Chapter Four: Locked In
I stand there long after he's gone, pressed against the cold stone, my body trembling.
My throat still burns from where his hand had been.
My knees threaten to buckle, but I force myself upright. Tears won't bring him back. They won't save anyone.
I pulled my cloak tighter around myself and started the long walk back to the house.
Behind me, the mountains watched in silence.
And somewhere beneath my skin, thirty black marks rested like sleeping embers.
I stumble back toward the house, each step heavier than the last.
The windows glow in warm light, brighter than they should be at this hour.
Laughter drifts lazily from the sitting room, soft and careless. Alive. For one fleeting second, hope sparks inside me.
Maybe they waited for me. Maybe they were worried.
I take another step closer.
Then I hear her voice.
Soft, amused, deliberate. My mother.
"We played her perfectly."
A pause.
Then another voice, lighter, familiar, Ivy's.
"She always does that," Ivy says. "She always tries to save everyone."
My chest tightens suddenly, almost catching my breath.
Could I have just heard that wrong?
I lean against the wall, hand pressed to it for support.
"She really believed it was temporary?" Ivy continues, her laugh nervous, a touch of disbelief threading through it. "That the Alpha would let her go?"
The words wash over me like ice.
"Hope makes people obedient," my mother adds casually.
The sentence slides past me, unreal, like a nightmare I can't wake from.
"She kept asking if I was afraid," Ivy whispers. "If I needed her to stay. I told her no. Told her I was fine."
My vision blurs. I see her hands gripping mine, shaking.
I hear her breath catching. I feel her fear, the way she refused to meet my eyes.
"She's not even ours," my mother says, casually, as though this were fact, not betrayal. "Found her by the river like discarded waste. At least this way, she finally serves a purpose."
Something inside me snaps. Not loudly. Quietly. A fracture I can feel but cannot hear.
I step back, careful to keep my breathing soft, controlled.
Before the floor betrays me. Before they hear me. Before Ivy sees me.
So this is what it meant. Every late night I stayed awake beside her.
Every time I shielded her from anger, from punishment.
Every promise I made to keep her safe.
All of it, nothing but a role I was meant to play. A shield. A sacrifice.
I walk away before their voices finish hollowing me out.
I don't go inside. I stand there until the warmth fades from the windows, until laughter disappears as if it was never real. As if I was never real.
My chest aches in a way I don't know how to soothe.
Not sharp, not panicked, just a slow, spreading weight pressing into me.
Memories of Ivy flicker. Laughing in the river, water soaking her skirts.
Crying into my shoulder after nightmares. Whispering, "I'd be lost without you."
I press my hand to my mouth to keep the sound inside.
I wasn't protecting her. She was choosing herself.
The truth settles slowly, unyielding. I wasn't loved. I was useful. Convenient. Disposable. A tool.
My fingers curl into my palms until nails bite the skin. I let the pain anchor me. I do not heal these wounds. I deserve to feel them.
When I finally move, it is deliberate, careful, as if the ground itself could betray me.
I return to the small room that was never mine and sit on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.
I let myself remember everything. Then I let it go. Grief is heavy, and I cannot afford to carry it all.
Kael's voice returns to me. Cold. Precise.
"Watching you struggle will be far more informative."
Fine.
I will struggle. But I will not bleed for them anymore.
I do not sleep. I lie still until dawn breaks thin and pale through the narrow window, spilling over the room like a hesitant truth.
My body is exhausted, but my mind refuses stillness. Every time I close my eyes, Ivy's voice slips through, soft, careless, familiar.
"She always tries to save everyone."
The words lodge in my chest like splinters.
When morning finally comes, it is no relief.
It feels like exposure. Like the world insists I face it, whether I am ready or not.
I rise slowly. Wash my face in cold water.
My reflection looks intact, unbroken. Not a crack, not a trace of last night's unraveling. Strange. Painful.
I smooth my dress, braid my hair, rehearse the stillness I learned long ago.
My chest beats, but my expression says nothing. I am ready. Or as ready as I will ever be.
A knock interrupts my thoughts. Soft. Hesitant. Calculated.
I already know.
"Liora?" Ivy's voice slips through the door. "May I come in?"
I hesitate. Part of me wants to say no. Part of me remembers the paper I signed.
The ink is dry. My future sealed.
"Yes," I say.
She enters, carrying a folded dress over her arm, pale blue, one of the nicest she saved for special days.
"I thought…" Her voice falters, then she tries again. "I thought you might want help getting ready."
She is nervous, careful. Approaching a wounded animal.
I nod. "Thank you." Relief flickers across her face.
She moves like she belongs here, straightening fabric, lifting jewelry from the small chest, fussing over details carved from years of shared space.
Every gesture reminds me of the life I might have had, the normal I never fully grasped.
"I barely slept," she admits quietly. "I was worried about you."
I watch her reflection in the mirror. Eyes sincere. The vulnerability almost breaks me.
"I'm fine," I say. Too easily. "It was just… a long night."
She helps me out of the plain dress, sliding the new fabric into place with careful hands.
Fingers brushing my arms, gentle, practiced.
"I'm glad," she murmurs. "I kept thinking, what if something went wrong?"
Something already did.
I say nothing.
She ties the laces, adjusts the fabric at my shoulders. Steps back, inspects her work.
"You look beautiful," she says softly. "You always do."
I incline my head. "You chose well."
She smiles, small and relieved, seeking approval.
Then she reaches for my hair, braiding and adjusting it the way sisters do when the world still makes sense.
"I wish things were different," she whispers suddenly.
My chest tightens. I keep my breathing even. "So do I."
She fills the silence quickly. "But this way, everyone will be safe. That's what matters, right?"
Safe.
I think of Kael's hand around my throat. His calm voice. How easily my pack could be erased.
"Yes," I murmur. "That's what matters."
She exhales, relieved. I rise, turning so she can fasten the last clasp at my back. Fingers trembling.
"Thank you for doing this," she whispers. "I don't know what I would have done if…"
If it were you.
I nod. "I know."
A knock interrupts us. Sharp. Official. Unmistakable.
"Lady Liora," a voice calls from outside. "Your presence is required in the hall."
Ivy startles, hand tightening briefly at my back. My heart steadies instead of racing. Of course they are ready.
I smooth the dress one last time. Turn to her.
"I suppose," I say quietly, calm, controlled, "this is it."
Her hand lifts, hesitating.
"I'll come with you."
I look at her, really look.
"No," I say evenly. Unreadable. "You won't."
Her eyes widen.
I step into the corridor. The air shifts.
At the far end, backlit by morning sun, he stands.
Kael Cinderclaw.
Waiting.
His eyes lock onto mine, and the bond flares so violently I gasp.