoed with a sharp pain in my stomach. The bond in my chest had turned into a throbbing abscess. Cale was calling. Demanding. Punishing me for the silence.
"Faster..." Jake wheezed, pushing me into the alcove behind the tapestry on our floor.
Boots thundered past. Torchlight seeped through the gaps in the fabric, momentarily illuminating Jake's pale face. He was breathing heavily, his forehead leaning against the cold stone.
"They're gone," he exhaled a minute later. "Your chambers are around the next turn. Can you make it?"
"I have to."
I stepped out into the empty corridor, swaying. My legs felt like lead. Every meter of the way seemed like a mile. When I finally pushed open the door to my bedroom and bolted it shut, my strength left me completely.
I collapsed onto the bed without taking off my cloak.
The bond crashed down on me with all its might. It wasn't just a call—it was a blow. Bloody circles swam before my eyes. Cale entered my mind without knocking, smashing through the mental barriers I had tried to build.
Where were you? — his voice in my head sounded like steel grinding against glass.
I curled into a ball, pulling my knees to my chin.
"Here... I'm here..." I whispered to the empty room.
You lie to me even in your thoughts, Alina. I can smell the dampness and the fear of another on your skin.
The pain made me scream. The Mark on my neck burned as if a red-hot iron had been pressed against it.
"Just... a bad dream..."
I will come tomorrow. And we will find out what kind of dreams you have in the cellars of my castle.
The connection went quiet, leaving behind a scorched wasteland and a dull, aching pain. I lay in the dark, watching the shadows of branches outside the window. Three days. Only three days to keep from losing my mind.
For the first time, I didn't cry. I didn't have the strength for it. Inside me, squeezed between the burn of the bond and the weight of the child, a small, fierce hope flickered. It was like that candle stub in the cellar—tiny, trembling, but the only thing capable of dispersing this darkness.